All Chapters of ONE NIGHT STAND BETWEEN BEST FRIENDS : Chapter 171 - Chapter 180

“Dr. Gascon?” I looked up to see Brandon's driver standing behind me. “Mr. McClean asked me to drive you back to the hotel or anywhere you would like to go,” he said politely. I thought about blowing him off and just calling my assistant Freddie, but decided against it. There was no reason to make this man's life miserable. So I nodded and allowed myself to be driven back to the hotel. But as I stepped out of the car, I saw John's smallish frame lurking about. I tried to avoid him but he had already seen me. “Dr. Gascon!” I rolled my eyes and flashed him a smile, pretending that I was pleased to see him. “Hi, John.” “You don't have to pretend that you're happy to see me, Salma. We are past that.” “What is it you need this time?” I asked him. “Why don't we have breakfast together?” he asked me. “I don't know,” I said, “I wouldn't want anyone to mistake us for lovers.” He laughed, “Very funny.” We entered the hotel's restaurant and ordered a meal. I watched him quietly as I

BrandonI stood in front of Senator Schuamer’s office, debating whether I was doing the right thing by coming here. I had to know. I had to know why he had taken a public stance against me that had severely damaged the image of my company. Claiming that a drug I produced was LSD and that I was a part of some covert government operation trying to perform mind control experiments was nothing short of slander. It also happened at a time when I was also trying to make the company go public. The attack felt deliberate and given his relationship with Richard, I felt it was connected somehow. “The senator will see you now, sir,” said his secretary. I nodded and waited as she opened the door for me to go in. When I walked in, he was seated behind a polished mahogany table. The table looked like it cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. I wanted to ask him if he had used taxpayer’s money to purchase such a luxury, but I knew he would not appreciate the joke. “It is billionaire Brandon hims

Salma It was too late now to call anybody. I just had to hope that my gut feeling was wrong. I looked around the room slowly before my eyes settled on him again. “Why did you bring me here?” I asked him, “I don't see anything that belongs to my mother here.” He walked into the room and shut the door softly and all of a sudden I felt suffocated—like I could not breath. I had to get out of here. “There is something that belongs to your mother,” he said to me, “there… your drawer.” I raised an eyebrow. “My drawer?” “The compartment you could never open,” he replied. I tried to keep a straight face so that he would not notice that I was disturbed by what he had just said. “What about it?” I asked in as nonchalant a tone as I could manage. He looked at me intently. “I need the key to the drawer,” he said to me with a smile. “I don't understand,” I said like I was genuinely lost. “Don't try to be coy with me, Salma,” he said, “I know all about your little affair with John and I

Brandon “The last time I spoke to her was two days ago too,” Josephine was panicking, I could hear her voice trembling badly, “and she was supposed to call me back in an hour and she did not. She hasn't called back since and I have not been able to reach her.” My heart began to thud like a drum. What did that mean? Was Salma in danger? “Sudan,” amidst my beating heart I could only manage one word. “What? What Sudan?” “A nurse… someone told me she may be in Sudan. There are rumours.” “That's absurd!” Josephine cried, “She would have told me if she was travelling to Sudan and Salma would never leave the country when her daughter is still lying in a hospital bed.” Oh dear Lord! Could she be dead somewhere? “I… I will check her hotel room,” I said to Josephine, “you keep trying her phone.” “Okay,” she replied, “save my number and call me when you have something.” “I will.” I ended the call and practically raced to my car where my driver was waiting in the front seat.“The Rit

BrandonRelief washed over me. Salma had survived. Against all odds, she had made it out alive. “Can she be moved upstairs now? I won’t mind a private room,” I said to Dr. Kane. “Of course!” An hour later, Salma was transferred to a private room. I was sitting by her side quietly when someone knocked on the door. I stood up and opened the door. It was Sam, the cop, who had told me that it was likely Salma had been kidnapped. “Sam?” “I heard you brought her here,” he said. “Are you here to take her statement? She’s not awake…” “Not hers, yours,” was his response. “Of course,” I said, stepping out of the room so I would not disturb her. We moved a few feet away from her room when Sam brought out a notebook and began quizzing me. “Who gave you the tip on where to find Salma?” he asked me. “John,” I replied. “You mean the reporter who has been writing all those articles about Senator Schuamer?” he asked me. “Yes,” was my apt response. “Was there any other evidence you disco