The Contract: My Hidden Billionaire Husband

Chapter 3

Her Cinderella

Someone pounded on the door. He ran his fingers through his hair, eyes blinking open. His head throbbed painfully.

Memories flooded back—meeting Candy Weber at the bar, the beers, the endless conversation, her infectious laugh, and the taxi ride. He became aware of his nakedness and pulled the sheets aside to check, finding himself devoid of any clothing except for the sheet covering his semi-erect p***s.

Quickly, he covered himself again, feeling something on his right leg. He reached under the sheet and found... a bra? It belonged to Candy. He remembered everything now—they had gone to the bedroom together, she had gone to the bathroom, and he had fallen asleep. But he had done everything with her, except sleep. Shocked, he brought both hands to his head, accidentally placing the bra on his face before tossing it away. The knocking on the door persisted. He had slept with a married woman.

"Not again!" His mind screamed. He knew the previous night had been a mistake, but alcohol had clouded his judgment.

"Open up, you son of a b***h! I know you're in there!" He recognized the voice as Candy's husband. Despite his pounding head and the shouting outside, he reluctantly got out of bed, his member still aching for more.

"What are you staring at?!" he muttered to himself, trying to ignore his body's response. He grabbed some clothes from his suitcase and approached the peephole, observing Candy's angry husband, who seemed ready to break down the door.

On his way to the bathroom, he noticed Candy's bra on the floor. Picking it up, he felt a surge of desire but resisted, tossing it onto the bed. Now was not the time for arousal. He checked the bathroom, finding it empty. He took a calming shower, trying to ignore the screams outside, letting the water wash away his anxiety.

When he emerged from the bathroom, the screaming had ceased, and an eerie silence enveloped the air. How could he know if Candy was still around? Had she left the hotel? Or was she still in the country? She had packed her suitcase, but the bra remained on the bed. He couldn't just leave it there, but taking it with him wasn't a wise choice either.

Dragging his suitcase towards the door, his travel companions awaited him to depart for the airport. He glanced back at the bra, then made a decision. Placing the suitcase on the bed, he carefully laid the bra inside. Leaving it behind was not an option.

As he exited his room, a robust blonde man appeared out of nowhere, delivering a powerful punch to Alaric's face. The force sent him stumbling, dropping his suitcase, his face throbbing with pain from the unexpected blow. It was then he remembered his brother's advice: "Always strike first. Don’t let your opponent lay a finger on you."

Chuckling to himself, he imagined how his brother would handle the situation. The blow had caught him off guard, a consequence of his own overconfidence and negligence. Rick, convinced that Alaric was the man his wife had spent the night with, attacked him as soon as he emerged from the room. He had never seen it, it was the first time he had seen that face. Confirming that Candy slept with the first stranger she met, that's what he thought.

"I'll teach you not to touch what's mine!" Rick bellowed, preparing for another attack. This time, Alaric was ready. He dodged Rick's second lunge, his mind racing. To preserve Rick's pride and avoid further confrontation, he feigned ignorance. Sleeping with another man's wife, especially on her honeymoon, was a grave offense, one he would never have committed if he hadn't been so intoxicated.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied calmly, trying to defuse the situation. Rick insisted he had seen Candy leave the room earlier, a lie intended to extract information from Alaric. Threatening to search every room until he found the man who had slept with his wife, Rick left Alaric with two choices: fight or flee. The latter was out of the question.

Undoing the first few buttons of his shirt, Alaric tested the fabric's flexibility. He assumed a fighting stance, ready to defend himself against Rick's accusations.

"But Alaric!" His friends exclaimed. "The taxi is waiting for us!"

Two colleagues arrived at the door of his room. It was the agreed-upon time, yet Alaric had not appeared. With his phone silent, they decided to go up and look for him.

"What's going on here?" one of them asked, noting the bruise on the right side of Alaric's face and the tense atmosphere.

"Nothing," Alaric replied. "Isn't that right?"

Rick looked around. There were now two of them, not just one, and he had witnessed the altercation.

"Nothing," he echoed.

He watched as Alaric left with his companions. But he already knew that man's face. Alaric Jackson, that was his name.

He had sworn never to sleep with another woman other than his partner again. But that's not what had happened in that hotel room. His body had betrayed him, responding to Candy's caresses, eager to please her. He had slept with Candy Weber, and he didn't even know why. Was it the alcohol? Or was he truly attracted to her? He had wanted a relationship, not a one-night stand. His goal was a committed partnership, but the right woman hadn't appeared, and she certainly wouldn't if he kept frequenting bars.

"I'm not like that," he insisted during a call with his younger brother, David Jackson. "But I don't know what happened. We had seen each other before, during the flight. We hardly spoke. I just wanted to take her to her room, but she convinced me to drink with her, saying she'd find someone else if I didn't. Do you believe me if I tell you I had no intention of sleeping with her?"

"I believe you, but Alaric, your body becomes weak if you go so long without s*x. Denying yourself only leads to trouble."

"I just want a partner!"

"Then stop frequenting bars where women throw themselves at you, and your 'weak' body won't betray you."

"That's not how it happened! Didn't you listen? She was newly married. I slept with another man's wife. I'm starting to believe Liliana was right. What if deep down I don't want a commitment? What if I'm the one sabotaging myself?"

"Stop talking nonsense. If she slept with you, that marriage may have been on the rocks before she came to your room. Don't you dare torture yourself with that."

"Another night of meaningless s*x," he lamented.

"Look for her. They might have things in common, don't you think? She just disappeared. Look for Candy Weber; you know her name, Asher must know her too. You are one step away. If you really don't want that night to be a mess, you have the opportunity to do things right."

He felt fear, doubts, and didn't respond to his brother's words. She was a married woman, with a very angry husband. He was dying of shame, and he was sure she was too.

"If she disappeared like that, leaving the room before I woke up, it's a clear sign that she's not looking for anything else."

"I'm starting to think that women use you and that's it," his brother remarked.

Alaric snorted, already thinking the same thing himself. He changed the subject, feeling used by Candy Weber. She had been angry with her husband, and he was the man she chose to spend the night with. He didn't like feeling used. He hadn't meant to look for it. She also knew his name and how to find him. His Cinderella had only left a bra, but he wouldn't go after her.