Noor of His Eyes Ⅱ²

  ✿ This content is made up of the Author's imagination, or used in a fictitious manner. It's only for entertainment purposes, so please don't take it seriously. ✿

 CHAPTER TWO: CHALLENGE ACCEPTED: HER NIGHT TO DEFIANCE 

"Excuse me..." The voice broke through their conversation, and both women turned to face the man standing in front of them. He was tall, with an air of cocky confidence that immediately set Fatima on edge. His eyes settled on her, ignoring Ruby entirely.

"If you don’t mind," he said, his tone smooth but laced with arrogance, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Fatima looked him up and down, her eyes narrowing as she took in the audacity of his approach. Her expression quickly turned into one of disgust, her lips curling slightly as she responded with a flat, "Yeah, say."

The man didn’t miss a beat. "Actually, the thing is, I’ve been noticing you for a week, and it seems like I’m quite interested in you," he said, his voice dripping with unwarranted confidence.

Fatima raised an eyebrow, her gaze icy. "What?" she asked, her tone sharp, as if daring him to continue.

He smiled, clearly misinterpreting her reaction. "Yeah, I think I like you," he said, his voice softening as if he expected her to be flattered.

Fatima, however, was far from impressed. Her expression didn’t shift as she coolly responded, "Oh, what a coincidence, I like myself too." A smirk tugged at her lips, but there was a sharpness to her words that cut through the air between them.

The man sighed, clearly growing tired of the exchange. His face shifted, the charm slipping away to reveal something darker, more sinister. His eyes gleamed with a cruel amusement as he leaned in slightly. "What a bookish line," he muttered, before his expression twisted into something devilish. "But it seems like you’re not interested in a relationship... So would you like to join my bed tonight?"

The smirk disappeared from Fatima's face in an instant. His words landed like a slap, leaving her momentarily stunned. Her eyes blinked rapidly as anger flared up inside her. She stood up quickly, her voice trembling with fury. "Just get lost in front of my eyes, before I kill you," she hissed, her hands balled into fists at her sides.

The man remained unfazed, his tone casual as if he were discussing something trivial. "Why are you getting so angry? I’m just asking for your choice," he said, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Fatima was seething now. She had never been spoken to like this, not even close. Most people knew exactly who her father was and knew better than to cross her. The sheer disrespect made her blood boil. "And I’m asking you to leave. Don’t you understand?" she growled.

At that moment, James and Robin returned, sensing the tension immediately. James stepped forward, his eyes blazing with anger. "Are you deaf? Can’t you hear that she’s asking you to leave?" he snapped, his voice low and dangerous.

The man, finally realizing he had pushed too far, shot them a look before backing away without another word.

---

The thumping bass of the club’s music vibrated through the walls, but for a moment, the world around Fatima felt muted. Leaning casually against the bar, she turned to the bartender, her expression unreadable. "Give me one small beer," she said, her voice calm yet somehow defiant, as if making a statement no one else could understand.

Her friends stared at her as if she had just spoken a foreign language. Robin was the first to break the silence. "Faati, did you just say small?" he asked, disbelief lacing his words.

Fatima, still avoiding their gaze, nodded and hummed in response, her fingers drumming lightly on the countertop.

Ruby, blinking in confusion, leaned in closer to Fatima, her voice dropping to a murmuring whisper. "How is this possible? I mean, the girl who never goes for anything less than a large is ordering a small beer today? Wait—are you thinking of quitting drinking?" Ruby’s eyes widened as she spoke, the overwhelming shock of the idea hanging in the air. For as long as they’d known her, Fatima was the life of every party, the one who always drank and smoked the most.

Fatima laughed softly, shaking her head. "Guys, it’s not like that," she explained, her voice casual but carrying an undertone of self-awareness. "You all know my dad hates all of this—drinking, smoking, the late nights." She paused, her eyes flicking to the glass as the bartender placed it in front of her. "Tonight, I am thinking about not going too far. You know, just keeping it low-key."

"Your small beer," the bartender said, sliding the glass across the bar.

Fatima reached for it, but before she could take a sip, a voice cut through the music.

"Girls always suit with small," the guy from earlier, Vicky, said, leaning up to the bar with the same smug smile on his face.

Fatima’s grip tightened around her glass, her jaw clenching at the rudeness in his words. Before she could respond, James was already stepping in, his face darkening with anger. "What the hell are you doing here again?" he growled, his tone low and dangerous.

Fatima held up his hand, stopping James before he could take on the situation. She turned toward Vicky, her eyes narrowing into slits. "Why do you think girls always suit with small?" she asked, her voice steady. His comment had stung her ego, and she wasn’t about to let him walk away unharmed.

Vicky’s smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with a twisted sense of amusement. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if he were sharing a secret. "Because you girls can’t handle more than that," he said, his tone dripping with self-importance. It was a purposeful provocation, and it worked.

Fatima’s blood boiled. Her lips curved into a dangerous smile, her eyes gleaming with the fire of a challenge. "That’s not true," she shot back, her voice sharp. "We can handle more than you can." Her smirk widened, daring him to underestimate her further.

Vicky’s smile didn’t falter. Instead, it grew darker, more sinister, as though this was exactly the reaction he had been hoping for. "I’ll believe it," he said slowly, savoring each word, "If. You. Beat me." His eyes locked onto hers, the challenge clear in the air between them.

Fatima didn’t hesitate. "I can beat you easily," she said, her voice calm but full of steely resolve. Her friends watched in tense silence, knowing how stubborn she could be once her pride was on the line.

Vicky raised an eyebrow, pretending surprise. "But if you can’t?" he asked, his voice smooth, almost casual, but there was something cruel in the way he said it.

Fatima’s eyes narrowed as she tilted her head, sensing there was more to this challenge than what was being said. "Then what?" she asked, her eyebrow arching in suspicion.

Vicky’s grin widened, revealing the true nature of his intentions. "Then you’ll have to agree to one thing from me," he said, the air around him thickening with a dark sense of satisfaction. They all knew what he was after. The smirk on his face made it painfully obvious, but still, Fatima pushed forward.

"And if I win?" she countered, her voice steady, refusing to show any fear.

"I’ll do the same," Vicky replied, his tone casual but calculated.

A short, sharp laugh escaped Fatima’s lips as she imagined the look on his face when he would surely lose. "Okay, then. Challenge accepted," she said, her voice laced with confidence and a touch of amusement at the thought of making him grovel.

James, standing just behind her, muttered under his breath, "Faati, think about it for once," his voice filled with concern. He knew how much she could handle, but this guy—he was on a whole different level. It wasn’t just about pride anymore; there was something unsettling about Vicky that made James nervous.

Fatima glanced at him briefly, her expression unshakable. "I don’t need to think about it," she said, her lips curling into a smirk, fully committed to the challenge now.

As Vicky watched her with that same devilish smile, he thought, 'You’re not going to win against me, baby girl. And I’m not going to let you slip away this time.'

Without another word, Vicky turned and made his way toward the DJ area. His confidence was practically bursting from him as he spoke to the DJ, wanting to make sure everyone in the club knew about the challenge. He was certain of his victory, and he wanted the whole place to watch Fatima’s downfall.

He leaned over to the DJ, flashing a cocky smile. "Announce a challenge," he said, his tone filled with excitement. "Tell them it’s between me, Vicky, and...well, I don’t know her name," he continued, glancing over his shoulder at Fatima before pointing directly at her. "But it’s that girl," he said with a laugh, clearly enjoying the drama he was stirring up.

The DJ, sensing the entertainment value, grinned back at him. "Best of luck," he said with a chuckle, already aware of the crowd’s reaction to what was about to unfold.

Fatima, still at the bar, took a slow sip from her small beer, her eyes never leaving Vicky as he moved back through the crowd. Her friends surrounded her, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity.

"You sure about this?" Ruby asked quietly, her voice laced with worry.

Fatima didn’t answer immediately. She placed the glass back on the bar, her eyes glinting with determination. "I’ve never been more sure," she finally said, her voice calm and steady, but beneath the surface, her heart raced with adrenaline. This wasn’t just a challenge anymore—it was a test of her pride, her stubbornness, and her ability to stand her ground.

The music in the club came to a sudden halt as the DJ picked up his microphone. The thudding bass, once vibrating through the floor, gave way to a charged silence. "Attention, everyone!" the DJ's voice boomed, cutting through the hum of conversations. "The challenge of the day is about to begin, between the queen of our club, Faati, and our new guy, Vicky. As always, the loser will fulfill the winner’s wish."

A ripple of excitement surged through the room. The crowd, familiar with Fatima’s reputation, break out into chants of her name. "Faati! Faati!" Her name reverberated off the walls, as if it were a mantra that filled every corner with the space. Only a handful of people stood quiet, either newcomers or those who had come with Vicky, but even they couldn’t help but take notice of the electric atmosphere surrounding her.

Fatima stood tall against the noise, her expression cool and collected, though a small, amused smile played on her lips. The cheers didn’t faze her; she had heard them a thousand times before. Her eyes flitted across the room, taking in the faces, but her mind was elsewhere.

While Vicky was busy talking with the DJ, a predator in his own right, Fatima casually pulled out her phone, her fingers moving swiftly over the screen. She opened her messages and searched for a contact labeled 'Useful punk.' Without hesitation, she typed, 'You know very well what you have to do... Just tell me the amount'
Seconds later, a response lit up her screen. 'You know my amount very well.'

Her lips curled into a knowing smirk as she typed back, 'Okay, you’ll get the money after the work is done.'

The reply came almost instantly, 'Okay.'  

She locked her phone, slipping it back into her purse with a sense of finality. The pieces of her plan were falling into place.

Within moments, two tables were dragged to the center of the club, the sound of wood scraping against the floor momentarily silencing the crowd. The tables faced each other like dueling battlegrounds. Fatima took her place at one table, calm and composed, while Vicky stood at the other, his cocky grin never faltering. Around them, the crowd closed in, forming a tight circle, eager to witness the spectacle.

Vicky, his gaze fixed on Fatima, leaned forward slightly, a glint of challenge in his eyes. "You’re doing this to prove yourself, aren’t you?" His voice was slick with arrogance. "So, let’s make it interesting. You pick the drink. What’s it going to be?"

The corner of Fatima’s lips twitched upward in a smirk, but before she could answer, Ruby leaned toward Robin and whispered, "This poor guy... He made a huge mistake asking that. You know she’s going to pick vodka. It barely touches her."

Robin chuckled under his breath, glancing at Ruby. "I’d bet on it. She’s got this."

---

❁𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑❁

❀𝕴𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖎𝖙!❀

♡ 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎, 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎 ♡

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