Last Regret: Goodbye to my cheating ex

Chapter 2

Carlos POV

The biggest problem with being rich? You never really know anyone's true intentions. Everyone wants to be your friend, your lover, your "soulmate"—but most of the time, it's not you they're after. It’s the lifestyle. The status. The money.

Especially women. They see dollar signs when they look at me. My looks? Just a bonus to sweeten the deal. Honestly, I doubt they'd even glance at me if I were broke, bald, and had a waistline bigger than my height.

The only person I fully trust is Antonio Romano. We’ve been best friends since diapers. He’s just as wealthy as I am, so I never have to wonder what he’s getting out of our friendship. He’ll call me out when I’m being an ass, and I respect that.

People are always shocked that I’m still single. But it’s not like I haven’t had options. Hell, I’ve had more than my share of women trying to trap me—gold diggers dressed up as girlfriends. I’ve been burned enough to know better.

So yeah, I’ve made the decision to stay 100% single. I’m done playing the game of "does she want me or my money?" These days, I only want one thing from a woman: to take the edge off. No names, no attachments, no risk of ending up in some tabloid scandal.

I’ve been at Antonio’s family ski resort for the past few days, just kicking back. It’s been a much-needed break, and it’s always good catching up with the Romanos. Everyone’s disappointed Chiara couldn’t make it this year. I haven’t seen her in five, maybe more.

She always has something going on—first it was university, then work. I respect her hustle. Even though she owns the company now, she started from the bottom and insisted on working her way up. That takes guts.

Now there’s the boyfriend—or rather, ex. They never liked the guy. Can’t blame them. The dude had the audacity to propose without even meeting her father. Total disrespect. But it’s her first boyfriend, ever. Not first serious one—first ever. Chiara’s sweet and always sees the best in people. Being on the heavier side when she was younger didn’t help either; she didn’t have many guys chasing her back then.

I remember she had a crush on me once, back when I was a scrawny nerd with glasses. I think she liked me just because I was nice to her, not because she was genuinely into me. Antonio asked me to let her down gently so she wouldn’t get too carried away. I did, but I kind of missed her after that. She kept her distance, probably out of embarrassment. She was a good kid—smart, too. At least she could hold a conversation, unlike most girls I knew.

Not that conversation was a priority when I was a horny teen. Back then, all I cared about was looks and how fast I could get laid. Business talk? Politics? Who cared?

Anyway, I should be with my parents right now—it’s Christmas Eve—but instead, I’m in the bar. I haven’t gotten laid in a while, and I figure I’ll be able to tolerate my mom nagging about grandkids a lot easier with a fresh memory of a good night.

There wasn’t much to look at here until she walked in—this stunning brunette. She sat at the bar, ordered a strong drink, and instantly caught my attention. She looked like she belonged in a painting. I figured she must be waiting for someone, so I just watched her for a while.

After an hour or so, I took my chance. It was obvious she was drinking to forget something—breakup, maybe? Or just lonely for the holidays. Either way, she was alone, and that worked in my favor.

I bought her another of whatever she was having and went over. She was smart, funny, and absolutely breathtaking. We talked, laughed, and before long, we were tangled in her sheets.

Her body was unreal—flat stomach, full breasts, those curves… and her skin, warm bronze, flawless. I wanted to taste every inch of her, and I did. She tasted even better than she looked. I could have spent the entire night between her thighs.

She gave me the best damn head I’ve ever had, no exaggeration. I thought she must’ve been experienced, but when I finally slid into her, she was so tight I nearly lost it. Quiet learner, I guess. Or maybe I just got lucky.

She moved like sin incarnate, her body flowing like it was made for mine. We went at it like animals. Once wasn’t enough. Hell, five times wasn’t enough. I lost count.

She fell asleep draped across me, and for a split second, I actually considered staying. But I slipped out before dawn like a thief in the night.

Even my mom’s guilt trips couldn’t wipe the smirk off my face the next morning. Being an only child, I get all the pressure about settling down. She wants grandkids. My dad? He’s threatening to withhold part of my inheritance unless I marry and have a family—says it makes me look more stable as a businessman.

It’s all BS. If I marry for appearances, that doesn’t make me trustworthy—it makes me a liar.

So I just smiled and nodded until they changed the subject. Maybe I’ll find someone to fake it with. Get them off my back for a while.

I’m leaving the day after Christmas. Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents—we’re close. If I could find someone like my mom, I’d jump on the marriage train in a heartbeat. She and my dad built everything from scratch, and I admire that.

But women like her? Rare. I won’t let some gold digger waltz in and blow through my family’s fortune like it's Monopoly money. I want someone real. Honest. Independent.

Until then, I’m good on my own.

Still… I can’t get that damn goddess out of my head. It’s like she’s branded herself into my brain. I keep replaying everything we did, and I’m so worked up, I need to find someone else—quick—just to shake her out of my system.