Chapter 2 TWO

The hotel was unusually busy today. The ballroom had been decorated with flowers for the hotel's 10th anniversary celebration. Everyone was bustling around with tasks. Emelie, now working a different role, was arranging name cards for the guests. She felt awkward among the more experienced partygoers - especially compared to Matthew, who was known for his charisma and vast social circle. He often attended office parties and events.

Emelie wore a simple black dress and left her hair down. Her makeup was minimal, except for her dark red lipstick - a bold change from her usual nude shades.

She had wanted to skip the event, but Monica and Delia had pushed her to come. Her thoughts were muddled. Last night, during a call with Matthew, she had heard a woman whisper "Honey" in the background.

When she asked him about it, he snapped, saying it was just a coworker who happened to be on the phone with him too.

"Come on, Emelie. What's wrong with trusting your fiancé for once? You're just being jealous," she told herself while staring at her reflection in the restroom mirror.

As she was about to leave the restroom, a familiar voice called out.

"Emelie!"

"Gabriela," Emelie replied with a faint smile.

"Emelie, I was just about to call you. I didn't expect we'd meet tonight. Can we talk?" Gabriela gently touched Emelie's arm, trying to read her expression.

"Of course. Is there something wrong with the wedding preparations?" Emelie trusted Gabriela, her wedding planner, to handle everything.

"Are you sure things are okay between you and your fiancé?" Gabriela asked, ignoring the question.

"Yes, of course. Matthew and I are doing fine. We spoke last night," Emelie replied calmly, though her heart was pounding.

"There's been a complication. Two days ago, Matthew contacted me... and he said something that shocked me," Gabriela said carefully.

"What do you mean? What did Matthew say?" Emelie asked, voice rising with panic.

"He canceled the wedding, Emelie," Gabriela said in a low voice, watching the tears well up in Emelie's wide, shocked eyes.

"No! That's not true. Matthew and I would never cancel our wedding. There must be some mistake," Emelie backed away, shaking her head.

"I didn't believe it either... until I saw this," Gabriela said, showing Emelie photos and videos of Matthew with another woman at her office, requesting the wedding be canceled.

Emelie's world shattered as she stared at the evidence. She couldn't speak. Her body trembled as her tears fell uncontrollably.

"Didn't Matthew tell you anything?" Gabriela asked gently, placing a hand on Emelie's shoulder as she collapsed to the floor.

Emelie shook her head, sobbing. Her chest felt tight, her voice lost. She never imagined this would be her fate - so heartbroken, humiliated.

"Did he take the money, too?" Emelie asked.

"Yes. Matthew took everything. The only thing that couldn't be refunded was the hotel suite," Gabriela replied, her own voice full of guilt.

Devastated, Emelie drank glass after glass of golden liquid handed to her by a waiter. She didn't care anymore. Tears kept streaming down her cheeks.

She tried calling Matthew again and again - dozens, then hundreds of times. But he never picked up. Her phone finally died from low battery.

"Stop drinking, Emelie. You're drunk," Delia scolded, snatching away another glass.

"What's wrong with you? Are you upset because Matthew isn't answering?" Delia probed, seeing how distraught Emelie had become.

"I have to go, Delia," Emelie said, brushing her off and stumbling away, refusing help.

Tears streamed down her face as she walked down the hotel corridor. Her heart was in pieces. She decided to spend the night in the presidential suite - the very room meant for her wedding night, now the witness of her ruin.

Elsewhere, a man was stumbling down the hallway. Franz's head was spinning, his body burning. He tore off his expensive jacket and loosened his bowtie, overwhelmed. He had no idea what drink had done this to him - or maybe it was the taste of freedom after being released from that cursed white room. His mind was filled with images of a sensual woman riding him, his desire building rapidly.

He reached his room, swiping his card repeatedly, but the door wouldn't open. Frustrated, he pounded on the door. Just as he was about to give up, the door opened. Standing there was a blurry but incredibly sexy woman - wet hair cascading down her back, wearing only a white shirt.

Overcome by lust, Franz pulled her inside and captured her lips in a fiery kiss, one hand tangling in her damp hair, the other gripping her waist.

No introductions. No thoughts. Just raw desire.

Emelie was stunned by the sudden kiss, pushed back inside her room. She tried to resist to scream, but the man overpowered her, lips never leaving hers.

"Don't do this!" she gasped, breathless, struggling as his hand slid under her shirt.

Franz didn't stop. The scent of strawberries only made him hungrier. He glanced at her face for a moment, then resumed kissing her.

"Trust me, I won't hurt you," he whispered huskily.

Franz had no intention of letting go. Tonight, he would be selfish. He didn't care if she hated him after this. He just needed her - all of her.

Emelie, exhausted from fighting, finally gave in. Something about his touch his voice made her feel safe.

The sound of fabric tearing echoed in the room. His hands explored every inch of her skin, his kisses igniting her entire body.

That night, she gave herself fully to Franz - the man who would unknowingly ruin and reshape her future.

And as he drifted off beside her, arms wrapped around her waist, he murmured:

"You're mine. Only mine."

***