Claimed by the Wrong Wolfe

Vivian’s POV “Hear me out, please,” Vivian Lawrence pleaded with Tristan Wolfe, one of Los Angeles’s most powerful billionaire CEOs and head of the Wolfe Group. She stood behind him as he turned his back on her, refusing to face her. She had been his personal assistant for three years now since graduating from college, and somewhere along the way, they had fallen for each other and had been lovers since then, but it was all over now. A few days ago, someone had anonymously leaked s*x tapes online involving a woman who somehow looked exactly like her. The media had gone wild over the scandal, especially since Tristan had never hidden his relationship with Vivian and, as one of the most prominent names in the business world, had plenty of rivals who would gladly use it to humiliate and discredit him. Without so much as hearing her side of the story, Tristan had believed the videos and assumed she had been cheating on him the entire time they’d been together, and just like that, he no longer had even a minute to spare for her. But it wasn’t her. She loved Tristam with all her heart and had never cheated on him, not once, and she would never have even considered it. She stood there, pleading her innocence. “Can you at least let me explain?” She reached for his arm, and Tristan's piercing gray eyes, the ones she had once drowned in, met hers, cold and disapproving, as though even her touch alone irritated him. “Leave, Vivian. There’s absolutely nothing to explain. Just leave,” he snapped, his voice cold and stern. “You have no shame. I took you under my wing and helped make you who you are today. I do basically everything for you, yet you had the guts to cheat on me. Do you really take me for a fool? Look, whatever we had ended the moment I found out you’d been whoring yourself around.” The words hit Vivian like a missile, shattering the last bit of hope that Tristan would eventually realize the truth. Tears welled in her eyes. Her pounding heart drowning out everything else happening around her. She turned and hurried out of the room without another word, knowing that staying a moment longer would only shatter her heart further. Vivian’s steps quickened as she hurried through the Wolfe mansion’s front door, breaking into a run as she headed for her car. She reached her car, climbed in, and drove away. She headed to a bar, hoping the bustle, music, and a few drinks would help drown out the misery and heartbreak Tristan had left behind, even if only for a few hours. She arrived and took a seat at the counter. She ordered a glass of liquor, gulped it down in one swallow, and set the empty glass back on the counter, and ordered another. She wasn’t a drinker, but at the moment, she just wanted to forget the pain. Everything. Vivian never would have imagined Tristan, the man she loved, could look at her with such contempt and say such cruel things over an accusation she hadn’t even had the chance to explain. After a few shots, she realized the liquor wasn’t helping matters. The memory she had been trying to escape was the very one she had been dwelling on. The harder she tried to forget it, the more persistent the memory became. Vivian shook her head, as if doing so could somehow make the thoughts disappear. She refilled her glass and was about to raise it to her lips when a man’s hand stopped her. He took the glass from her and set it back on the counter. The figure took the seat beside her. Vivian thought it was one of the bar performers trying to hit on her or put on a show. Her eyes only widened when she realized who it really was. “Have you been drinking?” Tristan asked, his deep, husky baritone snapping her out of her dazed state. She wanted to give him a very hot slap but stopped herself. “You bastard!” she slurred. She hopped off the stool and staggered onto the floor. “Go away, Tristan,” she muttered, letting out a small belch. “I trusted you to stand by me, even when no one else would, but I guess I was wrong.” Her face twisted into a scowl. “I’m sorry, Vivian. I should have thought things through before jumping to conclusions. I’m truly sorry.” Vivian couldn’t believe her ears. A part of her wanted to forgive him, but her anger was still too strong to let that happen so easily. “You’re sorry?” she scoffed. “You didn’t even care to hear what I had to say. How could you believe some scandal on the internet over me? I thought what we had meant more than that. I thought I meant more to you than that.” Tristan rose to his feet, pulled her closer, and silenced her with a kiss. Vivian didn’t resist. A part of her desperately wanted to believe Tristan was finally sorry, and regretted his actions. Gosh! She had missed him terribly, and his sudden tenderness stirred feelings she had been trying so hard to suppress. She leaned into him, and wrapped her arms tightly around him. After a while, Tristan broke the kiss, took her hand, and said, “Come on. I have a surprise for you.” He led her out of the bar, steadying her as she stumbled, then helped her into his car, and they drove off. Vivian couldn’t quite tell where they were heading through the fog of her drunkenness, but she trusted Tristan enough not to panic. ****** The next morning, Vivian woke with her entire body aching and her mouth feeling like garbage, the taste somehow even worse. What the hell had happened last night? The last thing she remembered was a hand stopping her from pouring the shot of liquor down her throat. She couldn’t remember anything after that. “Good Lord, what had I been thinking, drinking so much?” She groaned. Even that small sound sent wave of pain through her pounding head. She sat up slowly, pushing her blonde hair from her face as she looked around in confusion. She slowly looked down at herself, and she was naked, so she quickly grabbed a bedsheet and wrapped it around herself. Then fragments of the previous night returned. She remembered entering Tristan’s car. Which meant she had followed him here. She looked around again, expecting him to step out from somewhere, but he didn’t. Where had he gone? Unease settled over her. She got up and began searching around the suite, and still she couldn't find him. Back in the room, her eyes fell on a few items on the bedside table: a bundle of cash, an unopened pack of condoms, and a small silver object she couldn’t identify from where she stood. She had to walk over for a closer look to find out it was a lighter. She had never known Tristan to smoke, so why did he have a lighter? Vivian frowned. She picked it up, turned it over in her hand, studying the strange markings. She had never known Tristan to care about personal markings either. She set it back on the table, concluding he'd probably picked it up at the bar last night. Then the sound from the TV caught her attention, drawing her gaze toward the screen. Images of Tristan and another woman appeared side by side, with the words “Engagement Ceremony of the Wolfe & Knight Families” displayed beneath them. An announcer appeared on the screen and officially announced their engagement. Her body trembled, and she plopped to the floor. The slow thud seemed to jar loose the last pieces of the previous night's memories. This same man had held her in his arms, apologized for hurting her, and promised he would never hurt her again. But now? The realization sank in. Tristan never meant any of it. He had used her for the last time.