THE WIDOWED CEO’S PROSTITUTE

CHAPTER 6

Andrew Carter

FLASHBACK

10 Years Ago

"I’m so sorry, sir," I heard the doctor’s words while looking at my dead wife before my eyes. I am standing by the bed, holding her cold, lifeless hands. I see her pale skin and her mouth, which was once full of color, now tinted with a purple hue.

Sophia is dead, and no one knows the cause.

"Sir, we need to take the body," I heard my staff member said, but I just looked at the people in the room and gave a brief nod. Everyone understands and leaves the room, leaving me alone with my beloved, now lifeless.

I bring her hands to my lips and give them a lingering kiss. After that, I just watch and sigh repeatedly, unable to believe that this is happening.

"Why did you leave?" I askeded like a fool, knowing she won’t answer or even hear me. "Sophia, you left with our baby." With one hand, I place it on her abdomen. We had discovered two weeks ago that we were going to be parents, and we were so happy. However, I knew my wife’s health wasn’t good, but the doctors never figured out what it was. We had faith that everything would be alright.

I smile—faith! What a small word, and Sophia believed it had tremendous power. But in her case, it didn’t work, she died!

Sophia didn’t get the chance to continue living, and no doctor was able to determine what happened to her, just as they couldn’t determine what happened to my brother. They think it might have been a simple heart attack or an anxiety attack that accelerated the heart.

They don’t know; that’s the truth. No one knows.

"I love you," I said while my hand rests on her abdomen. "You will always be the woman of my life," I said with a small, sad smile forming on my lips. "I love you, Sophia, and no one will ever take the place you have in my heart," I said, placing her hand over my heart. "I learned to love you, but love isn’t for me. The proof is you are leaving with our baby." I said, and for the first time in many years, a tear falls from my face.

Tears are not a part of my adult life, but they were very present in my childhood.

I remember my father’s words: "The world isn’t kind to us, and when it gives us happiness, it’s only for a brief moment. So, Andrew, learn to live in the shadows." He was harsh and cold, just had to be.

I see myself at this moment weak and seeming like a helpless child. I don’t like the feeling I’m experiencing, that feeling of desperation trying to take over me. I am not weak, my father always said that love makes us weak, and now I am feeling this weakness, trying to find reasons in life to continue.

I lost my brother a few months ago, and the cause of his death was a heart attack. I felt the pain of his mourning, but it was in the arms of Sophia, my beloved wife. She gave me more love than I had in my entire life. In fact, I don’t even remember having love before, the scars on my back are proof of that. However, Sophia showed me something new, a genuine and true love with which I could make plans, but that went away with her.

My father was right: happiness was not meant for us, and we must always return to the shadows. And that’s what I will do—return to the shadows, but worse than ever before.

My father was the devil, and I will return to being a demon.

"I love you, and no one will ever fill the space you left," I said and made a slight bow of my head, where my soft lips touched hers—cold and lifeless, no longer resembling those sweet lips.

I stood up after a few minutes and called the doctor and my butler.

"Take her away," I said, and left the room.

END OF FLASHBACK

Present Day

That day is etched in my memory. After leaving the room and following Sophia’s and our baby’s burial, I spoke with the management of the hospital where Sophia had been admitted days before coming home and passing away. I ordered that all the staff who had cared for her be dismissed, or I would destroy the hospital myself. Of course, my request was met, and an unprepared team is no longer part of that hospital.

I am standing in my office, looking out over the streets of New York City. My office is the presidential suite of a 28th-story building, along with many ventures throughout the city, country, and world.

Carter's Architecture is a globally renowned company. I am a global powerhouse, no one dares to bring me down.

I am known in the business world and life as the "demon in a suit." I have no pity or sympathy for anyone. In fact, I was raised to be this way—without feelings. I only had that once in my life, but it went away with Sophia, my wife, who passed away 10 years ago. I lost her, and since then, I haven’t allowed anyone to take care of my heart. My life is regulated by escorts and work. I have never seen a woman. I don’t want to confuse things to everyone, I am a widower and that’s it. I don’t want to get involved with anyone; Sophia was my love, and she always will be.

However, something strange happened a month ago. I slept with a different escort. Her name is Anne—Anne Moore, as Bruce told me. When I entered the club that night which I was used to visiting, I saw her dancing and singing on stage. Something stirred within me. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. That girl with brown eyes was an escort different from the others in that place. I saw several men eager to be with her, and rightly so. The girl was beautiful. I estimate her age to be around 20, which means I am almost double her age, as I am 38. I had s*x with Anne several times that night. When I finished, I noticed that the girl felt some kind of attachment to me. I learned to read people when I was molded into who I am. I noticed she had some emotional attachment to me. It must be because she had only slept with two men in her life. At first, I was shocked by the information, but soon returned to my usual stern expression. I don’t perform oral s*x on prostitutes, but with her, I did, knowing it would be her first time. I always use condoms, but in the heat of the moment, I know I didn’t use one. But it won’t lead to anything because I am clean, and I believe she is too. Besides, she must be using some form of contraception, given her life, and unforeseen events can happen.

That girl affected me. I paid for a month to be with her, but I didn’t return. I told Bruce to inform her that I had the worst night of my life, and that a cheap w***e didn’t deserve my attention for a month, that she would need to work very hard to satisfy a man. I wanted to keep her away and not let her dream of my return. She seemed innocent, and I didn’t want my world of shadows to come and ruin her already devastated world. Anne Moore didn’t seem made for that life, but that was not my problem.

I just kept monitoring her that month to ensure she wouldn’t be with anyone else, since I paid a lot of dollars to have her all to myself for 30 days.

And indeed, Bruce kept his word. I believe today she will be in another’s arms, and I think it’s for the best. That girl was different, and I can never let her near me again.

I hear my phone ring and go to answer it.

"Yes," I said with a cold, low voice, as I’m accustomed to.

"Meeting in 3 minutes, Mr. Carter," I hear my secretary said.

"I'm on my way," I replied and hung up.

That’s how I am—I don’t said "please" or "thank you." Those words were not taught to me. I only know the word "power." That word, yes, I know it makes a significant impact and wreaks havoc in many lives.

I pour myself a glass of whiskey to relieve some of the tension my body has involuntarily formed. That girl aroused me in an unbelievable way, something I’ve never felt before. Even with my wife, it wasn't as hard when I saw her. Every time I think about it, I curse myself a thousand times. I feel the warm liquid slide down my throat and, at the same time, my body starts to return to normal.

I left my office and walked the short steps to the meeting room. When I entered, I saw everyone present stand up and look at me with fear. Perhaps they know they haven’t done their jobs correctly.

I walked past them without saying a word and sat in the chair at the head of the table—the chair that symbolizes power and authority.

I looked at everyone present and gave a half-smile. I see the fear in their eyes, and I enjoy it. The smell of fear attracts me. Knowing that everyone fears me makes me feel even better about my ego.

"You're all fired. Please report to HR immediately," I said, then stood up.

The meeting lasted less than a minute. My secretary leaves the room immediately behind me, and I sense her astonishment in her voice.

"Mr. Carter..."

I interrupted her. "I want a new team to start working immediately."

I entered my office.

I am not a man of many words. In fact, I am a man with almost none.

I was sitting, reviewing some documents when I receive a message from my secretary informing me that my friends are at the door.

I have only two friends: Steven and Logan. They have known me since childhood and are aware of my upbringing. They are the only ones who have seen my pains and frustrations, even if only for a brief moment.

Both enter my office wearing their tailored suits and impeccably styled hair. We are of similar ages, and I would even say we have common tastes, since they also spend their nights with escorts.

"Good afternoon, Andrew," Steven said with a smile on his face.

"Good afternoon, Andrew," Logan said as well.

"Good afternoon! What brings you here?" I askeded.

"Can’t we visit our friend anymore?" Steven askeded, offended.

"Not at an inconvenient time. What do you want?" I asked, sounding indifferent, but I know they are used to it.

I’ve always been a man of direct words. I’m quite rude, and I don’t care if it’s family or friends. I am like this, and no one changes me. Only Sophia managed to bring something good out of me, only her, and no one else.

"I want to know why you’re not going to the club anymore," Logan asked.

"Because I don’t want to," I said.

They both look at each other, waiting for me to speak.

"I need to work," I said, irritated.

"You haven’t been to the club since you slept with that piece of heaven," Steven said.

"It’s hard to believe that an escort affected the great and powerful Carter so much," Logan said, lighting a cigarette.

I am forced to admit that their comments bothered me more than they should have.

"I would never be enchanted by a cheap w***e," I said, trying to convince myself more than them.

"Why haven’t you gone back, Andrew?" Steven asked again.

"Because I have many things to do at the company. I’m buried in meetings," I said firmly.

They both look at me and pretend to believe it.

"Let’s go to the club this weekend. I believe we can have some fun, and you’re more irritable than ever. Even the look of your secretary outside shows fear," Logan said.

"Indeed, Andrew. What’s being said in the business world this month is that you’re worse than ever," Steven said.

I leaned back in my chair and lit a cigarette, returning my attention to my friends.

"Fine, we’ll go this weekend," I said.

They both looked at me and smiled.

My friends are just like me, we three have a difficult way of dealing with things.

I chat a bit more with them, and then they leave. I’m left wondering how it will be to meet my "Little Red Riding Hood" after this past month. How many men has she slept with just this week alone? She’s an escort, and the novelty will soon wear off, and she’ll become just like any other in her profession. But I admit I’m eager to see her again.