03|I'd help you cheat

Celeste pov.

“So let me get this straight, you caught your husband cheating with your sister, she’s pregnant, you asked for a divorce, and now you’re here, drunk and looking for a man to cheat with before the divorce is finalized. Is that what you’re telling me?” the bartender, a man with green hair, asked as he placed another glass in front of me, a stunned expression on his face.

My lips curved into a slow grin as I took the small glass and downed the liquor in seconds, nodding with a chuckle.

“And don’t forget the part where he told me to accept the child as our own.” I pointed to myself, my voice slurring slightly. “He wanted me to fucking raise the child my sister and husband had behind my back. Haha, isn’t that hilarious?”

“Damn, and you didn’t castrate him? Pluck out his eyes? Or at the very least, kick him in the dick?” he said, eyebrows raised as the music blasted through the bar. “If you ask me, I think a slap was letting him off way too easy.”

I shrugged.

Maybe I should’ve done it but to be honest, in that moment, the pain overshadowed the anger. I knew if I had stayed even a second longer, I would’ve broken down and cried. And I’d promised myself not to shed another tear for someone like that. Not anymore.

Even though I didn’t really love Ethan, he had always been cold, I had still been nothing but a devoted wife.

From waking up early to cook him breakfast, ironing his clothes, helping organize his schedule, attending events at his side, and pretending to be the perfect, happy wife he wanted... I did it all.

Ethan hated having people around, convinced that too many eyes meant too many mouths that could leak information. So we only had two maids who came every Saturday to clean. The rest? I did it. I took care of that entire mansion, work meant for more than one person, completely on my own.

And yet, despite all that, he never acknowledged me. He didn’t want to share a room, barely touched me unless we were in public… but he could do that with my sister.

I chuckled dryly. I wondered what was so wrong with me that made him seem so repulsed.

“I swear, you see the craziest things in this club. Just a second ago, I saw a woman in a wedding dress crying—”

“I need to get laid,” I cut him off, slamming my hand on the counter.

The bartender, whose name I’d forgotten the second he said it, flinched.

“W-what?” he asked, hand clutching his chest as if I had just declared war.

“I need to get laid,” I repeated, licking my bottom lip as I gave him a once-over. He looked good enough to get the job done. “Do you mind sleeping with a married woman and giving her the best night of her life?”

“Ew, no!” he blurted out, recoiling slightly, his lip curling in disgust.

I blinked, taken aback.

What. That was… harsh. I knew I might not be that pretty, but I was practically offering a free night with me. I mean, there was nothing to lose, right?

He must’ve noticed my expression, because he quickly shook his head and laughed.

“Oh no, I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry. I meant ew as in, I don’t like women.” He pointed at himself. “I’m gay. I prefer dick. So yeah.”

I squinted at him, then slowly nodded in understanding.

Ah. That explained the impossibly skinny jeans.

“But if you’re looking for an extremely gorgeous man to spend the night with, you should definitely go for him.” He pointed toward a direction, and my brows furrowed as I followed his gesture.

There, seated on one of the couches in a far corner of the club, was a man.

His eyes were fixed on the drink in his hand, and though I couldn’t see his features clearly, half because I was drunk, and half because of the neon lights strobing through the club, I could still tell he was attractive.

I mean, just from here, his body looked built. Broad. Hot.

If a man with that kind of body could fuck me, then I was pretty sure it would feel amazing.

“Rowan Wolfe,” the bartender said behind me. “Damn, that man is hella attractive, and I just know he’s packing. So, if you want to enjoy your night, he’s your target. Though, I have to warn you, there’s a 90% chance he’ll ignore you and break your hand if you touch him without permission.”

My eyes narrowed on the stranger, and the corner of my lips curved into a small smile.

Rowan Wolfe.

That name sounded insanely hot for some reason.

“90% so that means there’s a 10% chance I’ll end up in bed with him, right?” I asked, turning to find the bartender also gawking at the man.

He turned to me and chuckled.

“Do you know how many women I’ve seen walk up to him and leave the club crying?” he asked, shaking his head. “But yeah, there’s always that 10% chance you might be the lucky one.”

Lucky one? I nearly scoffed. If I were lucky, I wouldn’t be here, freshly betrayed by my husband and humiliated by my sister.

But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t take my shot with the stranger.

What was the worst that could happen?

No stranger could possibly hurt me more than Ethan already had.

I dragged myself off the stool and stood up, nearly stumbling before quickly steadying myself. Reaching into my purse, I pulled out a wad of cash and slammed it on the counter.

“Wish me luck. I’m getting that man, no matter what,” I said with determined fire, taking a deep breath as I stepped forward, hands clenched at my sides, eyes locked on the man.

“Oh my God, is that a hundred-dollar tip?!” the bartender exclaimed. “Go get him, girl! Wishing you the best of luck!”

I raised my fist in the air, confidence oozing off me despite my heart pounding like it might burst.

“I can do this, I can do this,” I muttered to myself.

Stopping in front of him, nerves hit me hard as I remembered the bartender’s words.

He would break my hand if I touched him.

The women who walked up to him ran out of the bar crying.

Rowan, the stranger, kept his head lowered, eyes fixed on his drink, not once raising them to meet mine despite me standing right in front of him.

Fuck, the man looked even more sculpted up close than he did from afar, maybe that’s why I was so nervous.

Still, I reminded myself of my goal and opened my mouth to speak, only to be cut off by his low, deep voice.

“Five seconds,” he said without lifting his head. “You have five seconds to tell me why you’re here.”

I blinked, taken aback, but something told me that if I didn’t speak, I’d lose my chance.

Before I could stop myself, the words spilled out, “I’m a married woman, and I want to cheat on my husband. Would you spend the night with me?”

I said it so fast I had to shut my eyes in embarrassment, but quickly regained my composure and dug into my bag.

“A-and you don’t have to do it for free, I can pay you any amount you want...” My voice trailed off as the man slowly lifted his head.

The moment I saw him, I froze, my eyes widening as a pair of emotionless green eyes landed on me.

Oh. My. God.

That bartender wasn’t wrong. How could someone be so handsome yet so strikingly beautiful?

The world seemed to freeze as Rowan raised a brow, his eyes flashing with something like recognition before it vanished, replaced by amusement.

The corner of his lips tilted into a small smirk as he set his drink down and nodded slowly.

“Sure,” he said, tilting his head slightly, his gaze locked on mine “I’d love to help you cheat.”