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Safe landing

FIFTY MILLION NIGHTS
PART 6
Olivia stood in front of the mirror in the club’s dressing room, adjusting the short, shimmering black dress the manager had given her. Her heart pounded as she looked at herself. She had never done this before—never danced in front of strangers, never used her beauty like this. But she needed the money. Fifty million naira was too much. And Malik? He only saw her as a debt.
She took a deep breath and stepped onto the small stage near the VIP section. The lights dimmed, the music pulsed, and then—spotlight on her.
The crowd roared.
Olivia moved slowly at first, feeling the rhythm, letting the music guide her. She was nervous, but as the beat grew stronger, so did she. Hips swaying, arms lifting, her body moved like fire. Men whistled. Women cheered. Money started raining on the stage.
She didn’t see him at first.
Then—silence.
The music stopped. The lights blasted on. The crowd froze.
Malik stood in the middle of the club, his face dark with fury. His hands were clenched. His eyes—burning.
"CLUB’S CLOSED. EVERYONE OUT."
No one argued. No one dared. The crowd scattered like leaves in a storm. The manager paled and rushed to obey.
Olivia stood frozen on the stage, her breath coming fast. Malik didn’t speak. He just walked toward her, slow, deliberate. Every step felt like a threat.
She stepped back.
He grabbed her wrist.
"Home. Now."
The car ride was silent. Deadly silent. Olivia sat as far from Malik as she could, her heart hammering. She could feel his anger like a storm, ready to break.
When they got to the penthouse, he didn’t yell. He didn’t even look at her. He just walked inside, his back rigid.
Olivia couldn’t take it anymore.
"I needed the money!" she burst out, her voice shaking. "Fifty million naira, Malik! I can’t just serve drinks forever! I have to pay you back, I have to—"
He turned so fast she flinched. His eyes were wild. **"You think I want you shaking your ass for other men? You think I’ll let you—"**
She didn’t let him finish.
Tears spilled down her cheeks. She was scared. Scared of his anger. Scared of how much she cared what he thought. Without thinking, she stepped forward and hugged him. Tight.
Malik froze.
Her face pressed against his chest. Her arms wrapped around him. She could feel his heartbeat—fast, hard, like a drum.
For a second, nothing happened.
Then—his arms slowly, so slowly, came around her. His grip tightened. His breath shuddered.
Olivia looked up.
His eyes weren’t angry anymore. They were… different. Dark. Hungry.
She didn’t move.
He did.
One hand tangled in her hair. The other gripped her waist. And then—
He kissed her.
Not soft. Not gentle. A claiming. A fire.
Olivia melted into him, her fingers digging into his shoulders. His mouth was hot, demanding. She kissed him back, forgetting everything—the debt, the club, the fight.
When he finally pulled away, his breathing was rough. His eyes searched hers, confused.
No woman had ever made him feel like this.
No woman had ever dared.
Olivia touched his face, her thumb brushing his scar.
And Malik—the ruthless, untouchable Syndicate king—closed his eyes and leaned into her touch.
TO BE CONTINUED...

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Here is the full definition of falling in love

FIFTY MILLION NIGHTS
PART 7
Olivia woke up with her lips still tingling from the kiss.
Last night had been a storm—Malik’s rage, her fear, the way he had melted into her arms, the heat of his mouth on hers. She touched her lips, remembering. For the first time since being taken, she had felt something other than fear.
Maybe he feels it too.
She dressed carefully, her heart fluttering. Maybe today, he would look at her differently. Maybe today, things would change.
But when she stepped into the penthouse’s main room, Malik was already there—cold as stone.
He stood by the window, his back to her, his broad shoulders tense beneath his crisp black suit. He didn’t turn. Didn’t speak.
Olivia hesitated. "Good morning," she said softly.
Silence.
Then, slowly, he turned. His dark eyes were like ice. No warmth. No fire. Nothing.
Her stomach dropped.
"You will not dance in the club again," he said, his voice flat.
Olivia blinked. "What?"
"You heard me." His jaw tightened. "You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Flashing your body at men, throwing yourself at me—all to escape the debt."
Her breath caught. That’s what he thinks?
"I wasn’t—"
"Enough." His voice cracked like a whip. "You will serve drinks. You will keep your head down. And you will never try to manipulate me again."
Olivia’s chest burned. The kiss had meant nothing to him. Nothing at all.
Tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "I just wanted to pay you back faster," she whispered.
Malik scoffed. "By dancing? By *kissing* me?" His voice dripped with disgust. "You’re pathetic."
The word hit her like a slap.
Her vision blurred. The room spun. She couldn’t breathe. The weight of everything—the debt, the betrayal, the way he had kissed her like she was everything and now looked at her like she was nothing—crushed her.
A sob broke free. Then another. She covered her face, her shoulders shaking.
Malik didn’t move. Didn’t comfort her. Just watched, his expression unreadable.
Olivia cried until her legs gave out. She slid to the floor, her tears soaking into the expensive rug. The world faded in and out.
Then—darkness.
She fainted.