CHAPTER 1

MARTHA

The rain fell heavily on Friday night as I set off to leave for my father's house after closing my job as a waitress in a luxury high-end restaurant in this Sun City.

When I stepped out of the restaurant premises, I hailed a taxi and went home.

Upon arriving home, I met my stepmother, Sandra Roger, in the living room. She wore a dazzling blue dress and black slippers, and she frowned upon seeing me return early.

Thunder struck as soon as I shut the door behind me, drenched from the heavy downpour.

It was 8 PM, and I greeted my stepmother, "Good evening, Mom."

"Martha, why are you home so early?" Sandra asked as she rose to her feet.

Looking at her frowning face, I asked, "What sort of question is that? This is my father's house, and I can return home whenever I like."

"Oh sure," Sandra replied with a smile and sat back. I knew that she disliked me and was only pretending to marry into my family. But after her marriage to my father, she treated me poorly until he died two years ago. I had to live with Sandra because my father's will stated that he gave the whole house to me, while Sandra and her daughter, Elena, stole the company.

Ignoring my stepmother, I quickly rushed upstairs to my room to change out of my wet blue dress. But as I neared the door, the intense groaning and moaning froze me in place.

"Ah, Mark! Fụck!" I heard Elena's voice, crying as the man rode her to ecstasy.

My fist clenched at how Elena was moaning like a lunatic. 'Can't she take her boyfriend to a hotel? Why bring him here to our father's house? Can't she have a little respect for our late father?'

I wanted to ignore Elena, as I was four years older than her. I was 24 years old, and she was 20.

However, I heard Elena's cry again, "Fụck me, Mark!"

I froze.

Who was Mark? Was he my fiancé, Mark Elliott?

I wanted to ignore them, thinking there were many Marks, so no fuckìng way that Mark Elliott would be the man with my shameless sister. But I heard Elena's comment, "Mark, do you enjoy having sex with Martha like you do with me?"

"Fụck it, Elena. Martha has a dry pụssy, and I don't enjoy anything. She is too skinny and lacks the plumpy boobs and soft ass like you."

"What?" My fist clenched as I spun around to face Elena's room door, and I heard her comments.

"Awn... I am glad that I'm different. How about your engagement to Martha? Aren't you going to call off the engagement? You cannot marry her over me," Elena purred as Mark drove her. The sounds of his moans echoed in the corridor as her pụssy made that squelching sound.

"Don't worry. I am only getting married to Martha to take over your father's company. Do not forget that your mother stated that your father left everything in Martha's name, if not that she deceived Martha into thinking your father left only the house for her."

"What?" I gasped, blood draining from my face as I heard their discussion. I wasn't able to pull the door open to unlock and face them.

Elena's door was slightly opened, and I spun around to leave the house, only to see my stepmother standing in the corridor with a pestle in her hands.

"Martha, your time is up, and you cannot take everything away from my daughter and me." Sandra raised the pestle to smash it on me, but I dodged her attack and pushed her to the ground.

"Ahhh!" She gasped as she landed on her butt.

After hearing that Sandra had changed my father's will to suit her preference, I jumped on her and smacked her face multiple times.

"Martha, how dare you?" Sandra shrieked, and Elena's room door flew open. Elena and Mark shamelessly darted out of her room nàked and looked stunned to see Sandra on the ground, after I had smacked her ten times for changing my father's will.

Who knows if Sandra had a hand in my father's mysterious death two years ago?

"Martha, how dare you lay your filthy hands on my mother?" Elena growled at me, but I glared at her in disgust.

"You shameless slut. Riding my ex, and you think you will be better than me or get my inheritance? Only in your dreams." I spun around to leave the house, knowing that I could not stay there with them.

Before I left the corridor, Mark called out to me, "Martha, you cannot leave this city. Know that our marriage has already been scheduled, and whether you like it or not, you must marry me!"

"Only in your dreams. I will never marry an ásshole and cheap dog like you!" I cursed at Mark, before I left the corridor.

Tears flooded down my cheeks as I made my way outside of the duplex my father owned. The house used to be peaceful until my dad got married to that evil witch.

Clenching my fist, I hurried out of the house, leaving everything behind. I will be back for them, so I made my way to the road to get a cab.

The rain poured down heavily on me as I found a taxi.

"To Dennis Hotel," I said, as it was getting late. I had nowhere to go. My relatives lost interest in me after my mother's death. They blame me for her death, as they preferred I should have died in her place, instead of her having me as her baby. She died during her labor.

Wiping the sobs away from my cheeks, I looked out of the window. The money I had could barely sustain me.

When the taxi arrived at the hotel, I got out and paid the taxi driver, and made my way into the hotel.

Dennis Hotel was a popular brothel in town, and I wanted to spend the night there to cheat on Mark and forget those mean words he remarked about me.

When I entered the hotel lobby, the receptionist peered at me and frowned.

"Hey, Miss. What are you doing here all soaked up from the rain?" She asked, and I drew a deep breath.

"I want a night with any available rich man. How much will I be paid?"

"Haha!" The two receptionists laughed at my broken state.

"You're too skinny to attract any rich client. So go out and look for another hotel or brothel to satisfy your fantasy," they dismissed me, but I was clearly determined to show them that I am not one to give up easily.

If I don't get the money to get my stepmother arrested, then I will be the one at a loss.

"I am serious, and I am not leaving this brothel. Please," I stripped off my wet blue dress that I had worn to work that morning.

"Hey! What are you doing?" The receptionist growled at me as she walked away from her desk.

"Let her go!" A deep voice startled me, and I turned to see who it was.

It was a group of five men in black who walked into the hotel lobby. The one who spoke had golden-colored eyes that sent chills crashing down my spine. I hadn't seen any human with such eye color before.

"Welcome, sir. We are just trying to make our hotel a conducive environment. What do you want?" The female receptionist in a white top and black short skirt, who wanted to chase me out, asked the tall, formidable man who walked in to meet us.