Used and Betrayed

A heavy, rhythmic thumping hammered relentlessly against the inside of Dominic’s skull. It was well past midday when he finally dragged his exhausted body out of a deep, postcoital coma. He stretched lazily across the massive mattress, his muscles heavy and sated, fully expecting his hand to brush against Elena’s warm, bare skin tucked securely beside him. Instead, his fingers grasped nothing but empty, wrinkled sheets. He patted the space next to him blindly. Her spot on the mattress was completely vacant.

Before he could even process the sudden absence, a blinding glare of daylight violently pierced the room.

Dominic groaned in sheer agony, throwing a heavy arm over his eyes. His heavily pounding head violently throbbed against the sudden intrusion of light as the automatic blinds retracted.

His butler, Davis, briskly stepped further into the master bedroom, his pristine uniform perfectly unruffled. He carried a silver tray bearing a glass of water and a specialized hangover cure. Without any preamble, Davis stood at attention and announced, "You have been summoned to the house, Sir. Your father wants to see you immediately."

"Christ, Davis," Dominic grumbled, his voice thick and raspy with sleep. He blindly waved off the urgent request, grabbing the pills and downing them in one harsh gulp. "Tell him I can't see him today."

Davis didn't flinch. "He expects you soon, Sir."

Dominic forcefully rubbed his stinging eyes. He didn't have the patience or the energy to deal with his father's relentless demands right now. He had more immediate things on his mind. "Just... handle Elena for me."

Davis remained perfectly straight. "She's gone already, Sir. She practically ran out of the house."

Dominic sat bolt upright. The sudden movement sent a vicious spike of pain straight through his temples, but he completely ignored it. He stared at the older man, thoroughly stunned. "What do you mean gone?" he asked rapidly. "Did she cause a scene?"

In his extensive, wealthy bachelor experience, women always overstayed their welcome the morning after. They stubbornly lingered in his expensive bed, wrapped themselves in his sheets, and foolishly waited for romantic breakfasts. He usually had to gently but firmly let them down by gifting them a shiny diamond necklace to soften the blow. In the absolute worst-case scenarios, he had to have his private security firmly escort them off the property.

But Davis swiftly shook his head, instantly confirming there was absolutely no scene. The mousey, bespectacled librarian had simply vanished into thin air.

"She seemed eager to leave," Davis added calmly.

Baffled and deeply unsettled, Dominic threw on his black silk robe, not even bothering to tie the belt. He padded barefoot downstairs, the cold marble floors biting sharply against his heels. He frantically checked the sprawling living room, his eyes scanning the plush modern sofas and the empty dining area. He aggressively pushed open the glass doors and peered out at the patio pool, half-expecting to see her lounging in the heated water.

Absolutely no trace of her anywhere.

The sudden, jarring realization hit him like a physical blow. A woman who was completely out of his league—both in terms of exorbitant wealth and striking looks—had just brazenly used him for a night of incredible sex and then walked right out the front door.

The thought filled him with an unprecedented, burning anger. He stood alone by the pool, his fists clenching tightly at his sides. He felt incredibly used and oddly, deeply betrayed. He clearly remembered every single detail of last night. He remembered how she had beautifully come alive at his expert touch, throwing her head back and loudly moaning his name in the dark. She had taken his cock deep inside her, matched his frantic rhythm, and surrendered completely to the mind-numbing pleasure. Yet, after all of that, she had fled without so much as a basic goodbye.

Dominic stormed back up the stairs, his bare feet slapping angrily against the polished steps. He threw open the bedroom door just as Davis returned.

The butler walked over to the edge of the unmade bed, meticulously placing a neatly folded pile of fabric on the mattress. It was Elena's dress and her tiny, pink lacy panties.

Dominic's eyes widened in pure shock. He stared at the sheer underwear, his heart skipping a beat. "Woah!" Dominic almost shouted, a sudden, unfamiliar wave of deep sexual insecurity hitting him straight in the chest. "Was she in such a hurry to get away from me she left naked?"

His mind raced with panic. Who the hell was this woman? More importantly, was his lovemaking really so utterly terrible that it caused a woman to flee his house completely naked just to escape him? No woman had ever snuck off like this after a night in his bed.

Davis quickly corrected the wild assumption. "No, Sir," the butler explained smoothly, entirely unfazed by Dominic's loud outburst. "She was in your shirt and her coat. Mrs. Flint simply washed the clothes she had carelessly left behind on the floor."

Dominic exhaled a long, heavy breath, immensely relieved that he wasn't so terrible in bed that she ran out into the street bare-assed. But that relief was instantly replaced by sheer disbelief. "She left in my shirt, you say?"

Davis nodded once, then quietly excused himself from the room.

Dominic shook his head at her sheer, unadulterated boldness. He glared intensely at the pink lacy panties and the folded dress resting on his mattress. What the hell was he supposed to do with these? He silently vowed, right then and there, that he had to track her down and aggressively make her explain herself. Nobody used him and just walked away like he was nothing.

Still aggressively hungover and in absolutely no mood to entertain his father's tedious demands, Dominic crawled right back into the messy bed. He pulled the heavy duvet over his head and quickly passed out. As he drifted off into the darkness, he found himself oddly and pathetically comforted by her lingering, sweet scent still deeply trapped in the fibers of his silk sheets.

Sometime well after 3:00 PM, a sharp, repetitive knock on the door jolted him awake again.

Davis stepped inside, this time delivering a final, unyielding ultimatum. "Sir, your father called. If you do not appear at the family estate within one single hour, Arthur Dominic Sterling III will personally come over to this bachelor pad and forcefully hash things out himself."

Dominic groaned loudly, burying his face deeper into the pillows. He knew this wasn't an empty bluff. The old man would absolutely kick his front door down if he had to. The heavy source of their bitter, ongoing recent conflict loomed darkly over him. It was the massive elephant in the room that had turned them into bitter enemies over the past few weeks. His father was officially stepping down from the company, and Dominic was forcefully expected to fill his enormous, legendary shoes as the new CEO of Sterling Logistics on Monday morning.

There was no running from it anymore.

Reluctantly dragging his heavy, exhausted body out of the comfortable bed, Dominic headed straight for the en-suite bathroom. He intentionally turned the water pressure all the way up, taking a ridiculously long, scalding shower just to spitefully delay the dreaded family meeting. He let the hot jets hammer against his tense shoulders, washing away the lingering traces of sleep and the remnants of last night's sweat.

Finally, he stepped out onto the cold bathroom tiles, grabbing a thick white towel from the rack. He aggressively toweled off the water, wiping a heavy hand across the steamy bathroom mirror to check his reflection.

He froze instantly.

His eyes caught sight of a distinct, dark purple hickey stamped prominently on the side of his neck.

Dominic dropped the towel onto the floor, staring hard at the ugly, glaring mark branding his skin. His blood boiled in an instant. The sheer audacity of it hit him like a freight train, angering him entirely anew. As if brazenly using him for sex and leaving without a single word wasn't insulting enough, the mousey woman had the absolute nerve to forcefully brand his skin before she vanished.