A year ago
Christian generously drove me to a hotel. Not just any hotel, one of his ridiculously expensive hotels. I was too worn out from crying and thinking to protest.
But when he offered that I stayed in a pent house, I had to say something. Knowing how much just a night cost, I persistently declined. I already owed him one. I didn't want to make a habit of receiving things from him.
He'd taken me through the check in to my room like I was a child who couldn't tell the way. Even though he wasn't my favorite person ever, I was grateful for this kindness.
At least somebody cared. I thought.
Sleep evaded me that night. I stayed up, thinking about my life. How sad it had been. How unfair I was being treated by the world.
I tossed and turned, despite the comfort and solace the soft pillows and the queen sized bed provided me.
I tried to deny that I hadn't missed this; the luxury, the comfort, the happiness something as small as room service provided. I loved hotels. Always have. The Callisto's had a big beautiful home, with servants and a chef well-versed in continental and inter-continental dishes. They weren't as wealthy or influential as the Gulf's though. Home was comfortable. I simply loved to travel and stay in hotels. I liked meeting people, especially foreigners…
The night wasn't getting any young, yet there were still no signs of sleep. My head pounded with unanswered questions. Questions no one could relieve me of. Since I couldn't sleep, I got up, and made my way to the transparent glass window.
From up here, I could see far into the towns. Lights seemed to be like stars. Buildings, tall and short blended perfectly, and gave a view nothing short of magnificent. My heart beat increased, nostalgia taking over. It was all breathtakingly beautiful. Funny how it had only been four years since I was last in a place like this. And somehow, I'd forgotten how surreal it could feel. Something as insignificant as looking out a window gave me butterflies even though I'd seen it a million times in the past.
At least, I wasn't thinking about my problems anymore. Despite how much I loathed Christian, I found myself admitting that maybe, just maybe he wasn't as bad as I made him out to be.
I made my way back to my bed. It was almost three a.m. Exhaustion had caused my eyelids to grow heavy. This time as my head touched the white soft feathers, my eyes closed and I drifted off to sleep.
The sound of room service knocking on my door woke me up a few hours later. After a quick shower and I'd eaten the breakfast buffet Christian had sent to my room, I grabbed the blue robe hanging in the bathroom and covered myself. I'd only just realized that I didn't have a change of clothes. And wearing the dress from last night would be a bad idea.
The net panty hose I'd worn under my very short dress, in my scampering, had torn beyond recognition. I had thick thighs, and being seen by Christian in something so revealing could lead to a misunderstanding.
He'd probably accuse me of trying to seduce him.
Even the thought of it made chills run down my spine.
With nothing else to do for the morning, I began to call Faye's friends, in hopes that somebody would know where she was. Even though I hoped, nobody had a clue.
The reality of everything that happened yesterday was beginning to hit hard. My thoughts ran wild as I made theories to explain what was happening. I needed to focus on the past because I had no idea what would happen in my future.
I'd lost my job a few days before Christian appeared in front of me with his ridiculous proposal. The bank had also sent an email warning for the foreclosure of our house. And with the debt I promised to help my parents pay off; my attempt to make them accept me as their daughter, I was in a real tight spot. No home, no job, no family.
I was almost running out of my mind when I heard the sound of the key card, and Christian walked into my room.
The robe was small and short, so I adjusted it on my body, making sure that my lady parts were properly hidden. "What if I was naked?" I scowled.
He paid me no heed. He took a seat opposite my bed, and crossed his legs.
He looked delicious in his dark blue suit. I knew all his suits were tailor made, but this one put the 'made' in tailor made. He flexed his arm muscle reaching for my earrings that sat on the table just beside him. I watched, my eyes refusing to leave his body. I'd done a thorough scan of his body seconds after he walked in, my appetite yet to be quenched.
"I knew it looked familiar."
He remembers?
Christian had gifted me this particular jewelry when I was sixteen. Well, he'd gifted it to his betrothed and knowing him, I'd assumed it came from his parents, or worse, one of their staff. He didn't like me enough to buy me anything, let alone hand pick something for me. I knew this much.
Standing up, I snatched the earring from his hand, not wanting to reminisce about his cruelty to me.
I'd heard rumors, and though I had my suspicions that they could only just be rumors, I'd seen the pictures of him and Leah. It would be foolish of me to deny that truth.
Christian stood with Leah by his side, his hand wrapped around her waist, a broad smile on his face during their engagement ceremony. He'd never smiled at me like that before. And I had been by his side longer than she was.
He wasn't cruel. No, Christian Gulf wasn't a cruel man, he simply detested me.
"What do you want?"
For a split second, I saw his eyes glisten as he looked at me. Maybe I was seeing things. Because when I focused my attention on him, there was only an impassive look there.
"First, to get some clothes on you." He placed his phone on his ear, and barked orders at whoever was at the other end of the line. When the call ended, his full attention was back on me.
"I'll help you find them. But you have to ask me first."
Easy…
But the words seem to be stuck in my throat. I was desperate to find them. Asking Christian for help should have been easy.
He reclined on the chair, his right index finger playing with his lips.
"You have to ask, Alora. Or I won't help."
"Please…" I began. Just one word and it felt like I was being choked. My chest felt tight, and my eyes stung.
Christian must have noticed my eyes pool, "Fuck Alora, why do you always make me the bad guy." He said sternly, his eyes boring into me.
"I already hired a PI to look for them." He got up. "Get dressed, we're going out."
As soon as he said the words, he left, not giving me time to process what he'd just said.
The next thing I knew, my room was filled with cloth racks with different clothes. Casual jeans and skirts, tops of different colors, t-shirts too, gowns, and for the shoes, they'd brought heels and sneakers. I alsmot didn't notice the boxed slippers.
They'd brought me enough clothes to last me weeks without having to repeat anyone.
I guess my housing problem has been sorted. Once again, I had another reason to be grateful to the cruel billionaire.