MR. TYCOON'S SUGARBABY

Chapter 5

Jordan's POV

Sunlight streamed through the windows, bathing me with its bright, warm glow. I groggily opened my eyes, blinking several times, trying to focus despite the furious pounding in my head. I sat up slowly, moaning and clutching my head, the slightest exertion worsening my headache.

Gathering the silk sheets around my naked body, I took in my surroundings. I winced, shuddering slightly as the memories of the previous night flooded in. My gaze quickly darted to the other side of the bed; Gabriel was gone.

Relief washed over me, I wasn't prepared to face him yet.

But strangely, as I reached for my phone on the nightstand, I felt a slight twinge of disappointment. I guess he couldn't wait to get away. I wasn't sure how the whole one-night-stand arrangement worked anyway, exchanging pleasantries in the morning was probably not standard procedure.

It was 8:30 am. I had five missed calls and eighteen texts from Francine. I winced, I was going to get an earful from her later. I opened my phone scanning through her frantic messages. I quickly dialed her number, putting the phone on speaker. A couple of seconds later, her shrill voice came through;

"What the hell, Jordan?! Do you know how worried I've been?"

I chuckled holding the phone farther away from my throbbing head. "Good morning to you too, mom."

I couldn't see her but I knew she most likely rolled her eyes.

"I'm glad you find this whole situation funny. I was seconds away from filing a missing person's report. Where are you?"

"I'm sorry, Fran, I got a little... carried away." I bit my lip, my gaze sweeping through the lavish suite. "I'll tell you all about it later. Right now, I need a Tylenol and gallons of Gatorade." I rubbed my forehead tiredly. I felt so sore, but strangely, my tired body brimmed with warmth and satisfaction.

"You're hungover. Good. At least there is some justice. You owe me big time." She huffed, hanging up.

I chuckled, scanning through the rest of the notifications on my phone. My schedule was pretty much free for the rest of the day and thank God, because taking orders and waiting tables was not making the top of my list this morning. It was a Saturday, which meant my shift at the strip club where I worked did not begin until 7:00 pm.

I did have an appointment at the hospital later by 10. I felt my mood dampen at the reminder.

I threw off the sheets, climbed out of the massive bed, and wandered into the vast sitting area, immediately spotting my purse and dress sitting on the divan with my shoes tucked underneath. I grabbed them and headed in the direction where I assumed the bathroom was. I needed to freshen up and get out of there stat before room service showed up to throw me out. I imagined the receptionist would rub her hands in glee at that prospect.

Four other doors led to different rooms. The first revealed a gym, the second room was locked, the third opened up to a sleek kitchen and the fourth revealed a state-of-the-art bathroom.

I looked at my reflection in the wide mirror, stifling a shriek of laughter at the mess that stared back at me. My hair looked like a bird's nest, my lipstick was smeared, and I had a crusty line of dried-up drool at the corner of my mouth. I silently thanked the heavens that I did not have an audience this morning. There were spare toothbrushes and body care products on the marble countertop and an army of fluffy white towels hanging from the walls. I wrapped one around my head to keep my hair dry. I quickly brushed my teeth and stepped into the shower. I barely let the water run through my body before stepping out. I wrapped a towel around my body and emptied the contents of my purse onto the countertop. I hastily put on my clothes which strangely had a slight scent of Gabriel's cologne lingering about them. Just then, I heard the doorbell ring, that was my cue to leave.

"Coming!" I yelled, brushing my hair in ruthless haste, feeling my scalp burn with the impact. I bundled up the wild locks into a ponytail. I replaced the contents of my purse and rushed into the sitting area. I opened the door to a young, impeccably dressed attendant who greeted me with a polite smile. "Buongiorno, Signorina, I have brought your breakfast. May I come in?"

I was quite surprised by the turn of events, but I quickly recovered. I cleared my throat, stepping aside. "Please, come in."

As I watched him wheel in a trolley laden with covered dishes, I couldn't help but wonder if he had the wrong room.

"Shall I set the table on the balcony, Signorina?" He asked, turning to face me.

I nodded awkwardly, fighting the urge to ask if he was in the right room, but decided against it, seeing as that would put me in a difficult situation. I planned to play it cool for the time being and then bolt at the first chance I got.

I watched as he expertly laid the table then turned to enquire if there was anything else I needed. I waved him off, thanking him before he left. Once alone, I tentatively sat at the table, eyeing the extravagant spread before me.

Fresh croissants, omelets with assorted fillings, Danish pastries, sandwiches, fresh fruit, cheese, yogurt, freshly squeezed orange juice, and bottles of mineral water. A vase of lilies completed the elegant display.

My stomach growled as the aroma of delicious food wafted to me, making my mouth water. I bit my lip in deep contemplation. Even if this was a mix-up, it would be a crime to let such a feast go to waste.

Feeling justified, I picked up a croissant and began to dig in.

After finishing my meal, I wandered back into the bedroom, where an envelope on the nightstand caught my eye, something I hadn’t noticed before. Curious, I walked over to the nightstand, picked up, and inspected the item, feeling its unexpected weight. My name was neatly scrawled across it. With growing unease, I tore it open, only to be greeted by a thick stack of crisp hundred-euro bills.

I gasped, glancing around the empty suite even though I knew I was alone. My initial disbelief quickly turned to confusion, and then, with a sickening clarity, it hit me. My chest tightened, and anger surged through me.

The bastard!

He was paying me—as if I were some cheap fling he picked up off the street. Paying me for the s*x. Was that all I meant to him? And really, what was I expecting? Jumping into a stranger's bed the first night I met him. It didn't matter that he was smooth and savvy and drop-dead gorgeous.

Shame and confusion churned inside me as I placed the envelope back on the nightstand. Tears stung at the corners of my eyes, but I swallowed them back, refusing to let them fall. Straightening my clothes with trembling hands, I slung my purse over my shoulder and walked out of the suite without looking back.

💋

I took a taxi back to my tiny apartment, exhaustion weighing heavily on me. As soon as I stepped inside, I collapsed onto the sofa, closing my eyes and rubbing my forehead. The events of the previous night played through my mind in a blur. I opened my eyes, scanning through the place. I lived in a modest mid-rise building in the heart of Isola, its Scandinavian design bringing a sense of calm with its soft hues of beige, gray, and blue. The large windows offered a picturesque view of the neighborhood below, a far cry from luxury.

It wasn't much, but it was home.

A soft ding from my phone reminded me of my hospital appointment. I kicked off my shoes and made my way to the bedroom, where the aftermath of last night's frantic search for the perfect dress lay scattered across the bed and floor. I sighed, tossing my shoes aside and dropping my purse on the counter. There was no time for a long shower, so I slipped into a plaid flannel shirt and jeans, hastily lacing up a pair of black sneakers. A quick glance in the mirror reassured me that I looked presentable enough. Purse in hand, I headed out.

On my way down the stairs, I spotted Giovanni, a sweet, bright-eyed kid who lived with his mother and her live-in lover a few doors down. He sat on the stairs hugging his knees.

"Hey there, fella," I said, settling next to him.

"Ciao." He replied timidly, fidgeting with his fingers. I noticed that his brown eyes were red-rimmed when he looked up at me. He'd most likely been crying.

"Trouble at home?" I asked, playfully nudging him with my shoulders.

"Sì." He sniffed.

I knew his situation all too well. His mother Valerie and her live in lover fought often, and the poor kid always got front-row seat whenever it got ugly. The boyfriend was a deadbeat who found solace at the bottom of a bottle, and from what I’d pieced together, his cruelty likely went beyond harsh words. I tried to look out for Giovanni when I could. They were probably at each other's throats again.

"I'm sorry Giovanni." I reached out and ruffled his dark head. "Wanna come over to my place later? We can go play in the park." I reached into my bag and pulled out a granola bar I always carried around.

"Grazie." He said with a small smile before skipping off.

I continued down the stairs, exited the building, and hailed a taxi. After rattling off the hospital address to the driver, we were on our way.