Chapter 4: The Morning After

The phone wouldn’t stop ringing.

It pierced through the thick fog of sleep like a distant alarm, pulling me reluctantly from the deepest, most dreamless rest I’d had in years. My body felt heavy, boneless, wrapped in warm sheets that smelled faintly of cedar, smoke, and something unmistakably masculine. I groaned softly, eyes still closed, and fumbled blindly for the source of the noise. My fingers closed around the familiar shape of my phone on the nightstand. Without thinking, without checking the screen, I answered. Part of me still believed it was all a nightmare — the doctor, the villa, the moans, the stranger.

“…Baby? Baby, please pick up. I need you to come over to the house. It’s an emergency.”

Alex’s voice. Real. Panicked. Familiar in a way that made my stomach twist violently.

“What?” My voice came out hoarse, cracked from screaming and moaning the night before.

“Liliana, thank God. My stepdad is back from Spain earlier than expected. He’s here at the Airbnb right now, asking questions about the wedding plans, about us, about the company merger stuff we were supposed to finalize. Everything’s falling apart. I need you here. Please. I’m begging you.”

I blinked slowly, the words sinking in like stones in deep water. For one disoriented second, I thought maybe yesterday *had* been a fever dream. But then I shifted under the sheets and felt it — the deep, delicious ache between my thighs, the tenderness in my hips, the faint bite marks on my breasts. My eyes flew open.

The room was unfamiliar. Not the luxury villa. Not our shared Airbnb. Simple, clean, masculine. The large bed I lay in, the faint scent of last night’s passion still lingering in the air. I was completely naked, the sheets pooled around my waist. No sign of the white-haired stranger. Just me, alone, in the soft morning light filtering through the curtains.

*Fuck.*

Yesterday wasn’t a dream. I had really done it. I had let a stranger — a hot, commanding, much older man — fuck me senseless. Raw. In multiple positions. Until I blacked out mid-orgasm. The memories flooded back in vivid, shameless flashes: his tongue between my legs, teaching me how to take his thick cock down my throat, bending me over the sink while I watched myself break in the mirror, his deep growls calling me “princess” and “good girl” as he ruined me exactly like I’d begged.

Heat rushed to my face. My core clenched involuntarily at the recollection, sending a fresh wave of soreness through me.

“Babe? Can you hear me?” Alex’s voice cracked with desperation on the line. “Liliana, please. I know I fucked up. Yesterday was… God, I don’t even know what happened. Mia and I… it was nothing. A stupid mistake. But my stepdad can’t find out about any of this. The company — our future — it’s all tied to his approval. If he pulls out now, I’m finished.”

A bitter laugh almost escaped me, but it turned into a wince as I sat up fully. My head throbbed with a brutal hangover. Every movement reminded me of last night — the way the stranger had gripped my hips hard enough to leave bruises, the way I had screamed for him to go harder, to make sure I felt him with every step today. Revenge had tasted so fucking good in the moment.

“We are done, Alex,” I said flatly, my voice steadier than I felt. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, hissing at the deep ache. Standing was going to be interesting.

“Liliana, baby, don’t say that. Please. I’m begging you. I’ll do anything. I don’t mind paying for whatever you want — a new car, a trip, anything. Just come here and pretend for a few hours. Act like everything’s normal. My father… the company… if he finds out I fucked up like this, he’ll cut me off completely. You know how he is. I need you. We’ve built too much together. The wedding, the life we planned—”

“You let me poison my body for *years* because of your lie,” I cut him off, anger rising hot and sharp despite the hangover. “You fucked my best friend the day before her wedding — in the house *I* booked for her. And now you want me to play happy fiancée so Daddy doesn’t take away your precious company money? Fuck you, Alex.”

Tears pricked my eyes, but I blinked them back. The pain in my chest was still there, raw and bleeding, but it felt… distant. Muted by the memory of strong hands and filthy praise.

“I know. I know I’m an asshole. I was scared. The infertility thing — I panicked. And Mia… it just happened. But I love *you*. Please. I’m on my knees right now. Come over. Help me fix this. One day. That’s all I’m asking. After that, we can talk. Really talk. I’ll go to counseling. I’ll tell my stepdad the truth if you want. Just don’t destroy everything because of one mistake.”

His voice cracked with real fear. I could picture him pacing the villa, hair messy, eyes bloodshot. Part of me — the old Liliana, the desperate foster kid who clung to any scrap of family — wanted to say yes immediately. But the new ache between my legs, the delicious reminder of how thoroughly I had been fucked by someone else, made me hesitate.

I exhaled slowly, pressing a hand to my throbbing temple. “Fine. I’ll come. But this doesn’t mean we’re okay. Don’t touch me. Don’t look at me like I’m yours. And after today, we’re done figuring this out on your timeline.”

“Thank you. Thank you, baby. I’ll make it up to you. I swear.”

I hung up before he could say more, tossing the phone onto the bed. The room spun slightly as I stood up. My legs trembled. A sharp, satisfying throb pulsed deep inside me with every step toward the bathroom. I bit my lower lip, a small, wicked smile tugging at my mouth despite everything.

*Too bad it was just a one-night stand.*

He had been so hot. That long white hair, the scar, the commanding voice, the way he had taken control and given me exactly what I begged for. Daddy. The word still sent a shiver through me. I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror — flushed cheeks, messy hair, faint hickeys and fingerprints on my hips and thighs. I looked thoroughly used. And strangely… alive.

I laughed softly, the sound surprising even me. It hurt to laugh, but it also felt freeing. Last night I had chosen *me*. For once. Revenge had come wrapped in the body of a silver-haired god who knew exactly how to make a broken woman forget her pain.

I turned on the shower, letting the hot water soothe my sore muscles. As steam filled the room, I wondered if I’d ever see him again. Probably not. But the memory? That would keep me warm for a long time.

For now, though, I had to face the wreckage I’d left behind. Alex. Mia. The fake performance I’d agreed to.

I dressed slowly, wincing with every movement, each ache pulling my thoughts back to the stranger’s deep thrusts, his filthy commands, the way I had blacked out coming on his cock.

*He was too hot to ignore.*

Maybe one night wasn’t enough after all.