Dangeously His (EPISODE 1)

     

      “Love Was Never Meant for Me”

Love is a lie.

At least for me.

I’ve never believed in it, not once. And honestly, I blame the rules.

In my family, the Mokoenas, tradition is law. Since I was sixteen, my twin brother, Andile, has reminded me of the old Mafia custom — that by the time a woman turns twenty-five, her older brother is meant to choose her husband. And if he doesn’t… well, she’s destined to stay single. Forever.

But unlike Andile, who has embraced this dark legacy as the new Mafia King, I’ve never wanted that life. Never.

And yet here I am, twenty-four years old, sitting alone in a Sandton restaurant, waiting for a man my brother set me up with. A “decent man,” he said.

It’s been an hour. He hasn’t shown.

I sip the last of my wine, the glass catching the red stain of my lipstick. My black dress hugs my curves, my curls tumble over my shoulders… and still, I’ve been left waiting like a fool.

A sigh escapes me as I think about my brother’s life. Andile found love with Buhle Ndlovu, his perfect match. Together, they have little Ayanda, the cutest boy alive, and another baby on the way.

They’re happy. They’re in love. They’ve built their perfect family.

And me? I’m sitting in a restaurant alone, wondering if love just skipped me altogether.

I scroll through my phone before finally giving in to a decision I’ll regret. I call Andile.

“Hello,” he answers, his tone clipped.

“Well, hello, brother,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Shouldn’t you be on a date with the guy from my work?”

“Sure,” I reply dryly, “if he had shown up.”

“What?”

“Yeah, your friend stood me up. I’ve been sitting here for over an hour.”

Andile growls low through the phone. “I’m going to kill him.”

Before I can say anything, Buhle’s voice cuts in, calm and teasing. “Andile, how about we don’t kill anyone tonight?”

I laugh softly. “Thanks, Buhle. You’re the only one keeping him sane.”

She chuckles before handing the phone back.

“So why are you calling me?” Andile asks.

I sigh, leaning back into the chair. “Because I’ve had a little too much wine. I don’t feel safe driving. Can you pick me up?”

He groans. “I would… but Buhle and I are in the middle of dinner.”

I bite my lip, already regretting calling him.

“But,” he continues, “I think I have someone else who can.”

I frown. “Who?”

There’s a pause. Then his voice drops into a smirk I can practically hear.

“Nkosi Dlamini.”

My stomach flips. My brother’s best friend. The man I’ve sworn to avoid.

“God, no! Andile, absolutely not. I am not riding with him.”

“It’s him or nothing. He’ll be there in twenty. Bye.”

“Wait—” But the line is already dead.

I slam my phone onto the table, grab the last of my wine, and down it in one gulp. My heart pounds, not from the alcohol, but from the thought of seeing him again.

💋 He’s dangerous. He’s forbidden. He’s on his way. So tell me… should I run now, or wait to see what fate has for me when our eyes meet again?

To be continued in Part 2(NOW!!)…