Billionaire's Exhibit Wife

"Oh Martha" he balls his hand into a fist. Repeatedly punching the coffee brown wood which bore in it the absence of life. His wife had just passed away and he... He had to pretend he cared. Meanwhile his mistress awaited him in his chambers. He imagined her in a black bra and sexy seamed stocking, a provocative pose altogether, with his wife's dead body just before him. Perhaps, judging him from beyond if she could read minds. Somehow you could say the tears surged from the fact that he couldn't be having a good f**k at this very moment. "Are you done pretending to shed tears for your beloved?" A soft voice spoke from behind, bringing him back to the disturbing reality that he was still at a funeral, and firmly hard down there. He took a discreet peek at his boner. Half appeased by its length and the other half, distraught. 'People might assume I'd want to f**k my wife's corpse', he thought in dismay before turning his head slightly around to the person who'd just called him out on his hypocrisy. Speak of the devil herself. His mistress, Leah. "Your wife just died..." she enveloped her tiny hand about his neck, a few of his dark strands in the way, gripping it softly as she normally would behind closed doors "you need a new wife" Leah inched closer to his ears "You need me Zane" mustering in a hush whisper before having a nibble at his lobe. Her words quickly elided all erotically deprived thoughts from his mind. In short, killing his boner. And upon noticing the visible frown he wore, she added "To keep up appearances" Leah then briefly offered an incomplete smile. He sighed, slamming the coffin once more as he'd not expected his mistress to show up at his wife's funeral. "How inappropriate Leah" Zane muttered as he laid the cream white orchid he'd been embracing atop the wood. With his back facing her, he stood still, offering a silent prayer... Up until he felt the warmth of her supple bust slowly crashing into his dark blue tailored suit "I love you Zane " Zane was unmoved by her words. Love? Love my status and money you mean? 'Ha', he chuckled inwardly. "Do you love me?" Leah asked in a low whisper as she rested her head on his broad rear, her arms slid underneath and wrapped gracefully around his torso "Or am I just-" Zane immediately freed himself from her grasp. He'd never met someone more selfish than her. "This is neither the place and definitely not the time" he brushed her off, "But if you so badly would love to know, that you'd ambush me at my wife's funeral, you're my mistress and nothing more" walking away without a momentarily consider of her feelings. In reality, he'd loved no one... Not even his deceased wife, Martha. He'd just married her to get his family off his back. The couple would barely spend time together in private. Whereas in public, they'd clutch arms, passionately kiss and faked smiles for the camera. His life was full of lies, puppeteered by his parents, the media and politics. And now that his beloved wife is gone, he already knew what was coming. "The press release is quite distasteful" Rhys Lowe, who'd retired and passed on his legacy to his eldest son, Zane Lowe, stated. After the funeral, he'd received a handful of condolences from both familiar and unfamiliar faces. Altogether, people he barely knew. His mother suggested he come over for dinner and stupidly, he'd done exactly that. Fully aware of the scorn he'd receive from father and mother's innate desire to be an abuela. "CEO mourns the loss of his wife with the help of another woman's comfort" he read out loud. "The next Martha Lowe?" "How catching " his tone harboured nothing but disappointment. Zane hadn't realized how much of a twisted woman Leah was up till now. She'd approached him knowing fully well there would be press there and could make headlines. "You could marry your mistress next" His mother suggested, taking a sip of her Moët as she savoured the taste with both eyes closed. Leah was getting exactly what she wanted. "She seems lovely. Good background, Nice figure, certainly satisfactory in bed," she wouldn't stop blabbering, Zane thought as he munched vigorously on his steak. Gradually loosing his appetite. "Leah would look good by your side-" "Leah this, Leah that. Father certainly must've thought the same when he married you, just an accessory" He barked, finally having enough. Zane proceeded to take the napkin and wiped whatever smear of grease that had been imprinted on the corner of his mouth. "This was lovely" sarcasm clear as day, he pushed back his chair, throwing himself up in a fit of rage "Goodnight " he then kissed his baffled mother on both cheek before taking a look at his father, who had his eyes still well fixated on the article. Having built an empire and being a significant figure, he cared more what the world thought of him than what his family did. And as the eldest, his parents had very high expectations from him. Now that he's failed to even keep his wife alive... let alone impregnate her, the part of him that cared felt burdened. Zane had to air his mind... He shamelessly loved being without a woman whom he'd dedicate his entire being to, he loved having multiple by his side. A blonde to f**k in the day, and a brunette at night. Pay for their services, toss them aside tomorrow and get replacements. What's wrong with that? No strings attached. That way no one gets hurt...That was Zane to you. He didn't see the need of forgoing his happiness simply because of Leah's one sided affection. And tonight, he wanted to be happy. "Two vodkas " he ordered upon arriving at the front desk lobby of the hotel. His hotel, to be precise. "Get it ready for me, I will be at the bar soon" he added as the worker rushed to make his boss' command. Zane owned a lot of properties, ranging from bars, hotels, strip clubs, night clubs to even the basic cabin in the woods to get away from the constant pressure from the peers, family... His miserable self. He casually strolled, sinking in the sight of the overly decorated corridor spilling with a line of green sofa chairs on the right and a circle of white futon encamped around a strangely shaped table. It was beautiful, but just not to his taste. He'd preferred a rather vast hall. Where he could freely walk. This choked decor simply was a reflection of his lifestyle. At the crowded bar, a waitress had brought two tiny glass cups, mistaking his request for shots. "Two bottles of vodkas" he repeated, emphasis on the bottle this time and smirked upon noticing the awe on her face. She offered side glances and a misleading smile every now and then, at least to Zane they were. He'd already thought of disrobing her in a mildly lit room, and having her ride him all night since he'd probably be too drunk to put his c**k in. A little bit more of the leftover vodka and he'd do just that. He'd f**k her till dawn, and still, on the day of his late wife's funeral. "Hey" someone suddenly yelled into his ears. The person in question now stood before him, while he analyzed... her. A doe eyed Jane. He would certainly be taking her to his bed tonight, Zane approved with a lopsided smirk and faint nod. "Our company has a policy Sir" With the music playing so loud and his hazy state, Zane was too intoxicated to make note of what she discussed. "To avoid breakouts and fights, each person is entitled to one bottle per night" What is this b***h going on about?, Zane thought as he watched her lips move uncannily. Just like his mom, she wouldn't shut up. 'However' his eyes glided to her short skirt, her bare long legs exposed and her feet in those heels- Just divine, and she, an undeniable work of art. He made the right choice on the hotel's uniform design, Zane praised himself as he took out his wallet, removing an unknown amount of cash and placing it on the counter. He looked at her, then back at the money then back at the clearly clueless woman within seconds. 'f*****g hell' "Hotel room" he managed to utter in a slurred speech "Takeeme" "Understood sir" she gave a professional smile, signaling to her colleague for assistance. Before she could however get anyone's attention, Zane had lunged his body upwards. Grasping, in one hand, the head of the concealed vodka and in another, he snaked his arm around her waist. "I want you to take me" It was her job to see to the customers, especially those drunk they could barely walk. She would rather have someone else take care of him, considering most of them would sometimes impose. "What is your room number sir?" She asked. "All of them" Zane said in the cockiest tone she ever heard. "Sure" the lady replied mockingly as she walked out of the bar clueless to this man's identity. Her boss' boss' boss', probably a fourth boss' boss. "Mr Zane? Oh my God you're wasted" a co worker of hers commented. Mr Zane? That Mr Zane who recently lost his wife?! "Take him to the royal suite" Her thoughts were immediately interrupted "We're a bit short staffed tonight" The lady simply did as told, she managed to haul the man more than half her weight to the royal suite, found at the ends of each hall. "I'm sorry for your loss Mr Zane" she said once she'd sat him down, setting aside the vodka. "The thought of loosing someone close to you... No wonder you planned on having two bottles" she whispered under her breath, still audible to him. Zane simply watched her feature sadden, unsure of why his 'loss' affected her and listened, occasionally forcing is brows up so as not to doze off. "You will eventually get through this" Her voice was comforting to listen to and soothed him, and almost like a therapist, he felt he could talk to her about anything. And anything he did. "My dad expects so much from me" He began, bursting into tears almost immediately as he let those unspoken words out "It's just so overwhelming sometimes "... "Being the eldest" "There there" despite being taken aback, she managed to let out, uncomfortably reassuring the stranger as she rubbed his back. "My mom" he paused briefly, wincing as he looked up the jade ceiling grasped by a chandelier "she's a woman... why the f**k should she tell me what to do" Her brows jerk, she actually pitied this asshole. A fragment of her considering that it might be the booze doing the talking. "All she wants are grandkids " he flings his hand up to cup her cheek. "But my wife, Martha was a fool committing suicide when she couldn't bear me a son" he narrowed his eyes "And I had pushed her to it" "Pushed her to... killing herself!?" He nods, "she was useless" half chuckling at his confession before uttering a completely unrelated phrase "You're pretty" And you're a psycho, she gathered. "I have work to do" unsettled, she manuevers his hand away from her face and sheathes him instead. Taking off his shoes before exiting the room. Day breaks and Zane's first thoughts were of her. He'd inquired and found out she was three days away from working a week at the hotel. "She was fired" the first waitress he'd had his eyes on the previous night reported "Company policy, Sir" 'Sleep with Mr.Zane Lowe, Get fired' "I didn't sleep with her " Zane uttered despite his massive hangover. "But she left with you and returned quite late" she emphasized "Even taking the s*x money" Of course she did, Zane thought disappointedly. Though she had not laid in bed with him, she was just as money minded it seems. "It's fine." He concluded, not ready to go through the stress of explaining himself... "She can go scrub floors elsewhere"