The CEO'S Forgotten Promise

Chapter 23

Emily Madrigo

The hotel room still carried the heavy scent of s*x and cheap cologne when I stepped out of the shower, steam clinging to the mirror in thick clouds and making everything feel slightly unreal, like I was moving through someone else’s life rather than my own.

My hair dripped cold water down my back in slow, steady drops, and the towel I’d wrapped around myself felt too thin, too temporary, as though it could slip away at any moment and leave me exposed in every way that mattered.

I reached for my phone on the nightstand because it wouldn’t stop buzzing, the vibration rattling against the wood like an impatient warning I couldn’t ignore any longer.

I saw the unknown number and felt the first real twist of fear in my stomach, the kind that settles deep and stays, but I answered anyway, pressing the phone to my ear with a hand that was already beginning to tremble.

“Emily,” Jax said, his voice rough and low, carrying the same edge it had when he’d had me pressed against the wall thirty minutes earlier, growling my name while he took what he wanted. “You didn’t really think I’d let you walk out of here without talking business, did you?”

I sat down on the edge of the bed slowly, the towel slipping a little across my chest, and I didn’t bother fixing it because what did modesty matter now. “What do you want, Jax?” I asked, trying to keep my tone even, trying to sound like I still had control even though we both knew I didn’t.

He laughed, the kind of laugh that made my skin crawl even after everything we’d just done together. “Money. A lot of it. You’ve been living in that big house with Tom McCarthy for days now, playing the perfect little girlfriend, sleeping in his bed, spending his money. Time to share the wealth, sweetheart.”

My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought he could hear it through the phone. “I’m working on it,” I said, forcing the words out calmly even though my pulse was roaring in my ears. “He already gave me his card. I’ll—”

“Card?” he interrupted, voice turning sharp and mocking. “I don’t want a f*****g card. I want cash. Fifty grand. Real cash. In my hand. By next week. Or I start sending things.”

I closed my eyes and felt the room tilt slightly. “What things?”

“Everything,” he said slowly, drawing the word out like he was savoring it. “Every picture I took. Every video. Every text where you laughed about how easy it was to play Tom. Every time you moaned my name while you were supposed to be loyal to him. One click, Emily. One click and it all goes to him. To his family. To the press. To everyone who thinks you’re some perfect little trophy girlfriend.”

My hand shook so badly I almost dropped the phone. He had it all. He’d filmed us. Saved every message. Every video. Every humiliating, thrilling second. I had thought he was just some fun side piece I could drop when I got bored, someone to use and forget. I had been so wrong.

“How much again?” I whispered, voice barely audible even to me.

“Fifty thousand dollars. Cash. No excuses. No games.”

I laughed...cold, bitter, almost a sob that caught in my throat. “You’re insane. I don’t have that kind of money lying around.”

“Then get it from him,” Jax said, voice dropping lower, more intimate, like he was whispering right against my ear again. “You’re good at getting what you want. Cry a little. f**k him harder. Spread your legs and beg if you have to. Do whatever it takes. But get me the money. Or I send everything.”

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.

My pulse was so loud I could hear it thundering in my ears.

I thought about Tom—about the way he looked at me like I was his prize, about the black Amex he’d tossed at me yesterday like I was a child getting pocket money, about Sara still in the house, still breathing his air, still thinking she had any chance left at all.

I hated sharing. I hated losing. And I never lost.

“Fine,” I said quietly, forcing the word out past the lump in my throat. “I’ll get it.”

“Good girl.” He sounded pleased, satisfied, like he’d already won. “And Emily? Don’t try anything stupid. I know where you sleep. I know where he sleeps. Tick tock.”

The call ended.

I stared at the phone for a long time, chest rising and falling too fast, the room spinning slowly around me.

Then I laughed...feeling broken, angry and the sound echoing off the walls like it belonged to someone else.

I’d lied to Tom about that “emergency call” earlier. Told him I had to run out for something urgent. Really I’d come here. Let Jax take me hard against the wall while I thought about the money I’d get from Tom’s card later. Let him think he owned me for an hour.

Now he did. I opened my purse with trembling fingers. Pulled out the black Amex Tom had tossed at me yesterday.

Stared at it. Then I texted Jax the card number.

*Use this. Buy whatever you want. Just don’t max it out yet. I’ll get the cash from Tom. Promise.*

His reply came fast.

*Smart girl. But I want more than plastic. I want you on your knees again. Soon.*

I stared at the message.

My body reacted before my mind could catch up—heat low in my stomach, thighs pressing together involuntarily.

I hated him. I hated that he had this power over me.

But I also hated how much I wanted to feel that power again, how much I wanted the rush, the danger, the way he made me feel alive in a way Tom never could.

I stood up slowly. Let the towel drop to the floor.

Walked to the mirror. Looked at myself—naked, wet hair clinging to my shoulders, red marks on my hips from Jax’s fingers, lips still swollen from earlier.

I smiled at my reflection.. Sara would pay more. Because she was still in the way.

I walked back to the bed. Picked up my phone again. Opened the camera.

Took a photo of myself...naked, smirking, one hand between my legs just enough to tease.

Sent it to Jax.

*Something to keep you busy until I get your cash.*

His reply came almost instantly.

*f**k. You’re dangerous.*

I smiled wider.

'Yes.'

Yes I was.