Chapter 2: Four Years Later

(Stephen's POV)

The desire to ease my sexual tensions engulfed me as I climbed out of bed, stepping carefully on the shards of alcohol bottles lying on the floor, and darted to the bathroom for a warm quick bath.

After I was done bathing, I scurried back to the bedroom and ransacked the whole closet for something to wear to the whore house.

I could have phoned my "special maids" who always ensured they satisfied my sexual cravings in the process of dressing me up, but I was tired of grabbing the same backsides and tangerines every day.

I wanted someone new. Someone different like a wild slut out there.

Finally, I donned blue jeans and a black hoodie, accentuating it with a black face cap, and smirked at the mirror for the umpteenth time.

As I tilted over the shoe rack to pick my favorite pair of black sneakers, my phone began to ring incessantly and I was forced to straighten upright and fetch the phone which was at the extreme end of the bed.

"Good evening, sir." My secretary's voice came on the other end as soon as I struck the green button.

"You weren't taught in school that it isn't courtesy to call someone more than twice!" I berated.

"I'm sorry, sir. Something came up just as we were about to close, and the directors said it's a must if you're at the board meeting which would start in fifteen minutes time."

"This evening?"

"Yes, sir."

The urge to be under a fleshy duvet and being ridden like a bicycle was the only thing on my mind and not being in a useless meeting with those scumbags who didn't respect my dad and were planning to take over his company when he was alive.

"I have an important thing to attend to. Tell Antonio to handle whatever happens for me."

"B–but sir, Sir. Antonio is busy, and it seems it's you the directors–"

"Are you the CEO or me?! If you do not wish to lose your job today, stay away from my line throughout tonight!" I bellowed as I disconnected the call, switched off my phone, and flung it on the bed.

Right away, I took my wallet, my mask, and my car key and flounced out of the mansion.

*********

"Serve me the usual," I ordered the bartender as he hastily nodded and prepared three shots of tequila, ignoring those who were already in the queue before me.

"Here is it, sir," he replied in his Spanish accent.

I exhausted the shots with a gulp and ordered again. "I need ten more."

I needed more as there was this anger arousing in me that I wanted to subside, and I wanted to get ready for any slut or sluts that came my way too.

The bartender pierced his gaze at me and I knew what it meant. He wouldn't have sold it if I were another person, but I was the regular "masked" customer who always paid more than I bought. So… he had no choice.

"You should have them."

As I took the last out of the ten shots, I belched, darting my eyes across every corner, and leaned over the bar table when I felt uncomfortable.

"Where are they? Only my gender is here."

"Ohh... That... they went off today?"

"What?! You mean the whores won't be here this evening?" I screeched and I felt the daggers glared at me by those present.

"Yes, sir."

Does this mean I came here for nothing? No! Never!! This couldn't be. There was no way I could calm myself with the shots I'd taken.

More so, I needed to release the semen building up in my semi-engorged cock inside a warm wet hole.

Turning my neck to the bartender, I growled, "Get the heck out of that place, and find me, someone!!"

Everyone gasped at the audacity I exuded, and the bartender also recoiled at the tone of my voice.

"I can't sir, I'm on duty–"

I fumed with rage, about to flip over the bar table to teach him a lesson for declining my order when I felt a petite hand wrapped around my neck.

OMG! The touch was so feminine, and my body jolted with pangs of electricity the moment she curled her other hand around my member which made it spring up to live FULLY.

"Gimme money. Let's go to the inner chamber!" cooed the strange woman who had a bag clung to her shoulder with an American intonation.

I smiled despite the way she reeked of alcohol and desperation, and her hair – which I wasn't sure of the color because of the dim light – was entangled in a mess.

"I swear I've never seen her here before," the bartender uttered when I gave him the look of "Didn't you say no one was available?"

Taking a second glance at the lady who staggered to reach out for my hands and placed them on her succulent boobs, I believed the bartender because her dress wasn't typical of a slut.

Who wears a trouser in a whorehouse?

There were many odd things noticeable about this lady, but my eyes and my heart were clouded due to her magnetic touches. No woman aside from my ex had made me feel this way before.

"Key?" I beckoned the bartender and he handed me the keys to my usual room.

Up to the task, I tilted my spine, lifted her into my arms, and carried her into the room. She murmured incoherently and sweetly, her hands hung on my neck.

When we got inside and I placed her down, she took my lips into hers and winked at me seductively. This lady sucked the hell out of my tongue and moaned into my mouth which made me hanker for more.

Without breaking the contact, she located my hardened rod...

AND THE PLEASURABLE BATTLE BEGAN.

*******

Kendall's POV

"Ouch!" I writhed in pain as the rays of sunlight flickered through the curtains directly on my swollen eyeballs.

"Where am I?" I muttered, using my right finger to support my aching neck and I struggled to get out of the average-sized bed.

The last thing I remembered was rushing Laura, one of my triplets to the hospital and ending up in the whorehouse because I needed money to sort out her bills.

Everything that happened after I took some bottles of rum was blank in my head and I prayed I didn't commit a crime.

Forgetting my body aches, I screeched in excitement when I darted my eyeballs to the left side and saw money scattered on the bed with a note beside it.

It read. "Had a great time with you. This is your pay."

Instantly, I shoved the money into my bag and rushed to the bathroom to empty my bowels and also took a proper bath.

As I stepped out to wear my clothes which were lying on the marble floor, a small piece of a rectangular object that looked like a wallet caught my attention.

Indeed, it was a wallet.

'It must be from the man from the previous day. I wasn't even chanced to see who he was,' I thought as I picked it up and opened it.

"Waaaohh," I shouted as my jaws ran slack, and the wallet fell from my fingers which quivered with anxiety.

I gasped, covering my mouth and trying to regain my composure when my brain calculated the total sum of Pesos stacked in the wallet I believed would be enough to take care of my triplets' hospital bills.

Ever since I was betrayed and had started my life afresh in Mexico, life had neither been easy nor rosy for me and my kids. No company wanted to employ me because I didn't have anything to prove that I studied marketing.

Frederick had burnt everything I ever went to school for.

I strove hard and harder but misfortunes kept befalling me who was then heavy with pregnancy. I couldn't even register for antenatal. At some point, I prayed to God to take my life and relieve me of pain.

Eight months later, I was in labor on the street at night when an old samaritan ran into me. She was Gabriella Prez, a newly retired nurse.

Gabriella, despite being poor like a church rat, took me into her small home where I delivered my triplets and she provided shelter for me till date.

Jolting myself out of the past, I pondered on what to do and I picked up the wallet again, studying the ID card I found in there.

His name was Stephen Esteban DeLaCruz (which somewhat rang a bell in my ears but I shrugged it off) and other details weren't filled in, including his home address. Weird ID!

I thought I'd have returned if I knew his address but who cared about where he lived as long as we'd never meet again? He probably had more money and this meant nothing to him.

Aside from that, this was only a nightstand and chances were that I'd never pass this route again.

Instantly, I changed into the faded blue jeans and ash t-shirt I had been repeating for days and dashed out of the whorehouse after shoving the wallet in my bag.

I boarded a cab to the hospital and got there in ten minutes. As I rushed in and waved at the two nurses at the reception, one of them beckoned me to come over.

"Why would this woman bring her children to a private hospital when she's too poor to sort out the bills?" asked (in a whisper) the robust ogre sitting at the left side as I approached them.

My forehead creased with dejection and I hung my head using a style to wipe the tears that formed at the corner of my eyeballs.

Still, I greeted the receptionists and as usual, they didn't acknowledge me. Lifting my chin, I met with their withering stares.

"She was meant to close her legs."

"You are Kendall Hart, right?" the white nurse with flat unequal nostrils and bulgy eyes inquired.

"Yes I am," I replied, trying to brace myself up.

"The doctor said you should see him whenever you're around," she affirmed as she rolled her eyes at me.

"Okay. Thanks"

I was about to take my leave when she halted me in my tracks again.

"Mrs. Hart, are you not ashamed of this life you are giving these innocent kids? I'm sorry to say but you don't deserve to be a mother at all."

"Why would you copulate to the extent that you give birth to three children when you know you'd render their lives useless?" she spat in her Spanish accent and tears flowed down my soft cheeks.

I was bereft of words and I felt my heart shattered into pieces. How would I let these people know it wasn't my fault but Love's? Love blinded me and turned me into a pauper.

"I am not being nosy but…" she paused and leaned forward over the desk, "Why don't you put them up for adoption? I feel orphanage homes would treat them much better."

"You just spoke my mind, Nurse Alicia," the robust woman who had talked earlier supported her.

My heart sank and I felt terrible as they talked thrash. I guess they were right because I saw no essence of being a mother when her triplets were there on the sick bed fighting for their lives and she could barely do anything to save them.

"Thank you." I snorted and proceeded to the doctor's office.

"Good morning, doctor," I greeted as he let me in and offered me a seat."

"Good morning Ken. Were you crying?" he inquired in a friendly tone after studying my swollen face which appeared as if I was punched very hard. He had always been friendly save for the two nurses he employed at the reception.

"I'm fine. Thank you.""

"Alright, I told the nurses to call you in whenever you come through and thankfully, you are here now."

I gave him a nod which meant that he should proceed. "I want to inform you that Laura, your daughter, has recovered very fast and she is ready to be discharged after you make the payment."

"Thank you, doctor, I will make the payments today.

"Great!"

A deep exhalation escaped through my lungs as I inquired about my other kids.

"How about Claura and Flora?"

"Those two are the main reason I wanted to see you."

"Okay?"

"We thank God, both of them are already responding to treatment but you have to arrange the surgery fee within the stipulated period unfailingly. Failure to do that before then... It's only by God's miracle they'll survive."

A bead of tears streamed down my face and my heart capsized like the Titanic boat. Why did this have to happen to me?

"It will be well, Mrs. Hart," he comforted me and offered me a tissue paper to wipe away my tears. "Tears don't solve anything, they only damage the system when you shed them too much "

In a croaky tone, I spoke, "Thank you very much, doctor. I'll go make the payment for Laura and I'll also make some deposits for the surgery fees."

"Great! You'll be making the payment at the reception and these are the prescribed drugs for Laura. You can get them at the pharmacy," he declared as he handed over to me the prescription sheet.

"Thank you."

Immediately after I exited the doctor's office and was making the payment to the "gossips" who were surprised at how I got money, the sound emitting from the TV in the reception made my heart skip a beat.

I gulped the saliva that formed in my mouth as the news reporter reported about a missing wallet that belonged to someone named,

"...Stephen Esteban DeLaCruz."

Wait?! That name... What have I done?!!

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Hi, there!!

I hope you've been enjoying this story so far. Tell me what you feel about it.

Don't leave me as we go on this journey together... And don't hesitate to communicate with me at all times. I'm going to love it.😍

Xoxo, Qietah♥️