Marked by a Stranger

SIENNA'S POV

"What did you just say?"

I stare at the cranky Italian woman standing near the door of the hotel suite, my brain struggling to process her words. My head throbs with a heavy, disorienting ache. A few moments ago, I woke up lost and confused. Then the details of the room slammed into my vision, unearthing the buried fragments of last night. The massive, shiny chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The tangled, expensive silk sheets beneath my naked body. The heavy, unmistakable scent of sex clinging to the air, mixed with the mesmerizing, dark musk of the stranger who called himself Alessandro.

Memories crash into my mind in an unstoppable wave. I remember the fiery ecstasy. I remember how insanely aroused I felt, how my hands fumbled shamelessly with his tailored shirt. I remember begging him to touch my body, pleading for him to take me. It was a blur of primal heat, sweat, and raw skin. Now, that memory makes a sickening, heavy wave of panic rise in my throat. I cheated on my boyfriend. I cheated on Derek with a random, dangerous stranger in a nightclub hotel room. The crushing weight of that realization makes my stomach churn with nausea.

"The gentleman, Alessandro, had to leave early. You might never see each other again, but he wants you to know that last night remains the best night he has ever had."

The woman repeats the message like a broken record, her cheeks flushed with annoyance. She crosses her arms over her chest, glaring at me as if I am a disgusting stain on the rug.

Tears prick my eyes, blurring the luxurious suite around me. I process the sheer humiliation of her words. Last night, I was swept off my feet like a princess. The stranger made me feel desired, consumed, and worshipped. This morning, I am abruptly abandoned, left with a pathetic, generic message delivered by an irritated stranger. The reality sets in cold and hard, freezing the blood in my veins. I feel like nothing more than a cheap whore paid for a night of service.

"Please go take a shower. The chef will bring your food shortly."

"I just want to get out of here. I do not want any food."

I force the words out through a tight throat, dragging the white bedsheet around my bare chest as I stumble toward the bathroom.

I step into the glass shower stall and turn the water on as hot as I can physically stand. I scrub my skin with the soapy loofah, desperate to wash away the heavy scent of Alessandro and the physical relics of our fiery night. My hands shake under the spray. I just need to get clean, go find Derek, and confess everything before the guilt eats me alive.

A sharp pain radiates from the side of my neck as the hot water hits the skin.

I groan aloud, dropping the loofah onto the marble tiles. I step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my dripping body, and wipe the steam from the bathroom mirror. I gasp in sheer horror at my reflection. A deep, sore wound sits right over my pulse point. The surrounding skin is bruised a dark purple, but the center is broken, forming a distinct crescent of deep teeth marks. It is far too deep to be a simple hickey. The terrifying realization settles over me like winter ice. I might have been marked. The stranger sank his teeth into me like a feral beast claiming its prey.

"Your dress is ready."

The Italian woman's voice filters through the thick bathroom door.

I dry myself in a frantic rush and slip into my clothes, desperate to flee this hotel. I step out of the suite and head down the carpeted corridor, intending to take the same staircase I stumbled up last night.

The woman grabs my arm, her grip surprisingly strong.

"You must take the elevator. There was a brutal altercation downstairs this morning because of you. The gentleman requested you leave this way."

"What do you mean because of me? I have no idea what you are talking about."

I try to pull my arm away, but her manicured fingers dig into my flesh.

"I cannot explain further. Just come with me."

She drags me toward the private elevator. I have no energy left to fight her. My mind is spinning with confusion and mounting dread. An altercation because of me? None of this makes sense. The elevator doors open to an underground parking garage. A man in a dark suit ushers me into the back of a black car with heavily tinted windows.

"Take me to this address."

I rattle off Derek's apartment complex to the driver. My guilty heart pounds against my ribs, demanding that I go straight to him. I have an overwhelming need to confess my sins. I have to tell Derek what I did, beg for his forgiveness, and explain that I was out of my mind. The thought of my best friend suddenly flashes in my head. Viviana. She was the one who dragged me to the club last night. She abandoned me there in the middle of the dance floor.

I pull my phone from my purse and dial her number. It goes straight to voicemail. I call again, and again, my thumb jabbing the screen. She is refusing to answer any calls.

The tinted car pulls up to the curb outside Derek's building. I jump out, bypass the lobby, and take the stairs two at a time. My pulse races as I march down the familiar corridor to his apartment. As I get closer, a sound makes my blood freeze in my veins. Wild, unmistakable screams echo through the heavy wooden door. It sounds like someone in the throes of intense, raw pleasure.

My hands tremble as I dig into my purse for the spare key Derek gave me a year ago. I slide the cold metal into the lock, turn it, and push the door open.

I step inside, and all the blood drains from my face. My purse slips from my numb fingers, hitting the floorboards with a dull thud.

Derek has Viviana pinned aggressively against the living room wall. Her bare legs are wrapped tightly around his waist. He is thrusting his thick, rigid cock deep inside her wet pussy, fucking her at a mad, frantic pace. Viviana's head is thrown back against the drywall, her hands tangled in his hair as she screams out in ecstasy. The loud, wet slapping sound of his hips slamming against her bare thighs echoes through the living room.

They both freeze at the sound of my gasp.

Derek pulls his cock out of her with a wet, sickening sound and drops her legs. Viviana lands on her feet, but she does not look shocked, guilty, or ashamed. She simply strolls over to the unmade bed with a churlish, unapologetic grin on her face. She runs a hand through her messy hair, nonchalantly waving at me.

"Hi, Party girl."

Derek quickly throws on his dark shorts, his chest heaving as he glares at me. He stomps across the room, grabs me forcefully by the arm, and drags me out into the hallway. The rough texture of the wall scrapes against my shoulder as he shoves me backward.

"I am breaking up with you. I should have done it a long time ago. I love Viviana and I want to be with her. Go home, or go back to wherever you spent the night."

Derek gruffs out the words, his eyes cold and devoid of any remorse.

"Viviana took me to the nightclub last night! She left me there!"

I scream the words at him, my voice cracking under the weight of the crushing betrayal.

"You are a bloody liar. Viviana was with me all night. She told me you went to see a boyfriend at the club."

Derek sneers, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

The horrifying truth slams into me, stealing the breath from my lungs. Viviana deliberately drugged me. The strange drinks she handed me at the bar. The dizzy, burning sensation that took over my body. The unnatural, insane arousal that made me throw myself at a dangerous stranger. She orchestrated this entire setup to steal Derek and implicate me. We have been sisters since meeting in the orphanage as toddlers. We shared our clothes, our food, and our deepest secrets. We protected each other from the cruel world. And she planned my utter destruction with a smile on her face.

"That is a lie! She drugged me, Derek! She set me up!"

I yell in utter distress, tears streaming hot and fast down my cheeks.

Derek coldly scoffs, stepping closer to point a harsh finger directly at my throat.

"A lie? Then what is that mark lying shamelessly on your neck? The bastard even left a hickey."

I gasp, my trembling hand flying up to cover the sore, bruised bite mark. Guilty tears spill over my eyelashes, mixing with the tears of pure devastation. I have no defense. I have no way to prove my innocence. The physical proof of my infidelity is branded right into my flesh for him to see.

"You are a shameless whore, Sienna. I never want to see you again. Get out!"

Derek roars the words in my face before turning around and slamming the door shut. The heavy click of the deadbolt echoes through the silent hallway.

I slide down the wall, pulling my knees to my chest as the loud sobs tear through my throat, leaving me utterly alone with the painful mark burning on my neck.