‘Dakota Black, The new teflon king of 2022.’

I keep the TIMES magazine on the table and look outside the huge window of my office. Seattle breathes below the clouds and everybody knows it’s going to rain today.

And I never liked rain.

*Beep* *Beep*

The call on the machine asks for my attention. I press the intercom, sitting back on my chair, which I earned with years of my blood and hard work.

“Sir, your interview with Pegasus Publication has been scheduled at 1:30 PM. Then a video conference with the Singapore branch of Wire Hay Company is arranged at 2 PM. Do you want to make any changes?”

“No. Keep things on schedule.” I state.

“Alright.”

I stand up from my seat and stride towards the edge, that is the utmost limit of my cabin, and then comes the fall twenty floors down.

People look like rats as they run to survive, willing to climb on each other to rush to the exit. And it reminds me.. I was a rat once.

Ran among other rodents to survive. Lived in the worst gutters and fought with mongooses, racoons, snakes to live another day.

My suit confines my brooding chest as I take a deep breath while looking at the dark clouds getting closer, hiding the thunder within them. Memories of past surfaces back on my skin of the time when I used to sleep in wet clothes under the pouring rain.

The world shows no sympathy for the weak.

Just like the rule of nature, animals in top hierarchy will always feed over the lower ones. And what I have experienced being at the bottom is that it’s better to be a predator than a prey.

Since young, I learned fate is seldom anybody’s friend. Depending on luck or on other’s pity will further push you towards the pit of misery.

It took me two decades to learn that no one in this world is there for me. No friendly hand or pretty face would lend their shoulder if you don’t own something they desire.

Everyone drive on desires to get things they see in others. And if you don’t have anything they want from you, they will treat you like the dust on the gate they don’t even wanna touch.

And now. They owe to me.

I own a company that is responsible for three hundred people’s daily bread. They work for me, to make me richer than yesterday in return for a shelter on their head.

It’s all the game of coins.

The more you have, the more your foot weigh on others. And hence, that’s how you climb in hierarchy.

*Humm*

My pocket vibrates. and I pull out my phone with a deep sigh as soon as I read the caller’s name. Psycho Xavier.

Eh! I totally forgot about my appointment with him.

“I remember I didn’t call you back.” I walk around the table and pick the magazine that boosts about the millions my company jumped in a year.

“I am glad you remember you ignored me.”

I scoff at his sarcastic tongue and reply, “It was not a deliberate act. I still have your consultation set up for the weekend.”

I met Xavier at the lowest point of my life. When I was almost on the verge of ending my miserable life. He has been a real angel to me, who held my nerves to kill myself and shaped my emotional mess into something which is not so messy now.

“You know I am a busy man, Dakota.” Xavier state the facts.

“You are more than a patient to me. You are my friend. And I genuinely worry about you. Especially when you start ignoring your sessions and your doctor.” He says in his psychiatrist voice.

“I understand.” I nod my head in agreement.

“I just have been busy with interviews and meetings lately. By the weekend, I will definitely manage my time and your session will be the first thing I will check on my list.” I promise to him.

“Chuck it.” He says like a man who is tried with excuses. “I called you to actually hangout with me. At my club.”

“I am busy today.” I tell him as I go through my watch for meetings.

“It’s not today, idiot. It’s tomorrow night.” He takes a pause. “And it’s a special night.”

Xavier is a psychiatrist by the day and then, his personality gets darker as the night proceeds. He owns an infamous and explicit club down the city, which is only reserved for very private members.

My ears bolt upright in curiosity. “What time?”

“Eight.”

“Done.” I tell him, burying the time in my schedule for tomorrow.

“And you know the dress code, right?” I can imagine his brows curving up at me.

“Black.” I breathe in. “And a mask.”

“Yes. See you then.”

“You will.” I promise him.

I keep the phone down and the TIMES magazine that I was holding in my hands. I let my legs stretch as I lay back in my chair. I sigh, closing my eyes and enjoy the silence in my head, something I get once in a blue moon.

At times, my brain won’t stop speaking, telling me ideas, thinking about shares, codes and comparing it with the competitors. As if it never stops talking in my head, and I feel like I am cursed to never get peace in my life.

Gladly, Xavier’s medication work on me and numb my thoughts to a level they let me sleep for a few hours longer. I have money, power, technology, but not satisfaction or peace in life.

Sometimes, I feel like I am just a step closer to going berserk. Like a volcano, the chaos in me is asleep, but still active.

And every day, it is getting more alive than the day before.

*Beep* *Beep*

I press on the screen instantly. “The interviewer is here from Pegasus Publication. Shall I send her in?” I twist my wrist and look at my watch: 1:29 PM.

“After a minute.” I tell her.

“Got it.”

I close my eyes and take a breath of relaxation. My shoulders slump down and my pulses soothe to a calming state as I prepare myself for the interview. For their hungry questions while they try to dig into my personal life and bank account.

I take deep breaths to make sure the beast inside me is still sleeping. Deep in a tranquil state of hibernation. I don’t want him out unless I am ready to lick blood. Again.

When I open my eyes, there is absolute silence. I flick my wrist and the watch blinks at me: 1:33 PM.

A needle of irritation pricks in my head and I sit up with a frown trimmed on my brows which clutters my calm as a dead sea mood.

“What is the status?” I ask through the intercom. My voice urgent and on the edge of a knife. I hate when people messes up with my schedule. I can let anything pass, but not my time or money.

“We had a little misunderstanding. But, it’s cleared now.”

My eyes look up as the door opens and I take my finger back from the answering call. A girl in a red satin top and black skirt, plays with her hair as she enters with uncertain steps.

Nervous.

She sets her wavy hair to chest and looks up, finding the man she came in here for. Her eyes meet mine and I suddenly feel a heartbeat in my silent chest with a thrust so hard I know I am not dreaming.

I can forget that face, but those eyes. I cannot fathom to forget those hazel eyes even in my after life.

Emara… The beast inside me whispers as he wakes up from his long slumber.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE: THIS BOOK IS MALE VERSION OF UPDATED BOOK- SEVEN NIGHTS WITH MR. BLACK

IF YOU ARE A NEW READER, I WOULD STRONGLY SUGGEST YOU READING THE FEMALE VERSION FIRST THAT IS SEVEN NIGHTS WITH MR. BLACK.

THIS BOOK CONTAINS DARK MENTAL ISSUES AND NON-CONSENSUAL SEXUAL SCENES AND MATURE LANGUAGE!