LOGINOlivia
Ryan's head whipped around, his eyes widening with shock. For a moment, time suspended itself. My lungs refused to work, and the room seemed to tilt sideways.
"Liv—" Ryan stammered, still connected to Sophia. "This isn't—" "What it looks like?" I finished, my voice surprisingly steady despite the earthquake happening inside me. "Because it looks like you're fucking my friend on her birthday while I wait downstairs for a drink that's never coming." Sophia turned her head, meeting my gaze without a hint of shame. She didn't even bother to adjust her dress; she just rested her elbows on the dresser and sighed like I'd interrupted a business meeting. "Oh, Olivia," she said, her voice dripping with condescension. "Did you think a man like Ryan would be satisfied with just you?" Ryan finally pulled away from her, fumbling to pull up his pants. "Baby, please, this is just a... a thing. It doesn't mean anything." "A thing?" I repeated, heat rising to my face. "How long has this 'thing' been happening?" Before either could answer, I heard footsteps behind me. "Liv? Did you find—" Emilia's voice cut off as she appeared at my side, taking in the scene. "Holy fucking shit." Ryan's face paled further. "This isn't what—" "If you say 'this isn't what it looks like' one more time, I swear to God I will castrate you with my bare hands," Emilia snapped, her arm wrapping protectively around my shoulders. Sophia straightened up, finally adjusting her dress with leisurely movements. She tossed her hair back and had the audacity to smirk. "Ryan and I have an understanding. It's just sex. Great sex, but still just sex." "An understanding?" I laughed, the sound brittle and foreign to my ears. "And when exactly were you planning to include me in this understanding? After you gave me chlamydia, or before?" "Don't be dramatic," Ryan said, tucking in his shirt. "We've been careful." "Oh, careful! Well, that makes it all better then!" I threw my hands up. "You've been carefully fucking my friend behind my back. Such consideration!" Sophia leaned against the dresser, crossing her arms. "We're all adults here. Monogamy is so... limiting, don't you think?" Emilia stepped forward. "The only thing limiting around here is your moral compass, you backstabbing bitch." "Watch it," Sophia warned, her eyes narrowing. "Or what? You'll sleep with my boyfriend too? Get in line." Emilia turned to Ryan. "And you. You pathetic excuse for a man. Two years? Two fucking years of her life wasted on you?" Ryan finally managed to buckle his belt. "Liv, baby, please. We can talk about this. It's just physical. It doesn't change how I feel about you." "You feel so much for me that you bought me this dress." I gestured to my outfit. "So, I could be downstairs putting on a show for your friends while you're up here with your dick in Sophia?" "The dress looks amazing on you," he offered weakly. I stared at him in disbelief. "That's what you're going with right now? Fashion compliments?" "I'm just saying—" "No, I'm done listening to what you're 'just saying.'" I turned to leave, then spun back. "Two years, Ryan. Two years of me rearranging my schedule for you and believing every word out of your mouth. Was any of it real?" He took a step toward me. "Of course, it was real. I love you, Liv." "Spare me," I spat. "If this is your version of love, I want nothing to do with it." Sophia sighed dramatically. "Can we wrap this up? I have guests downstairs." "You have one less now," I said, turning away. "Enjoy your birthday present. You two deserve each other." Emilia shot them both a final glare before following me out. We marched down the hallway, my legs somehow carrying me forward despite feeling like they might collapse. "I've got you," Emilia whispered, her arm still around me as we descended the stairs. The party continued below us, oblivious to the implosion that had just occurred upstairs. The music seemed too loud now, the laughter too jarring. We pushed through the crowd toward the front door. Someone called my name, but I kept moving, my eyes fixed on the exit. The cool night air hit my face as we stepped outside, and only then did I realize I was shaking. We made it to the sidewalk when I heard the front door open behind us. I refused to look back. "Olivia!" Ryan called out. "Wait!" Emilia turned, positioning herself between us like a shield. "Go back to your birthday girl, asshole." "This is between me and Liv," he insisted but made no move to follow us. "There is no 'me and Liv' anymore," I called back, still walking. "We're done." His response was lost as we rounded the corner, the sounds of the party fading behind us. Once out of sight, my composure crumbled. I stopped walking, my breath coming in gasps. "I can't believe…I can't…" I pressed my hand to my mouth. "I know, honey. I know." Emilia pulled me into a hug. "Let it out." "Two years," I whispered against her shoulder. "Two fucking years." She stroked my hair. "I'm so sorry, Liv." I pulled back, wiping angrily at my eyes. "Did you know? About them?" Emilia hesitated. "Not for sure. But I had my suspicions." "What? Why didn't you say anything?" She sighed, fishing her phone from her purse. "I saw them at Barton's Café last month. They said they'd run into each other, but it seemed... off. The way they were sitting, the way he touched her arm. I didn't want to say anything without proof. I didn't want to hurt you if I was wrong." "Well, now we have proof," I said bitterly. "Let me call us a cab," Emilia said, tapping her phone. "My car's not here. Jake dropped me off." I hugged myself against the chill, suddenly aware of how exposed I felt in the dress Ryan had chosen. "No cabs available. Let's walk a bit. I'll keep trying for a ride and call Jake. Maybe he can pick us up." "Fine by me." I just wanted to get as far away from Sophia's house as possible. "I'd walk to Mexico now if it meant never seeing Ryan again." We started down the sidewalk, my heels clicking against the concrete. The neighborhood was upscale, with sprawling houses set back from the road, but the street itself was poorly lit. The rumble of an engine cut her off as a convertible slowed beside us. Four guys crowded inside, the stench of alcohol wafting our way. The driver leaned over, his eyes crawling over my body before settling on my chest. "Hey, babes, want a ride?" He grinned, revealing a gold tooth. "We got plenty of room on our laps." His friends burst into laughter. The one in the passenger seat raised a bottle. "We're celebrating! Don't you wanna celebrate with us?" "Fuck off," Emilia snapped, pulling me closer. "Ooh, feisty!" The driver killed the engine. "I like feisty." One guy, thick-necked with a tribal tattoo, vaulted over the door. He staggered toward us, pointing at Emilia. "You got a mouth on you, blondie. Let's see what else it can do." Before I could react, he lunged forward and grabbed Emilia by her hair, yanking her head back. She screamed, clawing at his arm. "Let her go!" I shouted, my marketing executive persona vanishing as pure rage took over. I swung my purse, connecting with his temple. He stumbled but kept his grip on Emilia's hair. "Your friend wants to play rough, huh?" He leered at me, eyes fixed on my chest. "Nice tits. Bet they bounce real good."AlexanderI stripped off my clothes, tossing them onto a chair, and changed into the pajama pants I'd brought. The clock on the nightstand read quarter past midnight. With the time difference, it was late morning in Los Angeles. Olivia would be at work. Probably buried in Cornerstone materials, obsessing over details that most people wouldn't notice but that would make all the difference. I grabbed my phone and settled onto the sofa, pulling up her contact. Video call felt right. Better than text, better than voice alone. The call connected after three rings. Olivia's face filled the screen, her expression shifting from concentration to surprise. "Hey. Wasn't expecting a video call." "Wanted to see your face." Her smile softened something in my chest. "That's sweet. How was your day?" "Long. Productive." I adjusted my position on the sofa, the leather creaking beneath me. "Had the meeting with Al-Rashid Holdings this morning." "How did it go?" "Better than expected, actually.
AlexanderI watched the street performer's flaming torches arc through the night sky, each rotation perfectly timed to the pulsing electronic music. The crowd around him had grown, phones held aloft, capturing the spectacle. "Very impressive, yes?" A voice beside me, thick with an Arabic accent. I glanced over. An older man with weathered hands and kind eyes, watching the performer with genuine appreciation. "Very," I agreed. "First time in Dubai?" "No, been here several times. Business." He nodded knowingly. "Always business with you Americans. Never pleasure." I couldn't help but smile. "Sometimes they overlap." "Ah, you are learning then." He gestured toward the marina. "Beautiful night for walking. City is alive." "It is." The performer caught his torches in a final flourish, bowing as the crowd erupted in applause. People dispersed quickly, moving on to the next attraction, the next experience. I continued walking along the causeway, letting my feet carry me without a
AlexanderThe afternoon stretched on as I dove deeper into research. Competitor analysis, market positioning, growth opportunities. By five PM, my eyes were burning from staring at spreadsheets. I closed the laptop and walked to the windows. The Persian Gulf sparkled under late afternoon sun, boats cutting white trails across the blue water. I changed into workout clothes and headed down to the hotel gym. The space was all mirrors and chrome, state-of-the-art equipment arranged with geometric precision. A wall of windows overlooked the Persian Gulf, now dark except for boat lights dotting the water. I started with weights, working through sets of shoulder presses while CNN played on mounted screens. The familiar burn in my muscles felt good, grounding. Physical exertion had always helped me think. The Al-Rashid brothers occupied my thoughts as I moved to chest presses. Khalid's skepticism was expected, but his questions were intelligent and probing. He cared about legacy, not jus
AlexanderWe left Omar's office, walking through more corridors adorned with expensive artwork and intricate calligraphy, the walls lined with what appeared to be original pieces from renowned Middle Eastern artists. Khalid led us to a floor below, where the atmosphere shifted from executive luxury to operational efficiency. "This is our central management facility," Khalid explained, gesturing to a massive room filled with computer stations and wall-mounted monitors. "We track everything from here. Occupancy rates, maintenance requests, guest feedback, everything." I studied the displays with genuine interest. The system was sophisticated, clearly custom-built rather than off-the-shelf software. "Who designed this?" I asked. "We did." Samir stepped forward. "Existing hospitality software didn't meet our needs, so we built our own." "Smart. Mind if I take a closer look at the interface?" Samir's surprise was evident. "You want to see the technical details?" "Absolutely. This k
Alexander"They are," I agreed. "Which is why I'd like to spend time understanding how Al-Rashid Holdings actually operates before we discuss specific terms. Tour your properties, meet your key employees, learn what makes your approach distinctive."Omar's eyes sharpened with interest. "You want to study our business.""I want to understand it. There's a difference." I pulled out my tablet and brought up the research I'd compiled. "Your occupancy rates are consistently twenty percent higher than competitors in the same markets. Your employee retention is exceptional. Guest satisfaction scores place you in the top tier across every property.""You've done your homework," Samir observed."Of course. But data only tells part of the story." I set down the tablet. "I want to understand the culture that produces those results. What decisions your father made thirty years ago that still influence operations today. How your family's values translate into business practices."Khalid's posture
AlexanderI paid the check and walked back to the hotel, the city still buzzing with energy despite the late hour. Dubai never seemed to sleep, always moving, always building something bigger and more ambitious.Back in my suite, I stripped down to boxers and collapsed onto the massive bed. The sheets felt cool against my skin, soft and inviting.I grabbed my phone one more time, pulling up that photo of Olivia. Her smile. The teasing glint in her eyes. The way she'd angled the camera to drive me insane.Three weeks suddenly felt like an eternity.Me: Goodnight, Liv. Dream of me.Her response came quickly, like she'd been waiting.Liv: Always do. Now sleep before you start sending me more sad selfies.I smiled, setting the phone on the nightstand and closing my eyes.The bed was too big, too empty. I reached for the pillow next to me out of habit, expecting to find her there. Found nothing but expensive fabric and silence.Tomorrow would bring meetings and negotiations. The reason I'd
OliviaI woke to predawn light filtering through unfamiliar windows, disoriented until memory clicked into place. The Caymans. Our last day. Alexander lay beside me, still deeply asleep. His face was softer in sleep, and the perpetual tension in his jaw finally eased. Hair fell across his forehead
OliviaI waited, watching the screen. One minute passed. Then two. Then five. Nothing. "Of course," I muttered under my breath, setting my phone face down on the table. "All talk, no action." It was always the same with bullies. They loved making threats from the shadows, but scattered like cock
OliviaHis eyes narrowed. "You think you know me based on what? One rescue and a dinner?" "I know that someone who truly believed love was meaningless wouldn't care so much about protecting himself from it." Alexander's jaw tightened. For a moment, I thought I'd pushed too far. "You're an intere
Olivia"Honey, you can focus on your career and still get laid," Emilia replied bluntly. "In fact, I think you need both. Some mind-blowing sex would do wonders for your stress levels." "Em!" I gasped, glancing around my empty apartment as if someone might overhear. "What? I'm just saying Alexand







