Lila

CHAPTER ONE : Lila’s POV 

“What the—”

A loud bang pushed me forward and I hit my head on the seat in front of me while my driver released strings of curses in Spanish.

“I’m really sorry my lady, the drivers here stupid. Airport people rough, stupid. Me no speed. You wound? Me really sorry.”

He was still apologizing when he opened his door to go check the damage on his car, and things got even worse.

I bent to pick up my phone when he and the other driver started shouting at each other in Spanish, and before I knew it they were exchanging blows.

Of all times to be stuck in traffic while your driver chose to be a boxer. Friday night shouldn’t even be the night.

My twin brother’s big day is tomorrow morning and I need to prep and sleep early so I can make it for his pregame rituals, and now it’s past 8pm and I’m nowhere close to my destination.

I tried opening my door. I’m better off booking another ride at this point, then I realized the doors were locked. All the doors. And my driver’s head is currently hooked under the arm of the Uber driver he was wrestling with. I can’t even walk off or call out to him. What have I done to myself?

My phone beeped just then. It’s Richy asking if I’m at the hotel yet, meanwhile I’m still stuck at the airport entrance and my head is banging from the impact against the headrest and the jet lag stress from earlier.

No. I typed a single word response because I can’t even begin to explain the situation I landed myself in, when I could’ve just followed the staff bus earlier. But because the boys would be noisy and I wanted to keep my low profile, I opted out of the staff ride and the hotel room, and now this.

Leo’s call came immediately after.

“My favorite girl. Let me guess, you’re currently soaking in the tub to ease your soft bones,” his voice came teasingly over the phone.

“I wish,” I groaned dramatically.

“What’s wrong? You sound exhausted.”

“Maybe because I’m still at the airport and my driver is busy wrestling.”

“Hold on. Start from the top.”

So I did, and by the time I was done he was more concerned about my safety and volunteered to come pick me up with a friend’s bike. Typical me, I refused.

“Not when you have your biggest game tomorrow. What if something goes wrong? You should be busy strategizing beating that arrogant pig on ice tomorrow.”

“I will definitely whoop the pig’s ass, but let’s focus on you getting out of the mess you’re in.”

I didn’t let him stress himself, because honestly I’d prefer him well rested for tomorrow. The arrogant pig we both hate so much is no other person than Zeek Marlow, the most arrogant, rude, and tricky person on earth, and I’m not even kidding.

He’s always found a way to get my brother a red card before his most important games, and he keeps doing it on purpose because Leo is his only worthy opponent. For the first time in three years, despite Zeek Marlow trying his best, my brother somehow made it to the finals, and I’m definitely not letting this chance slip out of his hands just because I’m stuck in traffic.

I’d rather sleep overnight here and have him make it to the finals than risk anything happening.

Three hours later, approximately midnight, I finally got to the hotel, and to my greatest displeasure all the rooms are fully booked, including the one I booked ahead. They gave me a polite sorry and refunded my money, and now I’m stuck again, so I had to do what I hate doing.

Use family connections.

I called Richy again. After all, he owns this hotel and three other main hotels in the city. He put me on hold to call his assistant, and a few minutes later, miraculously, there was an empty room. 109.

There was no bell boy in sight and I had no plan to use my connections any further, so I dragged my box after me. My headache was even more intense and very painful at this point, I couldn’t mask the wince clouding my face as I made it to the third floor.

I was still massaging my temple while battling my box and my tote bag when I looked to the side and saw room 109, but the 9 was angled awkwardly. I had no strength left to question the absurdity of it. I tried fishing for the keys in my bag when the door opened on its own as I rested against it.

Maybe they left it open on purpose since they knew I was coming, I thought to myself as I made my way inside.

It was dark, which was less pressure on my headache, so I dumped the bag on the nearest space, and my box by the door, while I made my way to the adjoined bedroom.

I started with my kitten heels, then my stockings, as well as my underwear and full clothes, and then I was buck naked.

I just need to rest my head for like ten minutes, then I’ll get up to shower, I promised myself as I slipped under the duvet and let it swallow me whole.

Minutes later, I came back to reality as soon as a very cold and very male body touched mine under the duvet.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“What the fuck is this?”

We both screamed and scrambled for the nearest clothing item.

I was the first to run out of the room, dragging the heavy duvet after me, as I opened the main door to scream for help.

Who the fuck invades a stranger’s room in the middle of the night?

I opened the door and the flash of dozens of cameras and paparazzi had me slamming it back immediately.

“What the fuck is wrong with everyone, and why is the fucking paparazzi at my door?”