Tainted Love

Chapter 19

⸻

Inside Victor’s apartment

Finally, Bianca had found her way into Victor and Vivian’s apartment. The way she pushed through the door with the quiet arrogance of someone entitled to a throne made Vivian’s stomach turn. She had expected Bianca to arrive fragile, weary, or at least humble…..after all, this was supposed to be a girl “going through a hard time.” But the figure that stepped in hardly looked desperate.

Vivian studied her carefully. Bianca carried herself with a strange air….less like a woman seeking refuge, and more like someone exhausted from indulgence. Her hair was sleek, her nails freshly done, and her clothes bore no trace of wear. Even her bags, which Victor’s men now hauled inside, told a story. Vivian frowned. They weren’t luggages dragged from a journey. They were glossy shopping bags….new, expensive, the kind you collect after a spree in designer stores.

Didn’t she have a suitcase? Vivian wondered. Or is she pretending? Did she just buy these things on her way here? Something in her chest tightened, an unease she couldn’t name.

Bianca stood in the center of the living room, glancing around like she was inspecting a property she might soon call her own. When her eyes met Vivian’s, she smiled faintly.

“Hey, Vivian, how are you?” she said, casual, as though this were her home and not an intrusion.

Vivian’s lips parted, but words delayed. There was something off. Was Bianca truly struggling….or was this all a performance? Her confidence unsettled her. At the very least, some appreciation, some humility, should have been shown. But instead, Bianca rubbed her stomach and sighed dramatically.

“I’m so tired. I need to eat and sleep,” she murmured.

“Food will be ready soon. I’ve ordered some,” Victor’s voice came from behind. His tone was clipped, commanding, as if he were addressing both of them.

Vivian watched in disbelief as her boyfriend guided Bianca toward a bedroom…their guest room, the way he touched her elbow too gently, too carefully. The gesture resembled a husband escorting his own wife.

Vivian sank back into her chair, heart thudding. Am I overthinking this? Or does Bianca truly believe she owns this space?

When Victor returned moments later, his words added more fuel to her unease.

“Vivian, I really have to leave for somewhere. Please, take care of Bianca. Let her not feel like an outcast.”

An outcast? Vivian almost scoffed. Who was this girl to demand such careful treatment? But she simply nodded, masking her growing suspicion.

⸻

At the Club

Far across town, neon lights bled into the night. A top-notch club buzzed with chaos…strippers swayed on poles, servers glided in sequined dresses, and women prowled for wealthy prey. In a smoky corner sat Victor, surrounded by men whose laughter was louder than the music. A mountain of chips lay before him, but his face was dark, stormy.

He had just lost five million dollars.

Anger burned in his veins, yet pride urged him to continue. He couldn’t stop now, not when everyone was watching. Victor had always claimed he was the king of gambling…invincible, untouchable. Losing was not an option.

He reached for more chips, ready to stake another fortune, when a familiar figure cut through the haze of perfume and alcohol.

“Elvis,” Victor muttered under his breath.

They called him “Barbie” in the underground world. Feminine, flamboyant, unapologetically bold. He walked straight to Victor, ignoring the stares and murmurs that followed.

“Victor, I’ve been waiting for you for hours,” Elvis snapped, his voice sharp, edged with a lover’s irritation. “What the f**k are you still doing here?”

The room grew tense. The men at the table exchanged smirks, some rolling their eyes at the scene. To them, Elvis was nothing but a distraction, a scandal attached to Victor’s name.

Victor stood abruptly. “Sorry, Barbie. Excuse me, guys…I gotta go. Next time, I’ll show you where real power lies.”

He left the chips behind, the whispers trailing after him, and followed Elvis out.

⸻

Back at the Apartment

Hours passed. Vivian sat in the living room, half-distracted by a movie but fully aware of the silence above. When Bianca’s voice finally pierced the air, it grated on her nerves.

“Vivian!”

It came from upstairs, pitched high with urgency. Vivian tilted her head back, sighing.

“Yes?”

Bianca appeared at the banister, one hand resting dramatically on her barely three-months-old belly, walking as though she were about to deliver any second.

“Please, I’m hungry. The baby is very hungry. I want to eat a burger and drink a smoothie.” Her tone was not pleading…it was demanding.

Vivian blinked, startled. “But… you just ate, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Vivian, I ate. But my baby is still hungry,” Bianca replied, almost smug.

Vivian inhaled slowly. This girl has no shame. “Alright, I’ll call Victor. He can order some for you.”

“No,” Bianca interrupted, shaking her head quickly. “I don’t want an ordered one. I want it homemade.”

Vivian let out a faint laugh. “Then that’s perfect,,,.the kitchen is on the left. Make yourself at home.”

“I’m asking you to cook for me. I can’t do it,” Bianca shot back, restless and defiant.

Vivian stared at her, patience thinning. “Bianca, you’re not the only pregnant one here. I’m pregnant too. I can’t do it. Honestly, how did it even cross your mind? I don’t want to sound rude, but are you okay?”

The silence stretched between them. Then, without another word, Bianca spun on her heel, stormed into her room, and slammed the door with a loud bang.

Vivian sat frozen for a moment, her mouth slightly open. “What the f**k…” she whispered to herself.

⸻

The Secret Hotel

Meanwhile, in a luxury hotel suite across the city, the air was thick with the scent of weed and alcohol. Dim light flickered from scented candles, casting golden shadows across the bed where two men lay tangled.

Victor and Elvis.

Their skin glistened with sweat, their breathing heavy and uneven, as though they had just finished hours of exertion. To the unknowing eye, the scene might have looked sordid, shameful. But to them, it was their secret paradise.

“I love you so much, Victor,” Elvis whispered, tracing idle shapes along Victor’s body. His voice carried the intoxication of devotion, almost childlike.

Victor smirked lazily, kissing him in reply. He reached for his phone on the nightstand and, with a few taps, transferred a fortune.

“I just sent you five million dollars,” he murmured. “Spoil yourself.”

Elvis’s eyes widened, lighting up with greedy joy. “Thank you, Daddy,” he purred. This was nothing new….Victor often paid for his loyalty, for his silence…but the thrill of receiving such wealth never dimmed.

Elvis turned, draping himself over Victor, eager to continue their intimacy. Victor responded with a low chuckle, indulging him again. Their passion spilled over into the bathroom, steam and water joining their heat, their noise echoing down the hallways of the hotel.

Complaints from guests went unanswered. The lovers were deaf to the world, consumed only by each other.

⸻

The Two Worlds

While Victor lost himself in indulgence, Vivian sat at home, staring at the walls of the apartment that felt less and less hers. Bianca’s presence hung like an unwanted perfume…..loud, entitled, invasive.

She pressed a hand to her own belly, her child stirring within. What game is Victor playing? she thought. What is Bianca’s true place in all this?

And far away, Victor’s double life spun deeper into shadows….gambling away fortunes, paying off his lover, keeping secrets from the woman who still called herself his girlfriend and baby mama.

But secrets had a way of unraveling, and in that house filled with unease.