St. BARKS SUITE
1686 Words
Staring at the note one last time, I tucked it into my apron before switching on the vacuum machine.
Its loud hum echoed throughout the entire room, helping me to shut off the chaotic voices in my head. Matthew had left earlier in the evening to meet with Leo and Mr. Sterling to discuss some business.
That is the only reason I am currently cleaning the house at ten o'clock at night. I was trying everything I could to calm my anxiety over whatever trap Sterling might be planning next.
It had been two days.
Two full days of agonizing over the easiest way to come clean to Matthew.
Serge had told me to come clean or he would, and I realized the best possible way out of this nightmare was for me to tell my husband the truth myself.
But why did I feel like Serge already held the upper hand here? Yesterday, Matthew had received a call from Serge asking if they could talk over coffee along with Leo about a business opportunity. Of course, Matthew was absolutely thrilled.
I, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to wash the sheer horror off my face when Mat told me about the meeting.
Sighing, I turned off the vacuum, pinching the bridge of my nose. I couldn’t help but imagine the worst coming from that meeting.
I was fully intending to come clean within these next few days; he had absolutely no right to destroy my life and my marriage before I could at least try to fix it.
Pulling my apron off, I threw it onto the chair before reaching for my phone. I dialed Matthew's number, but it went straight to voicemail. I dialed a second time, only to get the exact same response.
Biting my lower lip, I reached back into my apron and pulled out Serge's business card, flipping it over to view the handwritten text before punching the digits into my dial pad. With one last deep breath, I pressed the call button and placed the phone to my ear, waiting anxiously as it began to ring.
A single second felt like a full, agonizing minute while the line rang. I couldn't stop myself from biting my nails in pure nervousness.
Please pick up, please...
“Hello?”
My breath hitched. An oddly familiar, deep masculine voice sounded on the other end of the line.
“Mr. Serge Sterling’s phone. Who is this, please?” he continued.
I pulled the phone away from my ear in utter shock
Matthew?
What in the world was he doing answering Serge’s phone?
Quickly, I disconnected the call before he could notice my caller ID on the screen. Placing the phone face down on the counter, a violent wave of panic and intense nausea shot straight through my entire body. Suddenly feeling completely sick, I bolted to the bathroom.
I flung the toilet seat up faster than I thought possible before violently throwing up my entire dinner I had eaten earlier today.
Sitting back on my heels, I heaved a little more before finally forcing myself up to wash out my mouth, looking at my reflection in the mirror, I couldn't help but let out a bitter, hollow laugh at the girl staring back at me.
The girl who had completely ruined everything she had ever worked toward and believed in, all because of one reckless night of relentless passion.
I had to fix this.
Serge knew exactly what games he was playing, but he was going to have to get through me first.
With a new, fierce sense of confidence from my reflection, I headed into the bedroom and pulled out a stunning red satin dress.
It stopped right above the knees and featured a daring, low cut open back. I had bought it as a small gift to myself from my paycheck two months ago, though I never actually believed I would have the courage to wear it.
Slipping it on, the satin flowed against my body like a second skin, perfectly catching the curve of my wide hips and accentuating my slim legs.
I paired it with black stilettos and a small red clutch bag.
Pulling my hair out of its messy ponytail, I quickly curled the strands into thick, bouncy waves, adding a light layer of spray to make it shine under the lights.
I applied a bold, thick layer of crimson lipstick before looking at my transformed self in the mirror. I wasn't usually one for makeup, so I didn't own much apart from a few lip products.
Rising up onto my tiptoes, I reached for the expensive bottle of Hermes perfume I had bought and hidden away from Matthew. It was reserved strictly for special occasions, and tonight definitely felt like one.
Satisfied with the look, I headed back to the kitchen and grabbed my phone, ignoring the small, sharp pains radiating through my stomach.
I opened the Find My Hubby tracking app and waited anxiously while the GPS signal located Matthew’s phone.
...St. Barks’ Suites and Hotel...
I smiled in silent victory before ordering an Uber.
It didn’t take long for the car to arrive, and we headed straight for St. Barks.
Soon, a massive, gleaming seven story luxury building came into view. The glowing gold neon sign displaying the words ST. BARKS’ SUITES AND HOTEL confirmed that I was in the exact right location. I paid the driver before quickly stepping out of the cab into the cool night air.
There were multiple luxury vehicles rolling up to the entrance with a team of valets handling each one.
The men stepping out of the passenger seats each had a beautiful, elegant women draped on their arms, dripping in melodious dinner dresses and carrying exotic designer handbags, their expensive perfumes catching the wind so strongly I could smell them from across the pavement.
Standing in front of this magnificent building reminded me of all the reasons Matthew shouldn’t be here. Why I shouldn’t be here.
Places like this were reserved strictly for the tycoons of the city, the elite financial advisors, senators, prime ministers, and foreign ambassadors. They were places for people whose middle names carried more social weight and respect than a room full of average people, places for men who never had to worry about outstanding bills or meticulously budget for a monthly paycheck.
I took a deep, steadying breath, chanted a silent mantra of encouragement in my head, squared my shoulders, and walked directly toward the grand entrance.
To my surprise, the front host politely asked for my coat and inquired where I was heading.
“The... um... Sterling party. I am here to see Serge Sterling.” I didn’t know what else to say, and his name was the very first thing that flew out of my mouth.
“Is he expecting you, ma'am?” the host asked politely.
“Ah... yes. He is.” No, he absolutely wasn't.
“One minute, ma’am, let me confirm that with his floor shortly.”
“There is no need for that. I was expecting her.” A deep, commanding voice cut through the air
directly in front of us, making me freeze instantly.
Serge Sterling was standing a few feet away in all his intimidating glory.
He was wearing a flawless black tuxedo with a crisp white dress shirt and a matching black silk tie. His jawline looked neatly shaved, and his dark hair was carefully combed back.
He looked... absolutely ravishing.
Clearing my throat, I tried to hide my surprise in front of the hotel host as I walked up to him, extending my hand in a formal greeting gesture to keep up appearance.
“We are well past that, don’t you think?” Serge murmured, tilting one dark eyebrow up as his eyes scanned my red dress.
Ignoring the sudden, violent backflip my stomach just performed, I got straight to business. “How did you know I would be here?”
“You called me,” he retorted smoothly. Without warning, he pushed his large hand around my waist and pulled my body flush into his.
I let out a sharp gasp, shock flooding my entire system. Was he completely out of his mind? What if Matthew saw us standing like this?
He bends his head down to my ear, his breath hot against my skin and whispers,
“How about we give your sweet husband a little show?”
Ready to give him a piece of my mind, I violently pushed his hand off my waist and stepped aside.
“You must be completely insane. Where is my husband?”
He let out a low chuckle that quickly hardened into a grit of his teeth, before I could react, he grabbed my hand firmly and began leading me down a long, red painted hallway.
“What do you think you're doing?” I whisper yelled at him, desperately trying not to attract the attention of the passing wealthy guests.
He just let out a low grunt in response, keeping his long stride until he came to a complete stop near a wide opening.
“What is the meaning of all this, Mr. Sterling? Can you please let go of me?” I asked, completely irritated by his cruel games.
Without a word of warning, he grabbed my waist again and turned my body toward the large hall room directly opposite us.
We were standing in a dimly lit corridor, but the adjoining room was a bright, vibrant casino filled with exotic men playing various table games.
My breath caught completely in my throat when my gaze locked onto a familiar mop of messy brown hair near the center table.
Matthew.
He was actively betting and drinking, with Leo laughing right by his side. They seemed to be having the absolute time of their lives, completely oblivious to the world.
Slowly, Mr. Sterling lowered his mouth back down to my ear, his large hand around my waist tightening.
“For my silence, pleasure me. Right here. Right now. In front of your man.”
- Writer
