FIFTY MILLION NIGHTS
PART 8
The club was packed, the music loud, the air thick with sweat and perfume. Olivia moved between tables, balancing a tray of drinks, her feet aching in her heels. She hadn’t eaten all day—too nervous, too busy trying to keep up with Malik’s demands.
Then, the room tilted.
Her vision blurred. The tray slipped from her fingers. Glasses shattered on the floor.
And then—nothing.
Malik was in his office when he heard the crash. Then shouting. Then Kola’s voice, sharp with panic: "Boss! It’s Olivia!"
He was out of his chair before the words fully registered.
The crowd had already parted, forming a circle around her. Olivia lay on the floor, pale, unmoving. One of the bouncers was kneeling beside her, about to lift her—
"DON’T TOUCH HER!" Malik’s roar sent everyone scrambling back.
He dropped to his knees beside her, his hands hovering, unsure. He had seen men shot, stabbed, bleeding out—but this? A woman passed out. It terrified him in a way bullets never had.
"Olivia." He tapped her cheek. No response.
His chest tightened. He didn’t think. Just acted.
One arm slid under her knees, the other behind her back—and then he lifted her, cradling her against his chest like something precious.
"Move!" he barked at the crowd. They jumped aside as he carried her through the club, his men trailing behind, stunned.
The penthouse was quiet. Too quiet.
Malik had ordered everyone out—doctors, bodyguards, even his most trusted men. Only he remained, sitting stiffly in a chair beside his bed, watching Olivia breathe.
The doctor said it was exhaustion. Dehydration. Nothing serious.
But Malik hadn’t moved.
Olivia stirred, her lashes fluttering. When her eyes opened, they were hazy, confused. Then they focused—on him.
"Malik?" Her voice was weak.
He clenched his jaw. "You fainted."
She blinked, then slowly looked around—his bedroom, the dim lights, the glass of water on the nightstand. "You… brought me here?"
He didn’t answer.
She sat up slowly, wincing. "Why?"
"Because you’re useless to me dead," he snapped.
But his voice didn’t sound angry. It sounded… rough. Worried.
Olivia stared at him. Then, for the first time, she smiled. A small, knowing smile. "You were scared."
His jaw tightened. "Don’t push me, Olivia."
She didn’t listen. She reached out, her fingers brushing his arm. "Thank you."
Malik froze. Her touch burned.
---
The next morning, his men wouldn’t stop grinning.
"Boss carried her like a bride," Kola muttered to Dapo, loud enough for Malik to hear.
"Did you see his face? I thought he was going to shoot someone," Dapo chuckled.
Malik ignored them. But his ears burned.
He had spent the night watching her sleep. Making sure she drank water. Adjusting the blankets when she shivered.
It was weakness. It was ******.
But when she had smiled at him—when she had thanked him—something inside him had cracked.
He refused to name it.
But deep down, he knew.
He was falling.
And it terrified him more than any enemy ever had.