Chapter 03: Used

RYDER’S POV

I woke to silence and an empty bed. Sunlight cut through the half-open curtains and landed on the rumpled sheets where Andrea had slept. I reached out instinctively. Cold. She had been gone for a while. I sat up slowly, my head clear despite the whiskey from last night. Every detail remained sharp in my mind.

I glanced toward the bathroom. The door stood open. There was no light, no sound of running water. Nothing. I dropped back against the pillows and dragged a hand down my face, then pushed it through my hair. What the hell had I done?

I remembered everything. The way she had pressed against me in the elevator, bold and desperate. Her voice in my ear demanding my name. The taste of her skin. The sounds she made when I buried my face between her thighs. How she had begged me to nut inside her and held me there until I did. Her wild laugh afterward, like something had finally broken free in her.

And now she had vanished.

I turned my head and spotted it on the nightstand. A small stack of cash and a folded note. I picked it up. Her handwriting was neat, almost too casual.

Thanks for last night. Consider this my share for the room.

—Andrea

I stared at the words until they blurred. She had left money. Like I was some service she had paid for and walked away from. No number, no last name. Just thanks and gone. A bitter laugh escaped me. In all my years, no woman had ever treated me like this. They chased. They lingered. They hoped for more. But Andrea had fucked me senseless, thanked me, and disappeared.

I swung my legs off the bed and stood. My body still carried marks from her nails. The memory of her tight heat clenched around me sent a fresh wave of heat through my blood. Who was she? And why the hell did her note sting more than it should?

I grabbed the hotel phone and dialed the front desk. It rang once.

“Good morning, Mr. Santos,” the receptionist answered immediately, voice polished and alert. “How can I help you this morning, sir?”

So much for keeping things quiet. Everyone in this building knew exactly who owned it.

“The woman who came up with me last night,” I said, keeping my tone even. “Did you see her leave?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I only started my shift two hours ago. The night receptionist has already gone home. Is there a problem?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “No problem. But what happened in this suite last night stays here. Am I understood?”

“Perfectly, Mr. Santos.”

I hung up and paced to the window. Andrea could be anyone. A reporter. Someone looking for a story. Or just a heartbroken woman who had used me the same way life had used her. The thought unsettled me. I was not used to being the one left wondering.

I tucked the note and the cash into my wallet. I would deal with that later. Right now I needed to move. A hot shower helped wash away the scent of her, but it did nothing to erase the images burned into my brain. I dressed in a fresh charcoal suit from the closet I kept here and headed down to the garage.

As I drove toward Santos Global, the memories I had tried to drown last night came flooding back. Elena. My wife of five years. The woman I had trusted with everything. And Dante, the man I had called brother since college. I had not believed the first headlines. Not until I walked into our penthouse and found them in our bed. Naked, tangled, still breathing hard. The look on Dante’s face when he saw me would stay with me forever. Shock, then nothing. There was no real guilt.

I had walked out without a word. One more fight and I would have done something I could not take back. Something like six years ago. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. I refused to go down that road again. So I had come to my club instead, ordered a drink, and tried to forget. Then Andrea had crashed into my night like lightning.

She had been running from her own betrayal. A boyfriend of four years proposing to her best friend at her own birthday party. The pain in her eyes had been real and raw. I understood it too well.

I pulled into the underground parking lot at Santos Global. The moment I stepped out of the car, everything shifted. The man who had held Andrea while she laughed disappeared. The mask I wore for the world slid back into place. Cold, controlled, and untouchable.

Employees straightened when they saw me, conversations died, and heads bowed. “Good morning, Mr. Santos,” they murmured as I passed. I gave a single nod and kept walking.

At the executive floor my assistant, Clara, waited with a tablet in hand. She looked nervous.

“The media team is already assembled in the boardroom, sir. The story is everywhere. Stock is down four percent already.”

“Get the legal team on the phone too,” I said. “And inform the Public Relations Team that the meeting slated for 11 am will be held by 9 am. Santos Global don’t have all the time in the world to spare. I want this mess fixed immediately. ”

Clara nodded quickly. “Understood.”

Just as she turned to leave I called her back.

“Ms. Hans. Inform Freddy that I will be available to see him in two hours,” I said, checking my watch for confirmation. “Remind him to bring the divorce papers.”

“Yes, sir,” she said.

I continued to the boardroom. Inside, the team stood when I entered. I took my seat at the head of the table and scanned their faces. Fear, respect. Good.

“What is the latest update on this scandal?” I asked them.

“Sir, we are still working on getting the articles and misinformation scraped out of the media,” the head of the PR team responded.

“I want every article reframed,” I said. “Focus on the fact that my wife and former friend acted alone. Santos Global has no connection with their nonsense. Spin it, pay what you need to pay, threaten what you need to threaten. Just make the noise stop.”

They jumped into action, throwing out strategies. I listened with half an ear. My mind kept drifting back to that note in my wallet. Thanks for last night. The words irritated me more every time I thought about them. She had taken what she wanted and left me with questions I had no business asking. Where did she go?

I leaned back in my chair and exhaled slowly. For the first time in years, someone had caught me off guard. Andrea had looked at me like I was simply a man, not Ryder Santos. She had demanded, seduced, taken, and vanished.

And damn it, I wanted to find her.

I straightened and focused on the meeting again. Business first, always business. But as the team presented damage control plans, a small part of me stayed back in that suite with her laugh still echoing in my ears.

Whatever this was, it had not ended last night. At least not for me.