Tainted Love

Chapter 6

Inside the Luxurious Suite

Inside the room of a top-notch hotel, only the soft, golden glow of an expensive antique lantern lit up the vast space. Rain streaked down the elegant French windows, casting rippling shadows on the glossy marble floors. The storm outside seemed distant, muted by the thick glass, yet its presence lingered like a silent witness.

On the king-size bed, two lovers shared a heated moment. One was fueled by love, the other by something less pure.

Vivian straddled her half-naked boyfriend, Victor, clad in seductive designer lingerie that whispered of wealth and danger. Her hair tumbled down in dark waves, her eyes intense, her aura magnetic. Their lips collided in a desperate kiss, full of hunger and passion, as though they were fighting for space in heaven—an emotional chaos bottled into a fleeting moment of physical need.

Then came the crack in the glass.

“So… what about the money?” Victor asked suddenly, panting as he pulled away slightly. His question cut through the intimacy like a knife. His tone was eager, eyes already gleaming with something Vivian wished she could ignore.

Vivian blinked, masking her disappointment with a dazzling smile. She lightly slapped his shoulder in mock flirtation.

“Yes, my dad sent the money,” she said, tone breezy. “I’ll give you a very good amount.”

“Really?!” Victor shouted, the excitement so genuine it carved a deep line in his forehead. “How much? Come on, tell me!” He bounced like a dog that had just spotted a bone, unable to hide his greed.

“Wellllll…” she began, her voice teasing, “he gave me fifty million dollars.” Her smile widened, bright and infectious, though her eyes searched his face for the wrong reaction.

Victor’s jaw dropped. “Oh my God, love! This is insane!”

Vivian laughed. “Don’t scream just yet. What if I told you that’s just for graduating? He also gave me the option to pick a mansion, several cars… and I’m set to take over the company soon.”

“What!?” Victor stood up in excitement, still holding Vivian in his arms. He spun her around joyfully, nearly dropping her as they both laughed. “This calls for a celebration! This is unbelievable!”

Just as they were getting lost in their euphoric fantasy, a sharp knock echoed through the suite. At first, they ignored it. But it came again, more persistent. Then again—louder.

With a frustrated sigh, Vivian got off the bed and grabbed a silk robe.

“What?” she barked as she flung open the door, clearly annoyed. “Can’t you knock once and leave if there’s no answer? People are trying to enjoy their evening.”

Victor added with irritation, “Seriously, don’t you people know how to respect privacy?”

A woman in a formal black suit stood at the door, flanked by two intimidating men in uniform. She bowed her head slightly.

“Apologies, Miss Dary. We didn’t mean to disturb you. But we were sent by Mr. Maxwell Dary… to bring you home.”

Vivian raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? Are you insane?” she hissed. “Do you know who you're speaking to?”

“Miss,” the woman replied calmly, “this is a direct order from your father.”

“Then go find the Miss Dary you’re looking for. Because that’s not me,” Vivian snapped and tried to slam the door, but a guard blocked it with his foot.

“If persuasion fails,” the man said, his voice cold and commanding, “we have orders to use force.”

“Excuse me? What rubbish!” Vivian exclaimed, grabbing her phone. “Let me call my dad.”

Victor looked puzzled. “What’s going on?”

Vivian didn’t answer as she dialed.

“Daddy…” she started, but her father’s voice roared through the phone, cutting her short.

“Come. Home. NOW.”

The call ended abruptly. Vivian stood frozen.

Victor came closer. “What did he say?”

“He’s cancelling the trip. He sent these people to bring me home,” she said, her voice shaking.

Victor cursed under his breath. “Damn. I didn’t even get to enjoy Dubai properly.”

Vivian grabbed his hand. “Don’t worry, baby. We have enough money. We could run away, start a life somewhere far. Trust me, we’ll be fine.”

But Victor recoiled, shaking his head. “No… no, Vivian. You're leaving a billion-dollar company, all this wealth, to start over with just fifty million? That doesn’t make sense.”

Her heart dropped. “Victor… are you more interested in the wealth than me?”

He hesitated. “No! Don’t twist it. I just care about your future. Even if you had nothing, I’d still go with you. But I don't want you to throw everything away.”

Before Vivian could reply, the guards stepped in again.

“Miss Dary,” the woman warned. “We’re running out of patience—”

“Can you SHUT UP!?” Vivian snapped, eyes blazing.

---

Back at the Mansion

Inside the grand Dary mansion, all was silent except for the sound of heavy footsteps and the rumble of thunder outside.

Vivian stood at the entrance, her cheek stinging, her hand still pressed against it. For the first time in her twenty-two years of life, her father had slapped her.

Her eyes blinked rapidly, trying to wake herself from what she hoped was a nightmare. But the dull pain was very real.

She had come in prepared to complain about the harsh treatment she received on the private jet, not expecting a physical blow.

“Dad…” she whispered, her eyes glistening with tears. She searched his face, hoping to find regret, guilt—anything. But Mr. Dary’s fury was far from finished.

He raised his hand to strike again, but her mother grabbed it just in time.

“Enough, Maxwell! Please… forgive her,” Mrs. Dary pleaded.

Maxwell Dary’s hand trembled, veins bulging, his face red with fury. He yanked his hand from his wife’s grip and pointed a shaking finger at Vivian—but words failed him. Instead, he clutched his chest and staggered backward.

“Dad?” Vivian shrieked, rushing forward.

“Maxwell!” Mrs. Dary screamed. “Doctor Phil! Somebody help!”

The family doctor and two guards ran down the stairs and helped Mr. Dary as he collapsed into their arms. They quickly rushed him into the master bedroom.

---

Moments Later

Vivian paced anxiously in the hallway, her hands shaking.

“Mom, what’s going on? Why did Dad suddenly faint?” she asked, voice breaking.

Mrs. Dary turned to her with tear-filled eyes. “Will you shut up?! This is all your fault! Just pray nothing happens to my husband.”

Vivian backed away, stunned. Guilt wrapped around her chest like a vice.

“Oh no…” she whispered. Her knees buckled slightly as she fell to the couch, clasping her hands in silent prayer. Lord, please don’t let anything happen to him. Please…

Minutes later, the door creaked open and Doctor Phil stepped out.

Mrs. Dary ran to him. “Doctor, is my husband okay?”

Doctor Phil gave a small smile. “Yes, Mrs. Dary. He’s going to be fine. Thank God, it was only a mild cardiac arrest. He needs rest and no stress.”

Mrs. Dary let out a long breath and sank into a chair. “Thank God.”

Vivian closed her eyes in relief, but her guilt hadn’t faded. She stared at the bedroom door, realizing that everything had just changed.

She had money, yes. But at what cost?

At this point her mind was in chaos.