CHAPTER 4.
1075 Words
CHAPTER 4.
Williams POV.(President)
My mind swirls back to that day, a decade ago, when I first slept with a woman and didn't feel the need to tail her or confiscate any potential blackmail material. Now, I see her in my home, preparing to marry Mason. Mason is my adopted son, whom I took under my wing after his father died in a plane crash twenty years ago. He has been a devoted son to me, and even now that I have become president, he has never done anything to tarnish our reputation.
Two years ago, on the eve of the election, I visited the White House and happened to see her. I never thought I would encounter her again, but she didn't seem surprised to see me that day. I knew she was aware of my true identity, but it didn't bother me. After winning the election, I went to the White House to find her, but she was nowhere to be found. I had the FBI and CIA search for her as if she were a criminal, but they were unable to locate her.
I wanted Mason to marry an ambitious woman, one of the best in the USA, and Taylor Blackwell perfectly embodied the qualities of ambition. She was fiercely independent as a state attorney and the communication director of the White House. Not to mention, her alluring beauty set me on fire with just a glance.
My body tensed up with anticipation, imagining licking her thighs and exploring what lay beneath her skirt, slowly teasing aside her panties.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't push her out of my mind. For those two years that I knew her identity, I found myself fantasizing about her almost every day. Half of my gallery was filled with her pictures, and I couldn't let go of the connection we had.
"Taylor is such a beautiful woman," my wife, Charlotte, who also happened to be the First Lady, happily trailed off as our cars sped off towards the White House.
"She's the perfect wife for you, Mason," she added, prompting Mason's eyes to sparkle with happiness as a wide grin spread across his face.
"Damn!" He exclaimed. "I'm not just happy, but now I'm the luckiest man in the USA," he said jokingly, and Charlotte burst into hearty laughter, filling the car with infectious joy.
“Mum, Taylor wouldn't be a bad choice for a wife," Mason commented after a few minutes, and I couldn't help but gulp. Should I let him know that I don't approve of their marriage? What reasons could I possibly give to justify my stance? What if Taylor truly wants to marry him?
"She has such a calm personality, just like her mother," Charlotte added.
It was Charlotte who had suggested that Mason marry Taylor. She believed that he needed a strong partner by his side to navigate the challenges of politics, something that would become a part of our family legacy.
"Yes, Mrs. Mia is super cool!" Mason exclaimed with joy. "I've met her once or twice, and all I can say is that she is the perfect embodiment of her mother."
"So, what are you saying?" Charlotte raised her gaze to him. “PERFECTO?"
He nodded with a soft smile.
"Mr. President!" His voice jolted me out of my thoughts. That was what he enjoyed calling me.
"You haven't said anything since after the dinner. Don't you have anything to say about Taylor? Did you know her?" He asked.
I furrowed my brows, wearing a puzzled expression. "No, I don't," I replied.
"But that's unlike you. You haven't said anything since, but that's okay. I'll take it as an approval," he smiled.
A stabbing sensation coursed through me, as if a knife were piercing my heart. How could I tell him that his soon-to-be wife was my slut ten years ago? Not only that, but we're still entangled in that moment, unable to let go.
The sound of the brake pads filled the air as the car came to a stop.
"Okay, Mr. President, Mom. I'll be on my way, but I'll be back tomorrow to prepare for our wedding," he said as he exited the car.
The corners of his eyes crinkled with a radiant smile, his body swaying with an invisible rhythm, emanating effortless joy. He was overjoyed to have Taylor as his wife-to-be, and I couldn't help but gulp, feeling my Adam's apple bob up and down my throat.
"Are you okay?" Charlotte asked, noticing my discomfort. I was accustomed to leading conversations and giving instructions within my family, but this situation was different... I had nothing to say.
"Yes, I'm fine!" I assured her with a forced smirk.
I found myself repeatedly checking my watch, acutely aware of the passing seconds. It was almost 8:00 PM, just as I had arranged with Taylor. Clenching and unclenching my fists, I tried to release some of the pent-up tension and nervousness as I thought:Would she show up?
I bit my lip, feeling the sting of pain as a temporary distraction from my nerves, and then raised my gaze outside the window.
"Stop!" I commanded, and Charlotte furrowed her brows in confusion.
"Will, we have a meeting at the White House at 8:00 PM. It's just three more minutes to go," she expressed her surprise at my decision to stop the car.
"I have somewhere I need to be," I lied. "Represent me. Tell them the President couldn't make it today..." Without hesitation, I stepped out of the car and watched it speed away, while her eyes lingered on me. She might have argued against my words, but I am the President, and my words are her orders... The people didn't vote for her; they voted for me, and she was fortunate enough to be my wife.
I swiftly entered the waiting car as soon as my security team opened the door. These were not just any White House security personnel, but my private CIA agents.
"Mr. President, where to?" one of them asked as I settled in.
"Bisque Hotels," I replied, adjusting my tie.
I discreetly pulled out my phone and dialed Jack, a member of the private CIA.
"At your service, Mr. President!" his voice thundered as he answered the call.
"Clear Bisque Hotels immediately!" I ordered, before abruptly ending the call. Nobody needs to know that I planned to meet her there.
- Writer
