BASTARD IN A SUIT

MAXIMILIAN’S POV

My meeting was a success. I finally closed that deal with Addison Corporation after five years. It wasn't an easy road, but my patience and dedication had finally paid off.

I turned down celebratory drinks in the Valley with my workers so that I could have my driver take me home to my girlfriend, Kimberly. A text or phone call wouldn't suffice to share my good news with her. I wanted to do it in person.

Seven hours later and I was back in my Penthouse Suite overlooking the heart of New York City. But one would think the city was experiencing a blackout if it wasn't for the lights pelting in through the enormous glass windows.

“Why is it so dark in here?” I muttered under my breath, shrugging my coat off and then setting it on the rack by the door.

I peeled off my shoes and flexed my tired muscles before placing my boots on the stand next to the coat rack. Undoing my cufflinks, I called out; “Kimberly.” But the sound of thunder crashing through the sky drowned out my voice. I checked the time on my watch, and it was only half past seven. Surely, Kimmy wasn't asleep already. “Kimmy baby, I'm home,” I called out, but still I was greeted with nothing.

Again, a smile graced my lips, feeling a sense of pride to have sealed that deal today.

Ever since I started M&M Finance ten years ago, my dream was to sign Addison Corp, but I knew they wouldn't do so with a start-up company. So I worked my ass off and pursued smaller companies, lending them minor loans, anything between a hundred thousand dollars and half a million dollars. I only had two companies under M&M at first until I signed with Kroger Enterprise and had them as my key investors. And my company grew into a multimillion-dollar enterprise, but Addison Corp's CEO, Wilson Addison, still wouldn't sign with me. He asked me to come back when my business made its first billion-dollar profit.

A few years later and I am worth over fifty billion dollars, but before I could call Mr. Addison, he phoned me himself to set up a meeting. At the meeting, he told me he had been following my company's numbers, and he was quite impressed. So, along with our lawyers, we stroke up a deal that I could have only dreamed of. M&M was now the sole company that would finance Addison Corp.

My life seemed to be going according to plan. I was a wealthy 35-year-old, and I was on the latest issue of Money Magazine as America's Most Eligible Billionaires. Plus, I was dating Kimberly Sweeten, America's upcoming sweetheart. Her dream was to be an actress, but for now, she was one of the most sought-after models. And she was all mine. I dug my hand into my pocket and fished out the blue box from Tiffany's. It took me weeks to pick out the princess cut pink diamond engagement ring. It was five million dollars well spent. Kimmy deserved it, I told myself. Plus, it seemed like the right time. It was now or never. Life was good.

I remembered Kimmy telling me she had a photo shoot earlier today. I wondered if she was tired and could be asleep after all. I headed up the stairs, two steps at a time until I was at the master bedroom, my palm reached out ready to turn the knob when soft, sensual moans drifted through the crack of the doorway, paired with bed creaking noises. My hand dropped to my side, suddenly feeling nauseous.

Kimmy would never, I thought. We'd been together for two years now. Even though she knew she wasn't the only one in the beginning, she still agreed to date me. Everything was casual until six months into the relationship when we decided to become exclusive, and I'd been faithful to her ever since.

Kimmy's moaning got louder and the man who was enjoying my girlfriend in my California King bed began grunting, screaming how good Kimmy's pussy was. I inched away from the door, recognizing his voice. My brain refused to believe it, but then I had to with what I heard next.

“Oh, Asher," Kimberly moaned. “Cum in my pussy, baby. Fill my filthy pussy with your juice."

Shock paralysed my body, forcing me to stumble back until my back collided with the wall. My fingers got numb, and the jewellery box fell from my grip and tumbled close to the bedroom door.

The squeaking immediately came to a halt. There were sounds of frantic shuffling. They grunted repeatedly a few fucks and shits before the door was flung open. Kimmy was out first, her fake eyelashes crooked with red lipstick smudged everywhere except on her lips. And her dirty blond hair was a dishevelled mess, showcasing how good of a fuck Asher was.

Then Asher followed behind her, looking just as guilty, with red lipstick all over his mouth and neck. His breathing was heavy and unsettled as he looked at me. I could feel my heart being cleaved wide open when his gaze locked with mine. My palms curled into fists, hitching to punch something, most likely Asher's face.

“Sweetheart," Kimmy said softly, clasping her hands beneath her chin as if she was about to fall on her knees and chant a prayer. She stepped towards me, reaching her hand out to touch me. I recoiled, shaking my head in disgust. “Sweetheart please —" she begged, stepping forward again. This time she stepped on the tiny box on the floor. She gasped when her views landed on what she just stepped on. Her eyes found me once more. “Max — I'm —"

“How long?” I hurled out. Asher's mouth hung open, but no words came out. Kimmy, however, flinched at my sharpness as shame unfurled on her face, making me falter. But then my field of vision expanded, and I saw the full, raw picture in front of me — Asher in nothing but a flimsy blanket to cover himself and Kimmy wearing a shirt I recognized not to be hers. She was wearing Asher's shirt. I got angry all over again.