"Life is full of surprises, and one of them is finding the one for you, most unexpectedly."
_Unknown_
Makris Andino's POV
I glanced at my wristwatch. Again.Where am I?
My eyes widened in shock, looking around at the elegant room surrounded by white and brown. The paint on the wall was all white with brown furniture.
This is a hotel. And it's not my room. Why am I even here?
My brain started to process how I got to the hotel. I was drinking downstairs with Ajax and Christos. We celebrated our success of gaining a vast contracted deal with the Alas Werke shipping company from Germany. Ajax received a call from his soon-to-be bride, while Christos's mama called him too. They left even without waiting for the hookers we hired online.
They left, knowing that I had already booked three rooms for our comfort, and also booked an appointment for hookers to come to entertain us.
A few minutes later, I stumbled into a bright room and found a lovely lady with Emerald eyes. She wore Silky emerald nightwear, and her brown hair was in a loose bun. She looked intoxicated, and the first thing that came to my mind was that she was the hooker I had hired.
But they were three. I booked for three. Why is there one here?
But sincerely, she doesn't look like one. I watch her eyes scan me from head to toe then she looks deeply into my eyes.
"Hello, " she smiled at me. The trail of an Italian accent was evident in her voice.
Her voice was warm, and at the same time- Moisturizer- held a string into my ribcage. She has the tiny voice of an Italian opera singer.
But then again. Beauty looks sternly at me as if she recognized me from somewhere, which I clarify as–force.
A few minutes later, I kept quiet, not replying to her. I just scanned through her body figure from her sitting position. She seated like royalty. Imperial born. Beauty crossed her slim shiny legs with Elegances, with her palm- knotted together on the edge of her crossed knee.
I slowly stare at her eyes and watch her stare back through mine. I sit down closer to her with my face plain. Beauty's lips looked small but pulp, a dark peach color. Her eyelid is so damn long. Her eyebrow is so thick and dark and also well caved.
I smiled at her and watched her blink numerously as if to clear her eyes. She reeks of alcohol. Why would beauty intoxicate herself? Is she sad?
"Hello, " I replied with a smiling gesture.
She whiff. She moved her head a bit, knowing that I reeked too of alcohol. She furrows her confused eyebrows at me.
"Why are you here? In my room?" her voice sounds so inactive, so sluggish.
Her accent sounds so warm and relaxing. She sounds like a baby who hasn't yet sucked from her mother's fine breast.
"I'm lost!" I voiced out with a smirk.
"You can't afford me, so leave."
She sounds so authoritative. She sounds like a noble protocol. She sounds like my mother, who seeks so much from her culture and tradition.
I couldn't help but speak. I didn't mind my accent but still, yet, beauty's kind of -aggressive- and I like feisty so damn much. I like my woman to be innocent yet antagonistic and contentious.
"Babygirl. Let me tell you." I smirk. "There is not a single brand I can't afford," I grimaced.
She was gaining grace, seeing a trace of disgust on her face. Unexpectedly. She smiled. I looked confused at her, not knowing what she was thinking.
"Great!" her tongue rolls once more in her accented English.
She suddenly holds my big cold hand on her tiny hand. Her hands are so soft and warm. I'm not going to lie. Immediately she held my hand. I felt a twitch in between my legs.
It was my manhood.
It has been a long. It has been a long time since I got enticed by a specific woman. I am a fucking player, for righteousness' sake. I have arousal by merely looking into her sparkly eyes that were holding in evidence of many secrets. Dark and desirable.
"Emerald eyes!" I let out a whisper.
I don't know who this authoritarian woman is. But all I know is that I want her. I want to devour her every glowing skin, here and now.
I felt connected to her. I felt her power. The powerful effect she has just around her long slim fingers.
The way she looked at me held so much power. Powerful, she has so much dark, squelching, and aching desire. Without much thinking, she abruptly clashes her lip with mine.
Power. Beauty is giving adequate power.
My eyes immediately open wide. I felt all the strong muscles in my body melt. My manhood twitches even more, and it grows more extensive and complicated as beauty devours my lower lips.
Her lips are so tender and warm. Her breath reeks of alcohol, but her lips taste like champagne mixed with cherry. My brain cells instantly took off without much exhilaration. I grab her slender waist so tightly as I devour the moment.
I started kissing her back. I want more of her. I thought silently. Whosoever she is, she just dived into my world. I won't let her go because she tastes my fierce pride. She kissed the ego and pride that made everyone fears me. She kissed my principles out of me.
The lower moan that I was trying to hold still. Beauty, or should I call her emerald- She kissed it out. She was making me want more of her. Who is this woman?
No woman has ever made me moan out like this. I push her lightly to stare at her very well, not forgetting the face without much thinking. I rush her lips again. She slowly unbuttoned my blue linen sleeve. I slowly fall down the tiny hand of her silky emerald nightwear.
I began to caress her body. She was warm, so soft. I mean very quiet. It felt like I was touching wool.
I catch my breath Without much exhilaration. Emerald pushed me back, and we both were breathing hard and panting for breath. With sexy and tipsy eyes. She falls flat on the bed.
She drank too much. I tried to touch her, but I stopped. It wasn't manly of me to touch a woman who didn't permit me to touch her. I fall flat on the bed closer to her. After some minutes of watching her beautiful face, I dozed off too.
Many hours later. I jump up and glance at my wristwatch. Then all the memories of last night came running back to me.
Wasn't it a dream?
I turned quickly to the left side of the bed. Emerald was there. She looked so clean- her skin - so shiny as the ray of the sun reflected on her back, and her brown hair was over the white pillow. She was backing me. I couldn't see her face because of it. She has a little black mark on her left shoulder.
I slowly pick up my phone and take a picture of her back. I zoomed in to see what kind of mark it was. It looks like a birthmark. I didn't want to be disrespectful to her; I didn't bother to wake her up. I got up slowly and gently into the bathroom to shower and wash away my liquor sweat.
After hours, I walk out of the bathroom with the white towel around my waist. With the other white towel, I wipe my hair dry with it. My eyes landed on an empty bed.
She's gone. Is she gone?
I frown. I was looking around the room properly and checking from the window to see emerald from downtown as she boarded a cab. Dammit.
I felt like a woman used me and dumped me. It makes me so frantic and so desperately angry. No woman has ever treated me this way.
Abruptly, my eyes landed on a pile of clean, untouched money. As a businessman, I calculated it by merely looking at it.
One Million Euros.
How the fuck did she, she has so much money. She looks like a low class, but her wording carries power.
Then again, my eyes landed on a small pink note with clean, caved writing. The handwriting looks so unique. It seems so well patterned. It seems so conspicuous. Furthermore, I read.
THIS IS FOR YOU. GOODBYE. WE SHALL NOT MEET AGAIN, NEVER IN THE FUTURE. STUPIDO.
"What?" I frown.
This act sounds so embarrassing, even though her writing and English sound patrician in reading it. She thinks I'm a whore. A male gigolo?
This is not even a pen. Beauty- emerald, didn't write this letter with a pen. It's more like a historical brush and crayon paint but still well-craved.
"Is this money for the night? Is this my charge for the night?" it makes me even more precarious than ever.
Stupido? Did she call me stupid?–Is this letter a provocation?
Good! Great. We shall not meet again, huh? I smirk. I understood full well that emerald had just gotten herself into big trouble.
She dares to provoke my wrath! She dares to stimulate me–Makris Andino–You will come to me again. Whosoever you are. One way or the other.
Me? Makris Ardino. Stupido.
The best solutions are often simple yet unexpected._Julian Casablancas_Lorena's POVArriving home early in the morning, I slowly emerge through the brick wall that leads to the kitchen window with the help of our family cook, Francesca Oriano, a Thirty-one-year-old cook that turns into my best friend and comfort companion. She assists me in climbing up into the kitchen with a tight frown. "Lady Cicero, What made you stay out the whole night?" she frowned. "I had to pretend last night to be you by laying on your bed when your father came in to check up on you." She grimaces even more as she continues. "You'll put me in big trouble very soon." she raised a question."C'mon, Francesca. No one is putting anyone in trouble here. Where is my father?" "In his old study!" she says. "He has been furious since last night after receiving a call from some strange number," she says. "Hmmm. Who dares to anger the king himself." I giggle. "C'mon, you must change before he steps out to see yo
There are always going to be circumstances you can't plan for. There's always the unexpected relevance and the fate._Jason Silva_Lorena Cicero's POV "Can I come in?" I ask from the small opening of the door. Two minutes later."No response?" I open the door gradually. "I am in." I notify whosoever is inside.Where is he? I thought that man said he was inside this office.Suddenly, I started hearing smooching sounds. —wait a minute, is that kissing sound that I'm hearing? I walked in exclusively. "Buon Cielo–" I screamed with my bag falling from my shoulders in uncertainty. "Who's there?" The Voice was rigid and eclectic with irritation. Is he having sex in the office? Is this man? My eyes are still fixed on my catnapped nemesis. Is he a lovemaking maniac? He turned to glare at me with a frown, and it was quickly replaced with a smirk on his corner lips. His eyes are acceptable. But familiarly, he's a perverted man. "Makris. Get her out of here; she's spoiling the fun. Please,
Out of damp and gloomy days, out of solitude, out of loveless words directed at us, conclusions grow up in us like fungus: one morning they are there, we know not how, and they gaze upon us, morose and gray. Woe to the thinker who is not the gardener but only the soil of the plants that grow in him.~ Friedrich Nietzsche~Lorena Ciecro POVIt's not every day that my father, Paolo De'Longhi Cicero, called for me in his old custom traditional book library; it is known by everyone that is connected to the Cicero. It's an old stately home for a chat —And I bet that you won't like to be called into the chat room because it gives chills and unwanted fatherly advice and decision—a place where frustrating choices are made and stamped.My elder sister, Verona, and I knocked on the old thick wooden door to find out. On the second knock, an ancient roman voice was heard."You may enter!" Said the commanding voice in the old roman dialect.Verona looks at me with eyes full of panic, praying to Go
"Those that go searching for love only make manifest their lovelessness, and the loveless never find love, only the loving find love, and they never have to seek for it." ~ D. H. Lawrence~Makris Andino's POVI signed in frustration, gazing at my father, who values outsiders over his very own. Urso Andino. The monarch that rules the generational legacy. I have a crucial meeting throughout today; I had to cancel today's presentation board meeting with the directors from China because my father asked me to do so; he had been chattering for too long, and it got on my nerve sitting close to him because we aren't the conversational companions."Adriano," he calls at the lost-in-thought me. "Are you even listening?" he added.That's what he always calls me, but I don't fancy the name much. It's only who knows me from home that calls me that. But recently, the term has been flying over the tabloids—Who the hell even made it known to the public. "Yes, father!" I turned to stare at him.He f
In times of great stress or adversity, it's always best to keep busy, to plow your anger and your energy into something positive.~Lee Iacocca~Lorena Cicero's POVAfter much thinking about my late mother, Morena Cicero, I felt my heart weaken at the thought of my carbon copy, my very own lookalike. I was getting prepared to go to work in the orphanage since it's in the evening my father's choice will be coming to visit his Unabridged wife. "My lady, where are you going to?" Francesca asked with furrowed eyebrows. Looking at me dressed up in a relaxed state. "Have you forgotten you'll be having visitors today by evening, and your father gave us an instruction not to let you go out today," she added."He said that?" I grimace in shock. "I'm not running; why would I run? When I know that if I run, then I'm forever ruined. So, allow me to go out, please, please, please I need to visit the orphanage before time," I pleaded.Francesca looks deeply into my green eyes. "My lady, promise me
Sometimes life takes you on unexpected paths, and those paths aren't always in the same direction.~Jonathan Scott~Lorena Cicero's POVI'm just so naive. I'm becoming so innocent for being too friendly to others. I'm so silly. I quit the job I like just because of those good-for-nothing frantic. What do I care about, frantic? They are just crazy, now I've to stop attending the orphanage with my appearance, but I won't stop sending gifts and food. Now, I'll triple my donation. This is just so annoying. I grumbled as I walked at the walking path of the street; I couldn't wait for the bus any longer, it was getting late, and I had to be home before my father arrived there before me and sense my absence if not, Francesca will be in trouble for my unhealthy sins. Beep! I flinched at the sound of the honk from a vehicle. But I didn't bother to turn, but it kept on honking nonstop—What fool decided to whirl of my already messed up mental health? Immediately, I turned around. The person i
The most difficult thing is the decision to act, the rest is merely tenacity. The fears are paper tigers. You can do anything you decide to do. You can act to change and control your life; and the procedure, the process is its own reward.~Amelia Earhart~Lorena Cicero's POVWe kissed a lot the first time we met. The voice inside my head had murmured harshly. Fine, I did let him kiss me, but we wouldn't have kissed back, and in my usual state, I wouldn't stoop so low to let a stranger kiss me. How on earth did I permit him to kiss me back? Now, here I am, wondering how the liberties of life could play such a trick on me. Why...? Why did deity play on my weak vitality? He didn't even think twice before he grins at me with his last word hunting me right now. I told you, didn't I? That we were destined to be together!— These were his words, with all full evidence of confidence hanging in the tone of his voice. When he said— Yes, Padre, we have met countless times! And indeed, the Prudi
"Love can start as a war or friendship, but it is better to be pleased than to be displeased about your part of love," ~Unknown~Lorena Cicero POVEntering the luxurious White plus elegant penthouse, I was stopped by a young lady who looked my age—ignoring her as I clipped my gloved palm together. She bows at me slightly."How may I be of help to you?" She asked, looking sternly at me.I looked from her feet back to her face. "And why are you like this?" I asked, looking disgusted by her maid outfit. It looked so seductive, exposing the coverage of her breast slightly. She looks down at herself. "Who are you?" "Who am I?" I looked around once more, then back to her face. "Where is your unflattering boss?" She immediately looks shocked at my face due to my statement. "I'm so sorry, My lady, you must be lady Cicero. The resemblance is true," she bows apologetically."Indeed I am, and what resemblance? If I may ask," I asked, confused."Your sister, I've been seeing her on the tabloi