The Betrayal
700 Words
The lights from the chandelier flickered above, casting soft golden glows across the ballroom. But Ariana Blake stood frozen, the air sucked from her lungs as if someone had punched her in the chest.
She wasn’t supposed to be here.
She wasn’t supposed to see this.
But there they were—her boyfriend of two years, Daniel, and her sister, Tasha, kissing in the shadows like lovers in a cheap romance movie.
Her heart cracked, then shattered in one silent blow.
Ariana clutched the invitation tighter in her hand. This was meant to be her night. Daniel had told her to dress nice, to meet him here for a “surprise.” Her older sister, Tasha, had even helped her pick out the dress. A soft wine-red satin gown that now felt like a costume in a cruel joke.
They hadn’t seen her yet.
Tasha laughed softly, her hand caressing Daniel’s face like it belonged there.
Ariana stumbled back, the sound of her heels against the marble floor echoing too loudly. Daniel turned at the noise, his eyes meeting hers—wide, shocked, guilty.
"Ari… wait—"
But she didn’t wait. She ran.
Out the ballroom. Down the long corridor. Past curious guests and staff.
Her vision blurred, mascara bleeding into tears.
The streets of Manhattan buzzed with life, but Ariana felt numb. She didn’t know where she was going—just that she needed to escape. She hailed the first cab she saw.
“Anywhere. Just drive.”
The cabbie raised a brow but nodded, pulling away from the curb. She leaned her head against the window, watching the lights blur by. She needed a distraction, a reset, anything but the image of them together.
Her phone buzzed.
Tasha: Please don’t make this a big deal. You and Daniel were going to break up anyway.
Ariana’s hand trembled. The nerve.
She silenced the phone and tossed it in her purse.
The taxi stopped in front of a glowing hotel—the Carter Grand. One of the most luxurious spots in New York City.
“I… didn’t tell you to stop here,” she murmured.
“I didn’t. The guy ahead paid for you. Said you looked like you needed a better night.”
“What?”
She looked up. A tall, suited man stepped away from a black car nearby. Hands in his pockets, jaw sharp, eyes hidden behind dark lashes. He didn’t look at her long—just a slight nod before walking through the revolving glass doors.
Curious.
Confused.
Broken.
She followed.
Inside the penthouse lounge, Ariana sat at the bar, drink in hand. Just one glass. That’s all she needed. Maybe two.
The stranger sat a few stools away. He hadn’t spoken to her. But he’d noticed her. The way his eyes kept shifting. The way he ordered the same drink after her. Something about him was magnetic. Comforting in a dangerous way.
“I don’t normally do this,” she said softly, not sure why she was even speaking.
He glanced at her. His voice was low and smooth. “Neither do I.”
She smiled bitterly. “What’s your excuse?”
He swirled his drink. “Long week. Bad decisions. People I don’t trust.”
Ariana raised her glass. “To bad decisions.”
He clinked it gently with his. “To unexpected nights.”
The morning sun peeked through the curtain. Ariana groaned softly, her head pounding as if her thoughts were caught between reality and dreams.
Then she froze.
She wasn’t in her bed.
She wasn’t even in her apartment.
And she wasn’t alone.
The man beside her stirred slightly, his bare chest rising and falling in rhythmic calm. His face was turned away, but she recognized the jawline—the voice.
Her heart dropped.
What did she do?
She slipped out of the sheets quietly, grabbing her clutch and shoes with shaking hands.
But as she reached the door, she turned for one last glance…
…and saw his face clearly.
Liam Carter.
CEO of Carter Enterprises.
“Mr. Handsome,” as they called him in magazines.
And now, the man she'd just spent a night with—completely by accident.
- Writer
