Poison Ivy

His eyebrows furrowed as Oliver looked up at the source of the voice.

A woman wrapped in a mini black dress with plunging neckline and an open back was leaning against the wall on the other side, ten steps away from him. Her svelte figure and poker straight back was a masterpiece to behold.

The curve of her slim waist and the enticing line of her hip, all the way to her long beautiful legs, like a sculpture of Greek goddess, created step by step with utmost care showing the creator worship towards the art of beauty.

Her dark violet hair cascading beautifully down her shoulders. The fringe covering her forehead and eyebrows made her smoky eye shadows atop her phoenix eyes even more defined. Her sapphire eyes glowed under the dim light of the hallway.

Her presence was shrouded in an enigmatically womanly aura. Wild, dangerously seductive, and untamed. A wild rose bearing its thorns, standing with arrogance among its kind.

A rare beauty with electrifying charm that made those who looked upon her couldn't help but stare for a minute longer, including Oliver Wang.

He stared at her as if he was assessing an art or a product.

From between her bright red lips, she exhaled a chain of smoke. "Do you like what you're seeing, Mister?"

She chuckled.

Her voice was enticingly sweet and softly spoken as if she was luring the other party.

It snapped Oliver back to reality. He frowned as he looked away, ignoring the mysterious lady.

He proceeded to light his cigarettes. However, perhaps he was too agitated today that he did not successfully turn on his lighter even after a few attempts.

Out of nowhere, a metallic gold lighter appeared in front of him. The lighter burnt the tip of his cigarette.

Oliver looked up. It was her.

In this proximity, he could smell the scent of Bulgarian rose permeated from her body. It wasn't strong but rather gentle and cooling, a very lovely fragrance.

When she moved away from him, her scent still lingered around him. For the first time, beside 'her', the one he dearly loved, he didn't mind the scent of another woman.

"Thank you," said Oliver as he began to smoke.

"Ah, so he can speak," she playfully teased him.

Oliver didn't seem to bother himself with her remarks. He quietly smoked his cigarette, one hand in his pocket.

For a while, there was a moment of silence between them as they enjoyed the taste of tobacco with their eyes fixed on each other.

The woman could see the admiration in his eyes as he watched her. The twinkle in that pair of ink-black eyes like a scatter of stardust in a darken night. The gaze which she was so familiar with.

One corner of her red lips slightly lifted. "So, is it a woman?"

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Does it has to be a woman?"

Her eyes then traveled down from his head to toe then back at his eyes again. She smirked.

"Wearing an expensive tuxedo and a pair of such sleek leather shoes, A. Testoni? My, especially handcrafted as well I see. And on top of that, the latest edition of Patek Philippe around your wrist."

She shook her head.

"Not only your appearance, you stood there with an air of arrogance, a sense of dominance as if the whole world is beneath your feet. That mannerism and the smell of old money. Without a doubt, you are a man of power, everything is at your beck and call. If it's not a woman than it is friends."

She smiled sweetly. "But I reckon it is not friends as they are happily drinking inside."

Oliver glanced at the door beside him before gazing back at the woman.

"How observant."

She chuckled. "It's part of my job to be observant."

"There's a difference between being observant and intrusive." Oliver's cold eyes peered at the woman.

But it didn't seem to affect her as she maintained her smile at him in a relax manner.

"Blame your friend, he's too loud."

For sure, Oliver knew who that friend was. He glanced at her knowingly.

"Your welcome," she winked at him.

He stiffened. Afterwards, he observed her from head to toe before asking, "What's your job?"

"A stripper."

Oliver was instantly dumbfounded. She smirked.

"Look at your eyes."

"What about them?" He responded in reflex.

"They're sparkling."

"They aren't."

"You can't see them."

Trying to divert the topic, he looked at her devastatingly beautiful face. "Why a stripper?"

She could easily pass as a model or an actress, he thought.

She raised an eyebrow, her eyes suddenly turned dull seemingly bored at his reaction. "Why not?"

"Did you dye your hair for the job?"

"Honey, I believe we were talking about you before." She chuckled.

In fact, he had forgotten about that. He didn't know how he ended up talking with this woman. But his mood was turning for the better.

However, being reminded of that woman who he had loved dearly but betrayed him, made him feel angry again. His face had turned black and gloomy all over.

"It's not important," he growled.

"If it was not important, you wouldn't be this affected by it." She inhaled the cigarette between her fingers.

"It's none of your damn business!"

"What? Did you get rejected by her?" She snorted with a tinge of mockery in her voice.

SLAM!

Oliver clenched his hand around her neck as he slammed her body against the wall. He trapped her beneath him.

The aura around him was deathly. He looked like a Harbinger from the depth of Hell, ready to mercilessly snap her neck in the next seconds.

He glared at her menacingly.

"I'm warning you woman!" He said through his gritted teeth. His voice filled with oppressive aura, an undeniable threat.

In the midst of his anger however, he realized that his action was far too exaggerated. He must've scared her.

But contrast to his expectation, the woman didn't cower or grow weak at his threat. She stood there unyieldingly, her oceanic blue eyes stared straight to his soul unwaveringly.

Instead of trembling in fear, she giggled. She raised her hand and gently caressed Oliver's face with her dainty fingers.

Her lips inched closer to his and stopped one centimetre away. Her rosy fragrance blossomed all around them as if they were standing in a garden surrounded by fresh Bulgarian roses dripping with morning dew.

They were blooming madly in red like the color of her red lipstick.

"I like your spirit," she sweetly echoed.

She pinched his chin. Despite being shorter than him, she didn't look the least bit overwhelmed by his figure. In fact, she looked like a Queen staring at her subordinate.

She faced him confidently with a calm manner. "I'll help you get that woman."

Oliver flinched. He didn't know how to react to her actions. Weirdly enough, his body seemed to be cooperating with her. It stood there unmoved.

But that only irritated him more. He tightened his grip. "I told you-"

Before he could finish his sentence, the woman had put her index finger on his lips.

She smiled sweetly. "Sstt..." she shushed him.

"Don't you want to see her become extremely jealous that she beg you to love her again? Imagine her crying for you. A little punishment for her ungratefulness doesn't sound too bad, does it?"

Oliver went silent. He stared piercingly at her calm face. He was not sure what her aim was.

For the first time, he couldn't figure out a person's objective. He didn't quite like the feeling of not being in control.

He let go of his grip from her but stayed at the same distance. He put his hands in his pockets.

"What is your aim?" He asked, looking down at her.

She playfully giggled. Weirdly, he thought it was cute.

"I'm just bored."

Oliver raised an eyebrow.

"What is life without a little drama, right?" Her eyes twinkled in excitement.

Oliver sighed. Looking at this little woman, he felt somewhat resigned. "There's nothing anymore. She's going to get engaged."

"Oh, is she?" The woman dragged her tone sounding as if she was not buying it.

"What?" Oliver looked at her.

"Nothing." She shook her head. "Is he a better man?"

Oliver scoffed. "Now, that is a joke."

She laughed. "Isn't he a prince?"

"I can still crush him. How is that better? Wait.. how did you know he is a prince?" he narrowed his eyes dangerously at her.

"Told you your friends are loud."

"The room is soundproof."

"I eavesdropped," she shamelessly replied.

Oliver instantly felt helpless towards this little woman. Could she not be so blunt? Didn't she know she could offend someone like this?

Technically speaking, Oliver would usually have taught the other party a lesson already.

But...this woman...

He somehow didn't feel offended at all. He just felt helpless.

"Sorry," she apologized, although she didn't seem the least bit sorry. She just indifferently continued to smoke.

"It's fine."

"You're a tolerant one."

"Really? Lots of them said I'm heartless."

She chuckled. "And yet, you love someone so dearly."

Oliver smiled. "The irony."

"So, tell me about her." She raised her hand towards his collar and tidied it up. Then she proceeded to smooth his wrinkle shirt.

Oliver let her did her things willingly. He wasn't disturbed at all. "To put it simple, she's my childhood friend. We all grow up together. Me, my friends, and her."

"Childhood lover." She smiled sarcastically at him. "How cliche."

"Can't help it," he said.

"None of us can."

"Love sucks." He sighed.

"But we fall in love anyway."

The silence loomed between them. They stared grippingly at each other. The gaze she held on him as he did on her.

She smirked before a row of laughter broke between them.

Indeed, he thought. No one could fight against fate and no one could stop loving either. They just did. Human's heart is that complicated.

"My offer still stand. I can help you," she said, looking at him earnestly.

"Don't bother. I've tried everything. She loves that prince. Thanks anyway." He rubbed her head.

She grabbed his hand and held it tight. "Nothing worked, that is before you met me."

Oliver raised his eyebrows at this stubborn woman.

Feeling challenged, she raised one finger at him, "One meeting. I will make her turn around and chase after you."

He raised an eyebrow. "How are you so confident?"

"Because I know what a woman loves the most." ...but even more so for a man.

She left the remaining sentence unspoken as she gazed at this powerful man in front of her.

"And that is?"

She answered with confidence, "Being chased by handsome guys. That feeling of having control over two powerful men. She felt a sense of pride in her beauty."

Oliver: "...."

"Women. We care for vanity...that much." She smiled knowingly as she exhaled a chain of smoke.

Oliver stayed quiet. He watched her closely as he contemplated her offer.

In the end, he gave in to his curiosity. "Two days from now, there will be a masquerade ball held by the Ru at Ritz Carlton. Their daughter is having her birthday. Alice would be there."

"So her name is Alice." She tapped her index finger on her chin, seemingly deep in thought.

"Alice Hu?" she asked him. That young heiress of the Hu cooperate. The only daughter of Collin Hu. One of the prestigious families in country A.

He nodded. "What's the deal?" he asked, not wasting another minute.

She raised her index finger with a playful smile.

"One million?"

She shook her head.

"One billion?!"

She flicked his forehead.

"A cent."

"Ah?" he looked at her bewildered.

"One," she stressed her word while putting her index finger in front of him. "One cent. Not more."

"Are you serious?"

She nodded. "Yes."

Oliver was stunned. He thought, for sure, she was going to extort him.

"And if I fail," she spoke, "I can perform a dance pole for you."

Yet again, she shocked him. Oliver had an urge to facepalm himself. This was ridiculous, he thought.

And even that, she still added in extra bonus. "I can strip too if you demand so."

That was it.

BOOM!

Oliver's cheeks flushed. He had officially turned into a roasted crab in that exact moment.

She giggled as she teased him. "Oh look at you. A virgin?"

He blushed even more as he stepped away from this shameless woman.

She moved forward and hooked her arms around his neck. She brushed her lips against his earlobe as she whispered, "I will perform a special performance for you then."

Thump!

Oliver's heart jerked right away. His body stiffened.

She giggled at his reaction, feeling extremely satisfied. She then walked away from him.

"I'll see you at the ball." She waved away.

"Wait!"

She halted and turned around to face him. She raised an eyebrow.

"Your contact detail."

She grinned. "I thought for sure you're going to investigate about me."

Oliver went silent. He was caught off-guard. That's true he would usually do that but he didn't even know her name.

"Don't worry," she said, "I will not break our promise. I'll be there."

"At seven."

"On the dot," she smiled.

"I'm Oliver Wang. What's your name?" he unhurriedly ask.

"Trixie."

His face darkened.

"Your real name."

She giggled. "Roxie."

He became ever more grim.

The woman felt even more amused by his reaction. "Mr. Wang, you can name me then. After all, you own me till Sunday midnight."

Oliver was taken aback.

"Go ahead. Name me."

He stared at her, pondering seriously what would be suitable for her name.

Then, he spoke, "Ivy."

"As in?"

He looked at this woman in front of him who exuded a sense of danger.

"Poison Ivy," he replied.

She smiled, "Charming."