Chapter Two

Instead of heading back right away, she showed her hotel keycard and asked the receptionist to borrow a phone. Thankfully Furina recalled all of her friends’ phone numbers but she knew only Tiffany would answer her phone in a flash so that was whom she was calling.

“Hello?”

“Tiff?”

“Oh my gosh? Furina?” There was a split moment of shock before she heard Tiffany saying, “Sshhh, guys, stop, stop, Furina is calling me.” Clearly, she was informing the other three to shut up. “I’m putting you on speaker phone. Where on Earth are you? Are you alright? We’ve been frantically worried.”

“I’m alright.” She bit her bottom lip, knowing that she wasn’t completely being honest. What had happened last night, her vague memories, and furthermore, that French man’s insulting words this morning were way too much for a girl. “I think I’ve lost my purse along with my phone.”

“Yeah, I know. We found it at the club. The bartender said you must’ve left it when you went to the loo but you never came back so he kept it for you.”

Images of a dimly lit corridor leading to the bathroom entered her mind. Her head still couldn’t remember the French man’s face but she recalled meeting him on her way to the loo on that corridor. She’d bumped into him in her rush to pee and he had caught her, preventing her from plowing her head onto the floor.

“Furina? You still there?”

“Yeah, sorry. Where are you guys? Maybe I can meet you there?”

“Or we can come to get you since you don’t have your purse or phone,” said Harrod, always the smart one.

That was actually the most sensible suggestion. However, she wasn’t sure how her friends like react if they knew she was in a hotel. And evidently, she must’ve been with someone, how else she was able to secure a room without so much as an ID card and a credit card?

“Um, can I speak to Tiffany and Lizzy?”

“Huh?” Tomasso sounded confused but her girlfriends understood the cue. It was girl business.

“Alright, lads, go tell that police officer that we’ve found our friend,” said Tiffany in her usual bossy tone. The boys complained but they obliged. “Okay, Vee, it’s just me and Liz here. What’s up?”

“I’m actually in a hotel right now.” Before her friends could say anything, she quickly added, “I know, I know, it’s so scandalous and stupid of me. I drink a lot and didn’t think too much.”

“Hey, it’s alright as long as you’re okay,” said Lizzy.

“You are okay, right?” asked Tiffany, making sure.

“Yes and no. Gosh I want to see you both so I can tell you what happened.”

“Then how about we meet you there?”

Furina stared anxiously down at the floor. She hadn’t even gotten the chance to wear her shoes properly. “But Harrod and—“

“Oh don’t worry, we’ll ditch the boys then come and meet you there. We’ll bring your purse and phone too.”

“Thank you, loves!” Having her friends coming over certainly brightened up her mood. She informed her of the hotel’s name and address.

In less than fifteen minutes, both Lizzy and Tiffany arrived and the three of them were at the dining room of the five stars hotel.

“That bloody bastard!” said Tiffany, not bothering to lower her voice once Furina had finished informing them of what had happened, or what she had believed had happened. Only time could bring back her memories. “Tell me which one is him and I’ll smack his head alright.”

“Calm down.” Lizzy put her hand on top of Tiffany’s on the table. “She did say she can’t remember.”

“Still. I can’t just let him do that to her and then degrade her like that! Is he a man or an arsehole?” Tiffany huffed then jabbed the cake she’d ordered to accompany her coffee rather violently.

Furina looked at the poor strawberry shortcake and an idea popped inside her head. “You know what, I’ve got an idea. I think I know how to get back at him.” She looked up to meet Lizzy and Tiffany’s eyes and a smile began to form on her lips.

The revenge plan began by spending so much at the hotel. Using the hotel keycard, all the bills would pile up into the hotel bills. The three of them had spent a lavish lunch, followed by a trip to the hotel’s spa facility, and then they made some purchases at the hotel’s gift shop and boutiques. Around three in the evening, Furina inserted the hotel keycard into a small envelope along with ‘that’s for being a dickhead’ written on a post-it note. She handed the envelope to the receptionist and asked for it to be sent to the suite where she’d left that French man this morning.

“Payback never tasted this good,” said Lizzy as she stretched her body once they stepped out of the hotel’s huge lobby. “I think my masseuse just got me pregnant.”

There was a moment of utter silence before Tiffany broke it. “We should get you to the nearest drugstore and buy the morning after pill, Vee. ASAP.”

Furina bobbed her head and tried to swallow the sheer panic inside of her. She was also hoping that she wouldn’t get any disease from that French man. God knows how many women that French man had been with…

👠👠👠

Unbeknownst to her, a tall, well-built figure was looming over the railing of the second floor and looking down at the lobby. He was watching the petite little girl giggling with her group of friends.

“Monsieur Neuvillette,” greeted a small voice that he was too familiar with.

Without sparing a look, he asked, “Qu’est-ce?” (“What is it?”)

Instead of answering his question, the small man behind him moved forward and handed him a small envelope. He let go of the envelope and bowed. With a furrow of his brows, he opened the intriguing envelope and pulled out a hotel keycard along with a note. It didn’t take him long to read what was written there.

He tossed the hotel card carelessly while the small man behind him scrambled to the floor to catch it. The written note, however, was a souvenir he’d like to keep with him. “Intéressant,” he muttered under his breath and tapped a soft kiss on the note between his forefinger and middle finger. (“Interesting”)

“À une prochaine fois, Belle.” (“Until we meet again, Beautiful”)

He savored the feeling of the paper feathering his top lip for another moment before taking out his wallet and slipping the small paper inside. Letting out an exasperated sigh, he closed his eyes briefly and opened them as he turned to the small man who looked far too afraid to stare at anywhere else other than the ground between his shoes.

“Alors où est ce salaud?” And when, instead of giving him the answer he wanted, the small man only looked up and frowned. His jaw tightened and he reiterated one more time but in English, the small man’s native language. “Where the hell is the bastard?”