Chapter 17: A Vicious Plan

Solana's POV

I stood on the beach, the sand cool and sifted under my bare feet.

I’d come here to think, to plot, to claw back some sort of revenge.

Ever since that bitch, Caroline, stepped into Anderson’s life, everything had gone to shit. I mean that with all fucking sincerity.

My world, my spotlight, my Anderson, all snatched away by her cheap little smile and that pathetic innocent act.

I still see it sometimes, that night I had her pinned against the wall, my knife pressed to her throat. I could’ve ended it right there. Nothing stopped me.

If Anderson hadn’t barged in, walking around the corridor like a fucking security, I’d have slit her throat like a Christmas chicken, and watched her bleed out on that tiled floor.

“Solana,” a voice called, snapping me out of the memory.

I turned, squinting my eyes to see who it was.

The beach was supposed to be empty this late at night.

But here was some asshole striding toward me. Tall height, brown hair, a nose too big for his face.

He grinned like he knew me, and I hated him already.

“Don’t you remember me?” he said, stopping a few feet away.

I looked him up and down, his black joggers, hairy chest, and he was holding this glass of wine.

“No, I don’t remember,” I said, my voice filled with disgust. “Who are you?”

“I’m Nial, Anderson’s best friend.” He stretched out his hand, expecting a shake.

Anderson’s best friend? The name rang a faint bell, but I didn’t care enough to dig for it.

I shook his hand anyway, his grip tightening as he held on longer than necessary. His eyes lingered on me, hungry, and I smirked. Oh, he wanted me, bad. Perfect.

“Do you want to fuck your best friend’s lover?” I asked, tilting my head, impressed by how bold he was to even try.

He didn’t flinch. “I thought you two were no longer a thing anymore,” he said, his voice smooth. “Anderson’s been trending online lately, with his new girl, Caroline, I guess.”

Caroline. Her name was fire on my tongue, burning through me. But then it hit me—Nial could be useful. He wanted me, and I wanted Anderson back.

What if I could turn this horny idiot into a tool, a bargaining chip to take Anderson out of her grip?

“I can barely hear you,” I said, stepping closer, the wind blew my hair across my face. “How about you follow me to my hotel room where we can talk?”

I bit my middle fingernail, letting my eyes blink over him suggestively.

He caught the green light, his grin widened, and he nodded like an eager puppy.

Men are so predictable. I turned, my red bikini catching the artificial light at the beach, and led him off the beach toward my hotel apartment.

He followed behind, probably thinking he’d hit the jackpot. Poor fool. He had no idea he was just a pawn in the game I was about to play.

The hotel was exotic with marble floors, the kind of place that screamed luxury and power.

My room was no exception: A king-sized bed covered in silk, a balcony overlooking the restless sea.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind us, Nial didn’t waste time. His hands were on me, grabbing my ass with a roughness that almost made me laugh.

I didn’t push him off, not yet. Instead, I reached for him, my fingers trailing around his dick through his joggers. He moaned, and I knew I had him hooked.

He spun me around, bending me over the edge of the bed, his breath hot against my back as he tried to lose my bikini bottom.

I let him get that far, just enough to feel the thrill of control, then I stopped him, straightening up and turning to face him.

The confusion in his eyes was priceless, his mouth half-open, his dick straining against his joggers. I nearly laughed out loud.

He started to speak, but I pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. “You’re going to do something for me first,” I said, “before you get to fuck me.” I trailed my hand down on his dick, stroking him lightly.

He groaned, his head tipping back. “I’ll do anything you want,” he rasped. “Just name your price, any amount.”

I smirked, picking up the bottle of lubricant from the bedside table with my free hand. “I don’t want your money, Nial. I want your dick.”

“My dick is all yours,” he said, his voice filled with need.

I yanked his joggers down in one swift motion, revealing he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

His erection sprang free, hard and big.

“Really?” I said, raising an eyebrow as I poured the lubricant over him.

“My dick is useless,” he panted, his body trembling as the sensation hit him. “Do with it what you want.”

I started stroking him, slow at first, letting the lubricant coat my hand, making every move smooth.

His face flushed red, his breaths coming in short, ragged bursts.

I could tell he hadn’t had sex in ages, pathetic, really. Men like him were so easy to manipulate, so easy to put a leash on them when they wanted sex from a woman.

I picked up the pace, my grip tightening just enough to keep him eager for more.

“There’s someone I want you to fuck first,” I said, “After you’re done with her, then my pussy’s all yours.”

He moaned louder, his hips moving like a train under my touch. “Give me a name,” he stuttered, barely holding it together.

I smiled, feeling his dick pulse in my hand, knowing he was seconds away from pouring out.

“I want you to fuck Caroline Rodrigo,” I said, with every ounce of anger in me as I squeezed his dick cap harder, “and record her while you do it.”

He groaned, loud and guttural, his body jerking. “Solana, I’m cumming,” he gasped.