A contract with my ex boyfriend's step brother

Elena

“Love.” The word was beginning to feel like the cruelest joke ever invented.

I swirled the whiskey in my glass before throwing it down my throat. It burned all the way to my stomach. Maybe if I drank enough, the pain I feel in my heart would finally disappear.

Two years…Two whole years of loving Jack with everything I had.

Two years of investing my time, my money, my emotions, only for him to tell me that he could never proudly introduce me to his family because of my job and I'm not as sophisticated as he likes his woman to be.

All because I get paid to entertain people at a club as a pole dancer.

According to him, women like me weren’t the kind men married.

As if that same job hadn’t kept us afloat, even when he couldn’t even afford some basic needs for himself.

I let out a bitter laugh.

“So every compliment was a lie…”

I took another sip. It feels like my chest is being crushed.

In as much as I have my own shits to deal with…Paying off the debt my father left behind before he died and trying to raise money for my fashion brand. I still found ways to support Jack financially because I believed in us. Because I loved him.

I didn't mind him not being stable at the moment, his love was enough for me. But apparently, I was just the only one in love.

After dumping me, he was already on vacation with the girl he always insisted was “just a friend.”

The pictures flooded social media. They weren’t just standing together. They were kissing.

She looked so elegant and so sophisticated in the picture. Everything I apparently wasn’t.

The breakup wasn’t sudden. It had been planned. I was simply the last person to realize it.

A laugh escaped me, quickly followed by tears.

“What a fool I was.”

I had welcomed that girl with open arms whenever she came around. I trusted her.

Meanwhile, they were making a fool out of me.

“Another bottle,” I told the bartender.

He hesitated. “Miss, I think you’ve had enough.”

“I’ll decide when I’ve had enough.”

He sighed before placing another bottle in front of me.

I abandoned the glass altogether and drank straight from the bottle.

The sharp taste barely registered anymore. Nothing could hurt more than this betrayal I just experienced.

I stared blankly at the amber liquid, when I heard this deep, charming voice.

“I booked this entire lounge.”

“I’m terribly sorry, sir. The bartender replied. “She was already here before we received your reservation.”

Slowly, I lifted my head.

Everything around me blurred slightly, but even through the haze of alcohol, the man standing a few feet away stole my breath.

He is tall, with his broad shoulders that filled out his tailored black suit perfectly.

Dark hair slightly tousled, sharp jaw, straight nose.

His lips were firm and perfectly shaped.

He looked like the kind of man who belonged on magazine covers, or at the head of a billion-dollar empire.

I let out a tired laugh. “Wow…”

His gaze hardened instantly.

“And what's so funny,” he said coldly,

I rolled my eyes. “Relax.”

I lazily lifted my whiskey bottle.

“I’m far too heartbroken for any more drama.”

I gestured toward the empty seat across from me.

“Besides… this place is big enough for both of us.”

His expression didn’t change.

“Hey Miss!” He snapped, making me jerk.

“Leave. Right now!”

***************************

The warmth sunlight spilling through the curtains woke me up

My head pounded and slowly, I opened my eyes.

For several seconds, I simply stared at the unfamiliar ceiling.

Then panic hit. I shot upright.

“Where am I?”

The luxurious bedroom looked nothing like anywhere I had ever stayed.

Designer furniture. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Everything screamed wealth.

My gaze dropped to the floor and I saw scattered clothes.

My heart stopped. With trembling fingers, I pulled back the duvet.

I wasn’t wearing any clothes.

“Oh my God, what the hell just happened?” I whispered.

I mentally assessed myself, as I felt so sore between my legs.

Fragments of the previous night flashed through my mind.

Drinking to stupor, the handsome stranger… it seems we had a lot to drink.

I recalled him rising above me, sliding inside me and I felt my walls break.

Yes, I was a virgin.

Jack felt so irritated to touch me, saying that different men had slept with me. I told him it's not true, I was just an entertainer, no sex involved. But he didn't believe me.

He concluded by saying that we would have sex when we get married. I was still happy. I believed he was disciplined. I was keeping my virginity for him.

I just gave it to a stranger just like that.

I felt this mixture of pain and pleasure.

Heat rushed to my cheeks and I buried my face in my hands.

“What have I done?”

The sound of running water came from the bathroom.

My heartbeat became uneven. He was still here.

How was I supposed to face him after everything that had happened?

Before I could gather my thoughts, the bathroom door opened.

He stepped out with a towel draped over his shoulders, casually drying his hair.

Even in daylight, he looked so attractive.

My gaze instinctively traveled upward before I quickly looked away.

A strange mixture of embarrassment and confusion settled inside me.

He didn’t even spare me a second glance.

Instead, he walked to the bedside table, picked up a thick bundle of cash, and tossed it onto the bed.

The money landed against my legs.

His voice was emotionless.

“Take that, get dressed, and leave.”

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

Is he calling me a whore?

That I had spent the night with him for money?

Humiliation burned hotter than the whiskey ever had.

I picked up the bundle and threw it back toward him.

“I’m not a whore. Keep your goddamn money.”

“Don’t even think of leaving that money behind. Take it, get dressed and get lost.”

His expression remained cold.

“And I don’t ever want to set my eyes on you again.”