Chapter 05: My father's friend

/-Miray-/

I opened my eyes to the sight of unfamiliar ceilings, and I squinted against the sudden brightness. But when I tried to move, I realized that my waist was firmly held and my back was pressed against a sturdy and muscular chest. 

The breath against my neck made my skin tingle.

With that, memories of last night crashed into me like a tidal wave, making me stiff.

The darkness, the kisses, the sound I had made, lewd and unrecognizable and how I had repeatedly clung to a man whom I didn't know, sinking into clouds of lust without holding back.

And the temporary mark. My hands flew to my neck where the obvious imprint from bite marks could be seen.

My face alternated between red, white and green, before settling on white. 

I was mortified.

What have I done? How could I…

Carefully, I freed myself from his grasp, slipping free like a ghost and my feet hitting the cold floor without making a sound. 

I scrambled for my clothes, my hands and entire body shaking.

I turned around, barely enough to see his face and my pupils trembled slightly. 

He’s good-looking, so good looking that it doesn’t seem real.

But I didn’t dare linger, afraid my gaze would wake him.

So I fled.

I only managed to find my breath after I stepped out of the hotel and the cold air fanned my face.

I adjusted my dress, telling myself to forget what happened.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s just a temporary mark, it will fade in a few days.” I mumbled to myself, hailed a taxi and left.

“And as for Clarissa…” My gaze turned cold.

…

I stood in the grand ballroom, surrounded by chatters from the guests and the clash of expensive perfume and wine.

It was his birthday banquet, my father’s. A celebration of fifty-three years of existence, and of everything he has built and lost. 

I smoothed down my crimson gown, the color a deliberate choice, bold and nothing like the weak woman I had once been.

And as I walked, eyes turned and whispers followed. 

Then I saw him, Royce.

He was in an immaculate white tuxedo, his black hair neatly styled, making him look like some prince in a fairytale movie. His brown eyes locked onto me with an intensity I would have found thrilling in the past.

But now, it made my skin crawl.

Seeing him again filled me with so much hatred and anger that my breath turned heavy. My hold tightened around my small bag, knuckles turning white.

He approached me quickly, mild surprise flickering in his eyes when his gaze landed on me.

“Miray,” His voice was urgent. “I have been trying to reach you but it keeps going to voicemail. And your step-mother said you’ve been…”

I pulled my hand back before he could reach me, my eyes cold and my voice dismissive. “I have been busy.”

“Busy? Or angry?”

I didn’t answer.

His face shifted into that of frustration, “Look, things are not like how the media made it look. That picture that went viral was a mistake, the woman was my client…”

“You were hugging your client?” I repeated, a hint of sarcasm dripping from my voice.

He quickly shook his head, his brown eyes desperate in an attempt to explain himself, “No, I was just…”

“You don’t have to explain, I don’t care.”

“You…don’t?”

“Should I?” I met his gaze with a sarcastic smile on my face, deliberately raising my voice. “We’re not engaged, we are not even dating, so why should I care about what you do?”

Yes. In the past, he never asked me out, but I just assumed we were dating, how utterly stupid. I had seen all the signs, yet, I kept finding excuses for him.

Around us, the whispers grew and I could feel the curious eyes on us.

“Miray, listen to me. We can talk about this, our relationship shouldn’t be affected because of this trivial matter.” He reached for me again and my visage turned dark.

“Do not touch me.” My voice was low, but thick with warning, and his hand froze midair.

“You think you can simply walk in here,” I continued, my voice passing through each corners of the ballroom. “in front of these distinguished guests, and act as though we share something worth acknowledging?” 

A cold, derisive laugh left my lips. “You are nothing but a second son, clinging desperately to your brother’s shadow. You have no power, no influence and no claim at anything. And yet, you have the audacity to lay claim over me, especially when you’ve already been sharing someone else’s bed?”

With that said, I retrieved the pictures I had already prepared and threw it right at his face. The pictures flew in the air before landing on the floor like damning confetti, each one a knife aimed at Royce’s carefully constructed facade.

A half-naked photo of Royce with his lips on his ‘client’s’ neck. Another showing him exchanging a kiss with another woman. Each perfectly capturing his twisted countenance, different from the gentleman he showed to others.

The ballroom fell into a pindrop silence, then a collective gasp echoed through the crowd.

“Oh my goodness! I thought they were in a relationship but it seems he has been cheating.”

“A scumbag, indeed. No wonder she’s not giving him face.”

“Tsk, he still has the audacity to face her?”

“Abusing the Alpha’s authority, I know the likes of him.”

I watched as Royce’s face twisted, and turned flushed with anger and the weight of the humiliation.

“Miray, you are making a scene. Let’s speak in private…”

I didn’t move. “You are not welcome here and you will leave before I have the security escort you out.”

He raised his voice, fist tightly clenched, “You don’t speak to me…”

“Can’t I?” I cut him short. “You are not even the first heir, but a parasite pretending to be something he’s not. And everyone here knows it. So, why can’t I?”

Royce’s eyes burned with fury, and something cold and cruel flashed in his eyes, very close to the expression he had on when he pulled the trigger that time, but it vanished quickly.

He wanted to say something else, but when he glanced around and noticed the eyes on us, he thought otherwise.

“We’ll talk when you are thinking clearly, Miray.” He said, then turned to leave.

I watched him leave, my expression unreadable. This was just the beginning, I had not even started yet.

The game had only just begun.

“Miray.”

I raised my head at the sound of my name, seeing my father approaching with a smile on his face. He must have seen the scene earlier.

“I have someone I would like you to meet.”

“Oh?”

I was surprised.

This didn’t happen in my past life.

He led me forward and towards a tall man who had his back turned towards us.

“Lysander.”

Then the man slowly turned.

And my breath hitched.

Dark hair, sleek and neatly styled to the back, with a small strand left to frame his forehead. A face that seemed to be carved from marble, hard lines and cold angles.

He was handsome, but in a way that screamed danger.

And those eyes…

It made my blood run cold.

Grey.

Pale and piercing, seemingly capable of seeing through me. 

It’s him, it’s him!

“Miray, meet Lysander. My close friend from back in the days, he just returned to the pack and he will be staying with us for a while.”

A shudder went through me when his gaze swept over me.

The man I had just had a one night stand with, was my father’s friend?