Entertainment: Starting as a Succubus, Taking Hollywood by Storm Chapter 914 - 889: Shakira's Fate Unwittingly Altered

"Shakira, how did you and Martin et?" Vanessa asked again, her curiosity piqued.

Shakira reminisced, "It was 2010. I was in South Africa recording the World Cup anthem Waka Waka. I was rehearsing on stage when Martin showed up with so FIFA officials for a tour."

"I'd just broken up with my ex, Antonio—son of forr Argentine President Fernando de la Rúa. This footballer nad Piqué kept showing off his dribbling, pestering ."

"When Martin arrived, that Piqué guy lost control of the ball, and it flew straight at my face."

"Oh, I rember that vividly. The ball ca so fast, nearly smacking ."

Her eyes flicked to Martin, a mix of emotions swirling. "Martin and the officials were right nearby. The officials gasped, but Martin just casually reached out and caught it—like it was nothing. Then he winked at . His handso features made my heart race."

Afterward, Shakira invited Martin for coffee a few tis, even dinner. But just as she was warming up to sothing more, Charlize Theron appeared.

Facing a woman clearly involved with Martin—a "South African beauty"—Shakira backed off. They never reconnected.

Little did she know, if she'd pushed, she might've unlocked not just a first ti with Martin but with Charlize too.

Martin wasn't averse to a threeso—in fact he loved it!

From then on, Martin beca a lingering regret, even an obsession. That wink replayed in her mind on quiet nights, seeing her through the annoying phase of Piqué's pursuit.

Two years of failed relationships followed.

For so reason, after eting Martin, other n seed dull. She couldn't muster interest.

One glimpse of Martin, and a lifeti's missed, she lanted.

Shakira puzzled over her odd fixation but lacked the courage to reach out to the distant Arican, especially amid his tabloid scandals.

He's a playboy. I shouldn't dwell on him.

She tried convincing herself, but it only deepened the ache.

Ti should've healed it—another failure.

As years passed, the mark Martin left grew sharper, impossible to erase.

Desperate, Shakira stopped fighting the "emotion," even embracing it recklessly. On sleepless nights, the Latin diva closed her eyes, letting Martin's image fill her mind, then…

She figured she'd live out this peculiar celibacy—not so bad, she rationalized.

Until fate—or Martin—brought him back into her path, closer than ever.

During the match, she'd nearly left the box multiple tis to find him but held back, seeing him arm-in-arm with Vanessa, unashad before caras.

That damn playboy, womanizer, big pervert!

Cursing inwardly, she suppressed her urges, even losing interest in the ga.

Post-match, seeing them head to the parking lot, Shakira couldn't contain herself anymore. She rushed over…

Leading to now—Martin and Vanessa at her ho.

As Shakira recounted her eting with Martin, regret gnawed at her: Damn it, what was I thinking? I shouldn't have invited them. I shouldn't have even said hi.

Now this weird feeling's even stronger.

Idiot, I must be crazy. I'm definitely crazy.

That bastard's so damn alluring. I just want to pin him on the couch…

Her thoughts spiraled, her gaze turning sultry.

Vanessa didn't notice, but Martin did, his magical senses picking up the shift.

We've only t a few tis—why's she so hooked? My natural charm hitting her hard, ssing with her head? is this Latin won's uninhibited La Passion?

He eyed the Latin queen appraisingly. At over 30, her skin was still smooth, Smooth white toes and her eyes adding mature allure and sensuality.

Her figure was impeccable—modest bust but striking, tiny waist under a short denim skirt revealing defined abs, like a compact motor. Her hips and ass, hugged by the shorts, were full and perky, like a ripe peach.

Everyone knew: ripe fruit was the sweetest.

Vanessa was sharing their "edited" story: "…So those guys tailing got chased off by Martin's bodyguards. We've been together since."

Shakira fixated on Vanessa's lips, half-listening, her mind elsewhere: Why's Martin staring? What's he looking at?

Oh, my ass.

That big pervert!

But why am I so thrilled?

Wait, what's Vanessa saying?

She needs help!

Shakira shifted, inching closer to the sofa arm, crossing her legs.

Damn, what am I doing? Making it easier for that big pervert to ogle my ass?

I must be insane!!!