Chapter 2 Nicholas Anthony

Rachel was silent for a few moments, trying to digest everything. She closed her eyes, remembering what happened last night. Then the memory came out...

She leaned over to the man sitting next to her, licked his lips with a sudden burning passion. Then the vague image of them kissing and groping each other flashed through her head, making her cheeks turn red with the shame of herself. The elevator clinking open, the 68th floor, the president's suite, all clearly pictured.

She bit her lip harder as she recalled everything.

She remembered when she was passionately taking off that man's clothes one by one and jumping on his muscular body. She, Rachel Clarke, the miserable woman who never slept with any man because she was too picky.

"Wait! Can you step aside for a moment?" she said nervously, asking the man to get out of bed.

Sleepily the man moved, he covered his lower body with a pillow.

Rachel hurried to get rid of the pillows and clothes scattered on the bed. It turned out that her guess was right, there, on the white sheet was a red bloodstain that had dried since last night. She covered her mouth with her hand, unable to believe what she was seeing.

"What's that?" asked the man stepping closer to look at the bloodstain.

"No way! Are you a virgin?" she asked as surprised as Rachel.

"Are you kidding me? Have you forgotten what happened last night?!" Rachel snapped in a huff, starting to pick up her clothes one by one from the floor.

The man frowned, "I remember a few things about everything we talked about in the ballroom, but everything we did in this room, was a bit blurry..." he said with a frown. "Are you regret it? I mean, you'd want your virginal night to be more memorable, wouldn't you?" said the man with an understanding face.

"Oh shut up!" Rachel snapped. She hurried away from the man and walked quickly to the bathroom to get dressed. When she returned to the room, the man was already wearing his pants and shirt.

"Okay, can you explain everything now?!" Rachel said with her arms folded across her chest.

"Sure, but I'll need a cup of coffee, would you like one?" he said casually which irritated Rachel even more, was the man in front of her was some kind of sociopath or something?

"Rachel? What kind of coffee do you want?"

"What did you say? Rachel? How do you know my name? We didn't mention each other's names last night?" Rachel asked warily.

The man let out a long sigh, "I promise to explain everything, so what kind of coffee do you want? I have to order now," he said, holding up the intercom.

Rachel rolled her eyes, "I don't care what you order," she said as she threw herself onto the sofa. In her head the image of her laying down on the bed with that man swaying on top of her constantly dancing made her feel very embarrassed and aroused at the same time. There was no conversation between them until finally the doorbell rang and the man's coffee arrived.

"Okay, now you have no excuses! Drink that stupid coffee and explain to me everything!" Rachel snapped impatiently.

The man took a full sip of his double espresso then looked up at Rachel who was glaring at him.

"Last night you were raving about the debts you had with several banks, about your house certificate, and over-limited credit cards..."

Rachel's face was as red as a tomato, her shoulders sagging, starting to lose confidence. "What did you say?" she whispered in disbelief.

"Before I got really drunk I took a video of it, as proof, you want to see?" said the man as he shifted his cell phone and showed a video. With trembling hands, Rachel grabbed the video and pressed the 'play' button before long the footage of herself sitting next to the man was clearly visible.

In that tape, she looked so ridiculous and embarrassing. In a drunken state, she kept blabbering about the debts that made her want to move countries, she even said that she had no problem marrying a rich man as long as the debt was paid off. Then the camera turned to the man, he said, "I need a woman to marry immediately for some reason, a contract for two years, after that we will divorce on good terms, I will give a pretty good compensation for you."

Then the camera turned to Rachel who's snorted out laughing, "Are you kidding me? Do you have any money? Aren't you just a bodyguard?" she said, consumed by her own assumptions. "Of course I have, I'm the owner of this hotel, let's get acquainted formally, I'm Nicholas Anthony, founder, and CEO of The Anthony's Corp..."

Back in the real world, Rachel glared at the man who claimed to be Nicholas Anthony with wide eyes. "You're lying, aren't you?" she hissed a little scared.

"Just watch until the end," he said, leaning his back casually.

Rachel pressed the play button and started to watch again. In the video, the man showed his wallet with his ID in it, he even looked up his own name on an internet search engine to make Rachel believe in him. Rachel looked tempted, she bit her lip, staring at the man as if judging and considering.

"Okay, pay off my debt and compensate me for two million dollars so I don't have to work for the rest of my life!" she said half-joking. But the man nodded, "Okay deal!" then the camera moved towards him who took out another cell phone from his pocket. "I've prepared this contract because I know I will find the right person someday, fill in your name and ID in the blanks, and sign..."

Rachel turned off the video with a dumbfounded face, she turned to look at the man in amazement. "So you really are Nicholas Anthony?" she whispered stiffly.

Nicholas Anthony nodded, "Yeah, what can I say, I am him," he replied with a shrug. "How? Your signature was quite valid, anyway, you have nothing to lose, all women want to marry me! Rachel? You are okay? Rachel!" he snapped as he saw Rachel passed out from being too shocked. She fell onto the table, smashed into the coffee cup, and spilled all of its contents. Her head hurt quite badly, but she didn't wake up.

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