MARRIED TO MY ENEMY

ONE ROOM LEFT

**CHAPTER 3: ONE ROOM LEFT**

The taxi finally stops in front of a hotel.

It's well past midnight. The driver takes my cash and drives off fast without saying anything.

I stand there alone with my pink suitcase. The street is quiet. I can hear the ocean somewhere close and frogs making noise in the dark.

The hotel is beautiful. It's not like the big glass towers in Milan. It's low and white with a dark wood roof. There are big open windows everywhere and warm yellow lights inside. Tall palm trees line the driveway. There are stone statues with flowers around their necks.

It smells amazing out here. Like salt water and sweet flowers and something burning that smells like incense.

I found this place myself. In Singapore, during my layover, I used a computer at the airport and booked it under Sophia Santos. I paid with the cash Chloe gave me. I picked it because the pictures looked quiet. No big pool parties. No DJs. Just rooms facing the ocean.

I didn't tell Chloe the name. I didn't tell her the country. If my dad finds her, she can honestly say she doesn't know.

I pull my suitcase up the stone steps. The front doors are made of dark wood and glass. They slide open by themselves and cold air hits my face.

Inside is even prettier. The lobby is open on one side to the outside. There's no glass wall, just the night air coming in. The floor is dark shiny wood. There are big white couches with blue pillows. Huge plants in pots everywhere.

It smells like jasmine and lemons. Soft music is playing, like guitars. Behind the front desk there's a big wall of blue and gold tiles that looks like waves.

There are staff in soft grey uniforms. They smile at me even though it's midnight and I look terrible.

For the first time in two days I feel like I can breathe a little.

A girl is behind the white stone desk. She's young, maybe twenty-five. She has her hair in a neat ponytail.

"Hi," I say. My voice is hoarse.

"Welcome to Blueview, miss," she says. She has a kind smile.

"I have a reservation. Under Sophia Santos."

I try the name again. Sophia. It still feels fake.

She starts typing on her computer. Her fingers are fast. Then the big wooden doors behind me slide open again and warm night air rushes in.

A man walks in fast, pulling a black suitcase behind him.

It's him.

Airport guy.

He walks right up to the desk and stands next to me. He doesn't even look at me. Like I'm invisible.

"Good evening," he says to the girl. His voice is deep and tired.

My mouth drops open. "Are you following me?"

He finally turns his head and looks at me. First he's surprised, then he just looks annoyed. Like I'm a problem he thought he left at the airport.

"Why would I follow you?" he asks.

"You tell me," I say. My voice is too loud in the quiet lobby. A staff member looks over. "It's a simple question."

He sighs. It's a long sigh, like I'm exhausting. "What is there to follow?"

"What do you mean what is there to follow?" I put my hands on my hips. "I'm—" I stop. I almost say I'm a Bianchi. I can't say that name here. Ever.

He turns to face me. He still has the same wrinkled white shirt from the plane. His sleeves are pushed up. He looks tired but his green eyes are sharp.

"Let me be clear," he says slowly. "Why would I need to follow a spoiled brat who looks lost? Does this hotel belong to your daddy or can other people check in too?"

"Ma'am, sir, please," the girl behind the desk says. Her eyes are wide. She looks scared.

"For all I know you're a serial killer!" I point at his chest. My finger is shaking. I'm running on no sleep and pure adrenaline.

"And for all I know you're a princess who's never heard the word no," he says back. "I have a reservation too." He looks at the girl. "Diego Salvatore."

So he has a name. Diego. It sounds too nice for him.

"I was here first," I snap at the girl. "Help me first. Sophia Santos."

She types faster. Then she stops. She bites her lip and looks down.

"Um... we have a problem," she says quietly.

"What problem?" I ask. My feet hurt so bad. My cheap sandals are giving me blisters. I just want a bed and a shower.

"The rooms you both booked... they were given away," she says. She won't meet my eyes. "There was a mistake in our system. I'm so, so sorry."

"What?" I step closer to the desk. Diego turns too. Now he looks just as mad as me. "You gave our rooms away?"

"I'm sorry ma'am..."

"You're sorry?" My voice echoes off the high ceiling. "You gave away my room and that's all you have to say?"

"Please don't shout," she whispers. She looks like she's going to cry.

"I will shout! Do you know who I—" I stop myself again. I can't say it. So I lie. "I'm a travel blogger! A big one! When I post about this you'll be closed down!"

I look at Diego. He's just standing there with his arms crossed, watching me like I'm entertainment. Is he not mad his room is gone too?

The girl looks terrified. "Please, I'll get my manager."

A few minutes later a woman in a black blazer walks out from a back office. She looks calm and put together. Her dark hair is in a perfect bun.

"Good evening. I'm Elena, the manager. I understand there's an issue?"

I tell her again, fast. She listens and nods. She doesn't even blink when I say blogger.

"I'm so sorry. This is not acceptable. Let me see what I can do." She sits down and types quickly. Diego and I stand there in silence. My legs are shaking I'm so tired. There's a beautiful couch right there but I'm too angry to sit. I don't want to look weak in front of him.

After a minute she sighs. "Okay. I have good news and bad news."

"Just tell us," Diego says. His voice is low.

"The good news is, I found you a room," she says. "The bad news is... it's only one room. Our very last one."

My stomach drops to the floor. "What do you mean?"

"Until tomorrow morning, you would have to share the suite."

"No!" Diego and I say at the exact same time. We look at each other, surprised.

"Give me the room," I say fast. "I got here first!"

"My reservation was messed up too," he argues. "I'll take it."

"It's mine!"

"No, it's mine!"

"Please!" Elena holds up both hands. "This is all we have tonight. Just for one night. Please share. Tomorrow we will have another room."

"No! I won't do it!" I point at Diego. "He's been following me since the airport! What if he's dangerous?"

"What if she's a thief?" he says, pointing back at me. "She probably wants to steal my stuff."

"Do I look like a thief?" I gasp.

"Do I look like a stalker?" he shoots back. He raises one eyebrow.

Elena looks exhausted. "Please. The room is our Oceanview Suite. It's our best one. It's complimentary for tonight because of the mistake. It has a full kitchen, a private balcony, a heated plunge pool, a gym. Please."

I'm so tired I feel tears in my eyes. I blink them away fast. I will not cry in front of him. I sigh loudly. "Fine."

Diego mumbles "fine" too. He looks just as unhappy as I feel.

"Let's just see it," I say.

The young girl takes us up in the elevator. We ride up in total silence. Just the three of us watching the numbers light up. It's the most awkward elevator ride of my life. I can feel him standing next to me, not looking at me, his arm almost touching mine.

She opens the door at the end of the top floor hallway. "Here's the Oceanview Suite."

I walk in and for one second I forget I'm angry. The living room is huge and open. There's a big cream-colored couch that looks so soft. A fireplace built into the wall. A huge TV. The whole back wall is glass doors that are open to the night air. I can see the ocean right there, black and silver under the moon. I can hear the waves.

The girl talks fast as she walks through. "Full kitchen here, with credit for groceries from our market. Private gym through this door. Heated plunge pool on the balcony, just outside."

It's stunning. If I wasn't about to share it with my worst enemy, I would love it here.

"And," she says, walking to the other side of the room, her voice getting quieter, "one bedroom and one bathroom, right through here."

"What?" My head snaps toward the bedroom door. I can see the corner of a huge white bed through the doorway. One bed.

Before I can even open my mouth to argue, she looks terrified, backs out of the suite fast, and pulls the door shut behind her.

Click.

The lock beeps green.

She's gone.

It's just me and Diego standing alone in this beautiful, expensive suite.

With one bed.

And nothing but the sound of the ocean and each other's breathing between us.