2: A Two-for-one Deal

CIARA

A chill ran down my spine, so sharp I instinctively clapped my hand over my ear as he straightened up, a smirk curling his lips. He looked pleased with himself, annoyingly so. My mouth couldn’t help but fall open as I felt the heat flooding into my cheeks, burning all the way down to my collarbone.

He wasn’t joking; the intensity of his gaze made that clear. Just like that, I felt a faint, sinking feeling in my stomach, the kind you get right before a rollercoaster drops. 

And if I actually agreed to his crazy idea, I just knew it would put my life into a spiral of chaos.

This man was downright unhinged; his obsessions ran deep, particularly his fixation on becoming the heir of Valentino Enterprises. He was the kind of person who would stop at nothing to achieve his desires, the sort who would bulldoze anyone daring enough to stand in his path.

Yet, I was actually considering it. Despite everything I knew, part of me wanted to agree to his suggestion.

“Just imagine how miserable Austin would be once he learned you were fucking his older brother… His rival.” Rowan went on, his smirk deepening as he watched me try to process it all. 

He was enjoying this, probably more than he should. After all, to him, this was just another game.

And the thing was, he wasn’t doing this to actually help me. He was doing this to ruin Austin. The fact that it would serve as my revenge was just a bonus—a two-for-one deal.

“Let’s drink first, and I’ll decide once my mind gets adjusted to all this,” I said, brushing past him and heading for the hotel bar.

Good thing I was wearing a decent black satin nightgown and robe, not pajamas, so I didn’t look shabby for the ambiance.

Well, I should have been in my room, face buried in my pillow, tears soaking the sheets. But the thought of drinking and talking to Rowan was so much more appealing than curling up and drowning in the memory of Austin’s betrayal.

When we settled at the counter, Rowan ordered a glass of vodka for both of us. He didn’t even have the consideration to ask me what I wanted, like my preferences didn’t matter. But honestly, I didn’t care anymore.

Right now, I needed something sharp and strong, anything to scrape away the sting inside me, numb everything, stop my mind from circling back to what I’d discovered before my wedding.

However, the effort was futile. No matter how many glasses I finished, no matter how hard I tried to block everything out, the images and words from earlier kept looping in my head.

Each time, it stung even more. Too fresh, too raw…It was just too much.

If it had been another woman, maybe I could have handled it. Maybe the blow wouldn’t have landed quite so hard. But no, Austin just had to choose my stepmother, of all people.

Why her? Why the woman my father had cherished so deeply, the one who had pulled him from the depths of despair after losing my mother to cancer?

Back then, I’d worried about losing my father, too. The way he fell apart after my mother’s death, the way the house seemed hollow and quiet. But somehow, three years later, he started coming back to life. Then out of nowhere, he introduced Yuri to me, a woman who was only six years older than me, as his new girlfriend.

At first, I didn’t like the idea since she and my father had a 18 years age gap, thinking she was only after my father’s wealth; not only that, but the thought of someone close to my age becoming my stepmother felt all kinds of wrong.

But then I saw it: the way my father looked at her, the way he smiled again. And slowly, I gave in. I learned to accept Yuri because she was kind and sweet—or so I thought. 

All of that was just a facade. She was a freaking snake. She pretended to love my father, pretended to love me, and in the end, she betrayed us both in the cruelest way imaginable.

“Fuck,” I muttered, the word heavy as I set my glass down hard enough to make it thud against the counter. Rowan, still silent beside me, didn’t even flinch. Maybe he understood. Maybe he was waiting for me to crack.

I could already feel regret pooling in the back of my mind, but right now, I needed something stronger than alcohol, something to drown out the ache and the memory of what Yuri and Austin had done. I needed to escape, a greater distraction, even if it was just for a little while.

“Let’s do it,” I finally said, my voice a little rough, causing Rowan’s gaze to snap to mine. He didn’t look surprised. He just finished his drink in one long gulp, never looking away from me, then set his empty glass down.

“Smart choice,” he said, his mouth curling into a smirk before he slid off his barstool and spoke quietly to the bartender, telling him to put our drinks on his tab. Then, without another word, he reached for my hand.

I let him. Maybe I wanted him to take the lead.

“Let’s go,” 

We walked to the elevator together, silent, the kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled. I didn’t even try to make small talk. Rowan didn’t either.

When the doors opened, and we stepped inside, he pressed the button for his floor without hesitation. No asking, no second-guessing. That was just like him.

And as soon as we entered his room, his hands were on my waist, pinning me to the wall so fast it stole the breath from my lungs.

I stared up at him, eyes wide, my entire body going rigid. As if that wasn’t enough, I could feel the heat radiating from him, and in that moment, he looked at me like I was prey, like he’d been waiting for this all his life.

“Open your mouth,” he said, his voice low and desperate in a way that almost scared me. It made my heart hammer in my chest, making it hard to breathe, but somehow, I found myself nodding, parting my lips, slow and unsure.

As if on cue, Rowan’s hand slid up, fingers grazing the side of my neck, and then his tongue was in my mouth, coaxing it open even further. 

The sensation made me shiver.

“Mmmn.” I couldn’t help the sound that slipped out, my eyes closing as my hips arched toward him. His other hand then pressed into my waist, steady and warm. Before I realized it, my hands were already resting on his broad shoulders, clutching at his white shirt as my nails dug into the fabric like a lifeline.

He wasn’t gentle. That should have been a warning, or at least a deterrent, but instead, something about the roughness pulled me in. It was overwhelming, not just in the way it made my body react, but in the way it scattered my thoughts.

That was the point, after all: to get lost in all this, to let it drown out everything else.

If someone had told me even a month ago that I’d end up like this with Rowan, I would have laughed in their face. But here we were, and it wasn’t as awful as I expected it to be. Perhaps because it was such an unexpected and abrupt development.

“Should we take a video of us fucking?” he suddenly suggested as he pulled out, the string of our saliva connecting us like an elastic band until they finally broke.

“Are you insane?” The words came out sharper than I’d intended, and for a moment, I wondered if it was pointless to even ask. Of course, he was insane; he was the epitome of unhinged. “You think we’re in some kind of porno right now?”

Rowan just shrugged, like it was the most natural reaction at the moment.

“No, not that. I was just thinking we could send it to Austin,” he said, as if the answer was obvious and not completely deranged. “You know, to get him all riled up.”

I looked at him, genuinely trying to understand the way his mind worked.

“You really think that’s a good idea?” I glared at him before giving him a slight push, just enough to put a safe distance between us. “Congratulations, you officially ruined the mood. I’m going back to my room.”

“What? That’s it? You’re bailing?” His eyebrows shot up, like he couldn’t believe it. Was he disappointed? It almost sounded like it.

“I made an impulsive decision, so yes, that’s it.” I could practically hear the regret in my own voice as I grabbed the doorknob. “And I have a wedding to attend tomorrow; I need to sleep.”

“And you think you can do that?” He scoffed, and just as I was about to open the door, Rowan pressed his hand against the wood, shutting it with a firmness that left no room for argument. I could feel him behind me, the space suddenly too small.

“You’re really just going to walk away? No revenge?” His voice was lower now, almost a whisper, but I heard every word. The heat of his chest radiated through his shirt, his breath stirring the hair near my ear. “I told you, leaving him at the altar isn’t enough. You need something bigger. Something that’ll actually hurt. And the only way to do that is to fuck me, to form an alliance with me.”

It was tempting, yes, to listen to the way he phrased it. To join his game. But as much as it might have appealed to my desperation, I knew making another impulsive decision wouldn’t end well.

Not for me. Not for anyone. And especially not for my sanity.