Falling for the Enemy

Ch.17

Althea’s Pov

"Hey, are you alright?"

I chose to disregard the man sitting next to me at the bar as I took a sip of my gin. I was tired of men constantly inquiring about my well-being; they buzzed around me like bees, either trying to buy me a drink or asking me to dance.

I understood their true intentions—they wanted to take me to bed.

"I'll have another one of these, please," I told the bartender.

I gazed at the red dress I had on. It was my best friend Ella's. She was vibrant, overflowing with energy, adventurous, and had a passion for partying, especially during stressful times. She seemed to have no cares or troubles in her life.

She enjoyed the freedom to pursue anything she desired.

Ella was always my go-to person when I felt overwhelmed. After my mom passed away, I was engulfed in sorrow. The heartache of losing her truly shattered me. Ella was the sole person who helped me escape from my troubles.

I fell in love with gin and tonic. Ever since Ella introduced me to this delightful drink, it has been my constant companion. It turned into my medicine, my friend, my sanctuary, and my cure.

"Sure thing, miss." The bartender winked as he prepared the gin and placed it in front of me.

I let out a frustrated sigh as I downed my gin and tonic. The bitterness caused me to wince, yet I found it delightful.

"Listen, I can help you unwind a bit; the enjoyment is just for tonight," the bartender suggested.

"Huh? What do you mean by that?" I asked, feeling puzzled.

"Um... I can tell you’re looking for some tranquility and could benefit from a little pleasure to alleviate your pain tonight. Just head over to that area and look for room 120. You’ll have a great time, trust me."

"REALLY?" I exclaimed. I could definitely use some fun tonight.

I grabbed the glass and was just about to take a sip when someone yanked it away from me.

"Are you out of your mind? She’s intoxicated, and you can’t send her off like that!"

I was startled. The commanding tone made me jump in shock.

"Althea? What brings you here?" I turned to see a hazy figure resembling Mr. Valenti.

"I’m with my boyfriend," I answered.

"Boyfriend? And who might that be?"

"You?" I started to chuckle.

"I have no clue what your issue is, but this place isn’t safe for you. You’re really drunk, and I’m taking you home."

"NO! I refuse to go home. I want to head over there," I insisted, pointing to the spot the bartender suggested.

"No, you can't go there. It's dangerous."

"I am going there."

"Quit being so stubborn."

"Why should I?"

"You will because I'm trying to assist you. Don't push my limits and just come with me."

"NO." I shook my head. "Fine, don't come crying to me later."

"Crying to you? Crying for what?" I asked, bewildered. "For this." He hoisted me up and tossed me over his shoulder.

"Hey, put me down! What do you think you're doing?" I yelled. "I warned you, but you didn't heed my warning."

Ouch, my wrist! I felt the sting after several bumps against his strong back. He set me down in a car I recognized from somewhere and fastened my seatbelt before sliding into the driver's seat.

"HELP! HELP! KIDNAPPER!" I began pounding on the window.

"Could you please be quiet? I’m assisting you, not abducting you. It’s me, Eros, your employer, and I’m bringing you back home."

"You resemble him, but you can’t possibly be him."

"Why not? What makes it impossible for me to be him?"

"Because he’s an attractive, wealthy, intimidating workaholic. He would never set foot in a place like this."

"I hate to break it to you, but I am Eros Valenti. Whether you believe it or not."

I couldn’t remember how we ended up in that room. Either he dragged me there or carried me. I was intoxicated and clinging to him with feeble arms. Eventually, he laid me down on the bed.

"Lay down here and sleep," he said, preparing to leave. I grasped his hand and pulled him, causing him to land on top of me.

I awoke at dawn, feeling a bit lost. A pounding headache plagued me.

I scanned the room. Goodness, where am I?

I quickly sat up and noticed I was wearing a white shirt, while my red dress lay crumpled on the floor. Oh my God! What occurred?

Then I sensed movement next to me. My gaze turned to the man resting on the bed. It truly was him.

Mr. Valenti?

Mr. Valenti lay sprawled on the king-size bed I had woken up on. He was peacefully sleeping on his stomach, his face turned to the side with his arms and legs resting upwards.

The blanket covering us draped over his buttocks. His back, thighs, and legs were completely bare. Oh God... He’s naked!

My God, did I really sleep with my boss? I felt a wave of fear and embarrassment wash over me. What have I done?

My first instinct was to flee, and in that moment, I got out of bed, only to accidentally knock over a glass vase with my foot. The sound of the vase shattering echoed loudly throughout the room.

Mr. Valenti shifted and removed the blanket from his hips.

"Holy s**t! What do you think you’re doing?" Mr. Valenti shot me an angry glare. His voice struck me like a whip.

I was frozen in place. My entire body felt numb and shook with fear. Oh God! I was so foolish. I thought he was completely naked. Instead, he was wearing white boxer shorts.

"I’m so sorry." I choked back the sob that threatened to escape and knelt down to tidy up the mess. This vase must surely be worth a fortune. How am I going to cover the cost of this?

I gathered the shattered pieces of glass.

"For heaven's sake, don’t touch that!" His voice escalated, causing me to jump in fear. I let go of the broken glass and quickly stood up.

I shut my eyes, gripped by terror, picturing the dreadful things Mr. Valenti might do as he drew closer. Then I felt his hands lifting mine. I opened my eyes instantly and saw him examining my foot.

"Look what you’ve done; you’ve cut yourself." His tone was harsh, lacking any compassion.

Oh no! My fingers were bleeding, and I could now feel a sharp, tingling pain.

Panic set in. I despised blood. It brought back memories of my mom, every time she underwent a blood transfusion.

I’m feeling lightheaded; I think I’m going to faint.

"Come here." He pulled me into the bathroom and turned on the faucet. As the water flowed over my wounds, he started to lecture me.

"Why are you so reckless? Haven't your parents told you not to handle broken glass? You must never touch broken glass again! I hope you take this lesson to heart?"

Blah....Blah....Blah.... He continued to rant as if he were my mother. He led me back to the bedroom and made me sit on the king-sized bed.

He stepped out of the bedroom to fetch something, leaving me to gaze at the modern and masculine decor of the spacious room, which was predominantly white. The floor-to-ceiling glass windows offered a stunning view of our city.

Mr. Valenti walked into the room carrying cotton, plaster, gauze, and Neosporin. I took a deep breath as he knelt down in front of me and grasped my hands. He gently cleaned my hands with a paper towel.

"Um... we didn’t do anything last night, did we?" I inquired quietly.

"Nothing occurred. I would never exploit you without your consent."

I felt a wave of relief wash over me at his words and stayed quiet while he tended to my wounds. My heart raced, and a shiver coursed through my veins. The sharp pain from the cuts on my fingers transformed into a delightful tingling, like a million tiny electric shocks dancing across my body.

His touch felt strangely gentle and soothing against my fingers as he tended to my wounds and applied the band-aids. Throughout the process, I couldn't help but admire his striking looks: he appeared even more incredibly masculine without his clothes, undeniably male and irresistibly attractive.

I let out a breath of relief when he finally finished applying the band-aids to my cuts. Just as I was about to rise, his hand gripped my thighs.

I gasped, a wave of panic washing over me. "No, please... don't."