Chapter three
925 Words
He looked at her with intense admiration, his gaze following every subtle movement as she lay in bed, her bare arms exposed, the duvet the only shield covering her from chest to legs.
She was so beautiful, he thought, still staring.
Her eyes slowly opened, and for a brief moment, they met his. Guilt clouded her face when she realized he had been watching her.
Alyssa rose slowly from the bed, clutching the duvet to her bare chest, her head slightly bent. Without looking at him, she said, “Look, this never happened……okay?”
He laughed aloud, almost choking.
“Oh….really? Last night meant nothing to you?” He ridiculed, drawing closer to her. She stopped him, holding up a hand.
“This is just a one-night stand, okay?” She said, rising fully, dragging the duvet with her as she scanned the hotel room for her clothes.
He watched her leave. She slammed the door shut with a force that left the room feeling heavy. A grin spread across his face as he waved his hand in the air, giving her a mock farewell.
Alyssa walked quickly toward her car, her pace quickening with each step. She pulled her phone from her purse, and as soon as she did, it buzzed - Robert's name flashing on the screen.
Her eyes scanned the message he had sent.
“So, you now spend the night sleeping around? You're so pathetic Alyssa!”
As she gazed at the text, something within her stirred - a fleeting sense of joy. He suddenly cared, or perhaps it was just the domineering billionaire in him at play. But that brief spark of happiness quickly soured, replaced by resentment. Who did he think he was, sending her a message like that? He didn't own her. Why would he believe he could just act as he pleased? He couldn't have it both ways.
With a sharp motion, she slammed the car door shut. Her head fell against the steering wheel, her hair spilling across its surface in defeat. She breathed heavily. The events of last night replayed in her mind. No, this wasn't happening. She hadn't just slept with a stranger she met at the bar, had she? Her heart skipped a beat. Wait a minute - did she use protection?
She ransacked her memory for an answer, but it was a blur. She remembered nothing. Absolutely nothing.
She pressed her forehead into her palm, pounding it gently in frustration.
Robert sat at the kitchen in their large apartment, absorbed in his breakfast, when Alyssa came home. The sun streamed through the window, casting long shadows on the tile floor, but he didn't glance up as she passed him, heading for the staircase. The silence hung in the air, broken only by the rhythm of her footsteps against the hardwood floor.
Then, his voice sliced through the quiet.
“Where were you last night?” he asked, his eyes still fixed on his plate, unaffected.
She paused, her fingers curling around the banister as she turned to face him. For a beat, she hesitated, and then, meeting his gaze, she spoke.
“You don't own me, Robert,” she said, her voice calm, though she was taken aback by the strength of her own words.
“Obviously I don't,” Robert replied, his voice calm but firm.
“But you see, Alyssa, by law, you're my contract wife! People see you as my wife - don't you get it?
His words held a certain weight, the kind that demanded a reaction. But as he spoke, Alyssa felt a growing frustration. How could he think that a contract - of all things - could control her?
Did he think that this arranged marriage would stop her from living her life, just as he was already living his? She couldn't hide the annoyance in her face.
She opened her mouth, ready to respond, but instead, a quiet laugh escaped her. Then, she said with a slight shake of her head,
“You're even more dumb and arrogant than I thought, Robert.”
She gave him a look - brief but full of meaning - before turning and heading up the stairs.
Robert stood still, momentarily stunned. He watched her retreat, still processing her words.
Had she really just said that?
Robert pushed his half- finished meal aside, the glint of the city's skyline outside their floor-to-ceiling windows catching his eye, its light twinkling like distant stars. The penthouse in downtown Los Angeles - an extravagant blend of glass and steel - had been his sanctuary, but tonight, it felt more like a gilded cage. Alyssa's words, her cold dismissal, hung in the air like smoke, thick and suffocating. This wasn't the woman he had known over the past four months. She didn't have such audacity.
His hands clenched, the polished marble countertops beneath him reflecting the tension in his posture. He could feel the weight of his control slipping, a fury he'd never let show creeping to the surface. She wouldn't disrespect him like this, not in this life he had built.
“Alyssa!” The shout rang out, sharp and commanding, as he stormed toward the staircase, the sound of his voice bouncing off the grand, open expanse of their living room - where art and wealth were on display in every corner. His boots clicked against the gleaming hardwood floor, each step more urgent than the last as he ascended the spiral staircase, the luxurious surroundings only amplifying the turmoil inside him.
- Writer
