Drunkenly Devoted to the Bad Boy (Drunken Series #2)

“Are you kidding me? Why would I even be your slave?” I hissed at this man in front of me. Xavion York Zachory, the resident bad boy in school. No one wants to cross paths with him because everyone thinks he has a connection with a powerful fraternity around Vegas. I have never heard of someone fighting with him in school because it is with a hundred percent certainty that whoever dares to go his way would end up getting beaten to a pulp. And that alone made me shiver in fear. His pitch-black eyes stared into mine as if trying to trap me under his gaze. And guess what? He’s successful. I don’t know where I got the courage to talk back to him a few moments ago and right now, I am in deep regrets. What if he bullies me? What if he tries to make my life miserable? He tilted his head to the left and crossed his arms against his chest. The side of his lips rose on a playful smirk. “Are you done?” he asked as he brought something out of his pocket. It was his phone. He unlocked it and seemingly looked for something before showing it to me. My eyes narrowed on the screen. It is a video recording and I wonder what was in there. He played the video and my eyes widened when I saw myself in there. I looked trashed and it seemed like I didn’t know what I was doing. I was smiling widely with a bottle of beer in my hand. “What did you say?” I could hear Xavion’s voice. He wasn’t visible in the video because he was the one recording it. I was leaning on what I think is the railing of the terrace while Xavion’s arm is on my left side, looking like he’s helping me to stay still and not fall on my feet. I chuckled and the drunken expression on my face cannot go unnoticed. “I am willing to be your slave for a month,” I replied in between giggles. My jaw dropped at how intoxicated I am. This is why I don’t like drinking beer. I don’t like getting drunk. I don’t like going anywhere near a place that sells liquor. My mother told me how she first got married to Dad and even though I actually think that it’s fate that brought them together, I still don’t want that to happen to me. What in the world am I going to do if I ended up marrying someone while I am drunk? Aside from getting a whole round of litany from my mother, I would definitely die of embarrassment. “Are you serious about this?” Xavion’s deep voice emerged from the noisy background. I looked at him and smiled widely before nodding. “Of course!” I beamed. “I am a woman of my words.” I looked so proud and serious. And now, I can’t help but get flustered and sink in shame. Just what the heck came into my head that made me say that? Xavion raised his brow at me, looking so victorious because of the little proof that he has. “I had a feeling you were going to deny it the next morning so I took a video. I’m glad I did,” he uttered in a menacing voice. I frowned at him. “I don’t remember it,” I replied. I will have to deny it as long as I can. He smirked. “Oh, Anjelina, there’s already a video proof that you said that,” he taunted. “Aren’t you the one who said that you’re a woman of words? Are you actually going back on your words now?” I gritted my teeth and glared at him. He’s really ruthless. He really knows how to push my buttons with just his words. Damn him. He smiled brightly, a sarcastic one, a smile that makes me want to punch him straight in that handsome face of his. “It’s just one month, woman,” he said. “Are you chickening out or just a plain liar?” I sneered at him. “What? I am not a liar!” “So, you’re a chicken?” I clenched my fists tightly. “No,” I replied. He raised his brow and smiled at me. “Then, what? Are you honoring your words, my dear slave?” “Don’t call me your slave!” I leered. He chuckled and shrugged. “Fine. I’ll call you love then because I love my slaves.” He caressed my face with the back of his index finger and I yanked it away from my face. “See you around, Love. I am looking forward to you running my errands. Don’t worry. I won’t be as tough as you thought I would be.” He flashed a wide smile before leaving me alone in agony.