Chapter 1
I’d been with Dominic Reid for eight years, and lately, his “working late” excuses
had become an almost daily occurrence.
Valentine’s Day was apparently no exception.
“Babe, I really can’t get away tonight,” Dom sighed through the phone. “The restaurant reservation is all set–why don’t you take Megan and go enjoy dinner? Maybe hit up Rodeo Drive afterward? I’ll cover it all,” he added before hanging up. I stared at the diamond tennis bracelet his assistant had delivered that morning.
The Tiffany blue box sat open on my coffee table, sparkling but empty–just like his promises. I would have traded all the expensive “sorry” gifts for just one
evening of his undivided attention.
I decided to be understanding. He was building his business, after all. So instead of getting upset, I spent the afternoon making his favorite homemade pasta, planning to surprise him at his office with dinner.
Just as I was grabbing my car keys, my phone buzzed. The notification made me stop in my tracks.
Dom had sent me a photo–something he never did.
On his desk was a black, barely–there lace bodysuit that made me blush just looking at it. The caption read: Thinking of you wearing this tonight.
I stared at my screen in shock. Just last week, he’d complained that I wasn’t “adventurous enough” in bed. Was this his way of telling me to step up my game? While I was still processing this unexpected turn, another text came through:
Fairmont Hotel, Presidential Suite 1742. Come dressed in this or nothing at all. My heart raced with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. I rushed back inside, took a long shower, and sprayed on the Victoria’s Secret perfume my best friend Megan had given me last Christmas. “Men can’t resist this,” she’d said with a
wink. I’d been too shy to use it until now.
At 8 PM, I stood outside the hotel room door, my hand shaking slightly as I slid the
keycard in. The door swung open to reveal…
Dom’s back was turned, tangled with a woman in an unmistakably intimate
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position. The torn lace bodysuit from the photo lay discarded on the floor. I froze, unable to move or speak. Dom’s head was thrown back in pleasure, completely unaware of my presence. The woman opened her eyes and looked directly at me–Vanessa, his so–called “childhood friend” who worked at his
company.
The disgust that washed over me was physical, like I’d swallowed something
rotten. Eight years of my life, wasted on this man.
If all he wants is sex, I can play that game too.
Without a word, I backed out and closed the door. Then I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and knocked on the next hotel room’s door.
9