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Beneath The Facade
Beneath The Facade
ผู้แต่ง: Deborah A. Olaleye

Chapter One

ผู้เขียน: Deborah A. Olaleye
last update ปรับปรุงล่าสุด: 2025-06-25 14:36:59

Aiden 

Soft music floats in the background, complementing the ambiance and décor of the restaurant I've chosen for this occasion. The menus are tantalizing, the tables set to perfection, and the setting evokes a flavorful blend of romance. The lighting dances across Katherine's olive skin, enhancing her radiance.

Katherine is a stunning woman. She looks queenly in her attire: a shimmering turquoise spaghetti dress that clings to her body like a second skin. She's the kind of woman men would go weak in the knees for. However, tonight's outcome is an irony to the venue I've picked.

I anticipate her reaction as the silence lingers after I drop the bombshell. Her expression falls slowly, her mouth thinning into a flat line, following my announcement. I watch her with alertness as she twirls her fork and knife expertly on either side of her plate. She assesses me with a grave look that makes me contemplate bolting.

Fear the silent ones, they say. For they are the most brutal. The silence stretches on, and the tension is starting to grate on my nerves. I wait out her reaction nonetheless, bracing myself for which act she will unleash – the silent killer or the crazy bawler.

Finally, Katie clears her throat, setting her cutlery down. "So...this is where it ends, huh?"

"Yeah," I reply, my eyes scanning her face to read behind the mask of neutrality. "I'm sorry we didn't work out."

I'm not sorry, though. I know our relationship is bound to hit the rocks. We both know I have no intention of making a long-term commitment.

Katie smacks her lips. "Alright." She grabs her shoulder bag and rises from her chair, balancing the bag's handle across one shoulder. "It was worth a try," she croaks, her words limning hurt and disappointment.

Her chair creaks behind her as she steps away from the table, her gaze fixed on me. I'm grateful she takes the breakup in easy stride. My last ex's reaction was no comfort. She caused quite a scene, and I regretted not breaking up with her over a text.

But my code of ethics is to jilt a woman face-to-face. I believe breaking up a relationship over a text is insouciant and cowardly. And I'm no coward.

"If you ever feel lonely, you know how to reach me," Katie says.

I tilt my chin in acknowledgment. "Sure. Goodbye, Katherine."

She arches her eyebrows. "See you around, Mendes," she says, addressing me by my last name, and walking away from our table.

I heave a sigh in relief after she's gone. 

"This went well, at least," I murmur beneath a relieved sigh.

 With the wealth of experience I've accumulated from past breakups, I'm convinced I've earned an honorary Ph.D. in Understanding Women – or at the very least, a professor emeritus title in Women's Psychology!

I wave the waiter over to take the bill. After receiving the receipt, I leave the restaurant, not bothering that most of our orders have been left uneaten.

 I didn't want to break up with her on an empty stomach; my home training was still intact. Yet, the words had been itching to be released, and I didn't realize when I blurted them out halfway through our meal.

I start the car's engine as soon as I get in, put on my shades, and speed out of the restaurant's parking space.

 I drive at top speed to my next destination, feeling exhilarated that today's task went smoothly. I had expected worse.

 Fortunately, there are no traffic cops on the road. Otherwise, driving at this speed would likely get my license revoked if I were pulled over.

The engine purrs beneath me as I bring the car to a halt. I get out, humming softly, and tapping my fingers rhythmically. The car beeps as the security lock engages, and I walk into the swimming establishment.

"Whose heart did you break this time?" a familiar voice asks, echoing across the empty swimming area.

 I turn toward the sound of approaching footsteps, holding back a smile. My best friend since childhood, Raymond Stilinski, steps into view, clad in his training gear. He's a swimming instructor, coach, and owner of this building.

 I often visit when I need space to reflect, during quiet hours when I know I'll find tranquility.

He often trains kids for leisure and competitions. He reaches me, extending a hand in greeting. We share a coded brotherly hug, slapping each other warmly across the back. 

"It's been a while," Raymond remarks, smiling.

 "Sure, it is." I glance around, noticing the modifications made to the building since my last visit. I'm glad to see Raymond's business thriving.

Raymond comes from an average family. We grew up together in an average neighborhood, attending the same school, until my mom got sick and left me in the care of my real father, who had been absent throughout my childhood—Alvin Dale Mendes, the founder and Chairman of MD Group and Entertainment.

My life changed overnight. I went from a simple life to one of luxury and limelight.

"Business is going well, huh?" I ask Raymond, nodding at the new additions to his building. He grins. 

"Yeah. You haven't answered my question, though." 

"Do I only come here when I've broken someone's heart?"

 Raymond raises an eyebrow. "It's either a breakup or something else."

 "What else? Do I only visit when I've messed up? What if I miss my friend?"

 Raymond snorts. "As if. You're not that sentimental."

He turns away, arranging life jackets. "How's Katie doing?" he asks over his shoulder. 

"You're right," I sigh. "I only come here after a breakup." 

Raymond whips around, surprise etched on his face. "You and Katie are over? I thought you two were cool. She's a great girl." 

I run a hand through my hair. "Yeah, she is. That's why I had to let her go." 

"Nonsense!" Raymond hisses, charging towards me to deliver another of his motivational speeches.

 I duck sideways and sprint toward the changing room. I strip down to my briefs and head out to swim.

Raymond watches me in silence as I swim laps. He finishes cleaning and waits calmly for me to finish on one of the benches. 

"What's my tab?" I ask when I step out of the pool, dripping wet.

 Raymond tosses a towel at me, and I catch it mid-air before it hits my face. "Thanks, man." I quickly dry my hair and hang the towel over my shoulder.

 Raymond's scrutinizing gaze prompts me to ask, "What?" 

He considers sharing his concerns before shaking his head. "Don't worry about it. Are you done?" He asks, standing up from his bench.

 "Yeah, I'm done," I reply, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

 "Let's hit town then. It's been a long day," Raymond mutters under his breath.

 I agree. "I'll be out in five," I say, heading to change, and we head out.

 It's around 8 p.m. when I pull into my dad's driveway. Even after living with him for over 13 years, calling him "Dad" still feels off.

 I scrunch my nose in disgust, turning off the engine. Ray and I had a blast drinking and catching up. To be precise, I tried to drink myself into exhaustion, but Ray, always the voice of reason, wouldn't let me. He reminded me I had to drive home. Nonetheless, I still had a great time letting loose and connecting with my friend.

Now, the fun's over. It's time to face reality. 

When I moved to this mansion at 15, I was thrilled about living in luxury. But my excitement was short-lived. I soon realized that wealth isn't everything. Affluence doesn't equal happiness. There's a lot of drama that comes with wealthy living.

 If I could turn back time, I'd go back to the good old days when it was just me and my mom. Our small house and quaint neighborhood were perfect. The simple life brought me more peace and happiness than I've ever known since moving here.

I step out of my car, locking the door. Another car pulls into the driveway as I get out. I lean against my car, waiting for the owner of the exotic black car to step out.

 I know who it is – Beatrice Mendes, my stepmother. She exits her car with her usual flair, showcasing her wealth. Her expensive fur coat and arrogant demeanor make her look condescending. 

Her driver opens the door, and she scowls at the sight of me. She sweeps away, dashing inside without acknowledging me. She'd rather I didn't exist. I'm an unwanted guest in her home. However, it's her loss.

 Whether she likes it or not, I'm here to stay.

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  • Beneath The Facade    Chapter Thirty One

    Hermione I stare at my reflection in the mirror and grimace. My hair's a mess, and I try to tame it with my fingers, but it's no use. I grab my comb and work it through my tangles until my hair's smooth. My scalp burns, but I'm glad for the distraction from thoughts of Aiden. My skin still tingles from his touch."I hate him," I mutter, scowling at myself. I remember how I looked after he left – a total mess. How could he find me charming like that? I snort, thinking guys like him would chase any woman who'd give them the time of day.I try to focus on work, but Aiden's calls and texts keep haunting me. I ignore them, determined to shake him off. Still, my heart skips a beat when I see his name on my phone. He's switched to texts since I've been ignoring his calls."I know this is your contact. I confirmed it," he says. I almost laugh at that. A small smile creeps onto my lips, but I quickly wipe it away. "You promised you forgave me," he writes. Yeah, I did. But that doesn't mea

  • Beneath The Facade    Chapter Thirty

    Hermione My mouth hangs open in disbelief at Aiden's outburst. A rollercoaster of emotion explodes within me, but I hold back from pushing against him. Every part of me aches with pain and need. I flinch when I notice that my hands are on his muscled thighs, the unmistakable bulge of his desire pushing against my backside. I try to get up, but pain shoots through my knee, straight to my buttocks, and I wince. I clench my teeth against the pain. It feels like my tendons are being ripped. I'm furious with Aiden. How dare he come back here and make me feel like a fool again? The pain intensifies, and I whimper. I try to lift my leg, but every move feels like pins and needles pricking that part of my skin. Left with no choice, I allow Aiden to lift me from the ground toward the cushion. "Call an ambulance," I instruct him, not trusting him not to cause further damage as he tries to inspect my injury. He ignores me. Without warning, he grips my hurting leg, and I scream. Blinding

  • Beneath The Facade    Chapter Twenty Eight

    Hermione Although I'd rather not ride back home with Aiden, I'm compelled to step into the limousine as the driver holds the door open for me. The sun has dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across the sky. However, the clouds gathering in the distance hint at an impending rain, and I don't want to risk getting soaked while waiting for an Uber. Aiden slides in beside me, and Kash starts the car, navigating out of the boutique's neighborhood onto the main road.The silence between Aiden and me is tense. He doesn't acknowledge my obvious irritation from the boutique, instead burying his face in his phone. I attempt to ignore him, but my annoyance simmers just below the surface. Is this his true self? The dismissive comment he made earlier still stings. I feel a pang in my heart, but I harden my gaze, determined to get through this ordeal. The wedding can't come soon enough.As we approach my house, I tell Kash, "I'll get down here." Kash looks at Aiden, seeking h

  • Beneath The Facade    Chapter Twenty Seven

    HermioneAiden Mendes spanked me on a live broadcast. I seethe with rage as we exchange goodbyes with Becca and the production crew, making our way to the limo. Thankfully, we're led through a different route, avoiding the swarm of reporters. I doubt I could maintain the facade of fake smiles if I had to navigate through them again. The thought of being besieged by them makes me shudder.Once we're in the limo, Aiden becomes absorbed in his phone, his fingers flying across the screen as he types out messages. Throughout the ride, he doesn't glance my way, and I'm forced to ignore him in return. The playful man I know has vanished, replaced by a tense, focused individual. His jaw is clenched, and his expression is stern.I almost ask him what's caught his attention, but I refrain. After the events of the day – nearly fainting, leaning on him in vulnerability, and being spanked – I'm not eager to prolong our interaction. I just hope I can get through the rest of this charade without

  • Beneath The Facade    Chapter Twenty Six

    AidenHermione's clearly not thinking clearly if she thinks I'll let her sit through a 45-minute interview on an empty stomach. She'd been close to fainting out there, and I suspect the flash of cameras overwhelmed her. I'm accustomed to the limelight, but this is a change for Hermione, who's never been extroverted or social. She's more comfortable in her hospital or home, surrounded by medical books or patients. The storm of reporters and cameras must have taken a toll on her, especially without food.I should have checked if she'd eaten before I picked her up. Our interview wasn't scheduled until past ten, so I expected she'd have had time for breakfast. Aaron approaches with an energy drink and nut bars. That will have to do for now. "Sit down," I say calmly, warning simmering beneath my voice."I said I'm good," Hermione replies, taking the bottle water from Aaron and drinking from it. "Let's get the interview done...""Screw the interview, Hermione. I'm rescheduling," I say,

  • Beneath The Facade    Chapter Twenty Five

    Hermione The press is waiting as Aiden's driver pulls into the curb. Aiden's hand squeezes mine in a moment of reassurance, and we share a fleeting glance. He releases my hand as quickly as he holds it, before I can yank it off, much to my satisfaction. He signals game on, and I push my aversion to him aside. Aiden's driver opens the door to the dazzling flash of camera lights and a barrage of questions. Aiden handles the situation with aplomb as he reaches into the car to help me out. He looks to be in his element as reporters swarm around us. As I step into the chaotic scene, my distress is apparent, and Aiden plants his palm tenderly on the small of my back, leaning closer to whisper sweet nothings in my ear. My belly shakes with amusement, and I can't help but smile, tilting my head to the side as he whispers: "They can't devour you, baby. I've got you." I don't need his help to take on the press, but I'll play along. I'm an independent lady, and I don't need any man's savi

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