BOUND TO THE COLDHEARTED LUCAS LORENZO

‎ ‎"Trisha!" I screamed into the phone.

‎ ‎" guess what!" ‎ ‎

‎" Easy darling easy....you sound so excited, what's the miracle? " she asked, with equal enthusiasm. ‎

‎"aaahh....I need you to see for yourself!!" I said, switching to facetime. ‎

‎ ‎"Wait....No... absolute fucking way," her eyes widened as we switched to the facetime, with my fingers shoving into her screen. ‎

‎"Are those -diamonds?... Wait wait wait...who proposed?" She bombarded. ‎

‎"what do you mean who proposed?" ‎. "Don't be silly girl, everyone knows Carl is the only one who ever rocks my boat." I swooned. ‎

‎"yeah and everyone knows you never let him rock you- oops." she cackled. ‎

‎"yeah whatever. He never complained though." I rolled my eyes saying.

‎"I just wanted you to know we have a wedding to plan." ‎ ‎

"yes we do sis. and uh...I've gotta ask, when was this proposal exactly?" She asked. ‎

‎"as early as dawn." I smacked.

"Matter of fact. I woke up to it right before he left for work." I said, lifting my fingers, a smile stretched across my lips as the diamonds shone. ‎

‎"Before work??..Wow, who knew Carl could be so intentional??" she purred her voice. ‎

‎"you know what?, Im totally bored right now, how about we celebrate at my house, sounds good doesn't it?" she asked

‎ ‎"of course!" I smiled deeply. ‎

‎"I'll be waiting." and with that, she hung up the phone. ‎

‎ ‎ ‎Excitedly, I picked up my purse and my phone, ‎

‎There was a super cute photo of Carl and me sitting just at the centre table, it had fallen to the floor so I picked it up, ‎

‎"I love you Carl. I really do ." i said, kissing the frame , replaced it back to it's position and hurriedly made way for my car.

‎ ‎Just then a call came in. ‎ ‎"Hello Becky, what's the update ?"

‎ ‎She sighed. ‎ ‎"We have still not found the perfect face and physical requirements the organizers are seeking for, and," she sighed in deeply once again. ‎

‎" what's it Becky?" I asked, pinching the ridge of my nose in impending frustration.

‎ ‎"the models are not willing to renew their contracts which will be ending in a few days.

And we need new recruits. Urgently." ‎

‎Oh shit.

‎ ‎My head jammed with the idea of my business folding up as I drove, ‎

‎Then I made a sharp bend, leading to Trisha's house. ‎

‎Trisha., the dots connected. ‎

‎"You know what. I've got the perfect plan" I suddenly lit up as an idea popped into my head.

‎ ‎"Trisha. My sister, she's a big shot stylist and she works closely with models."

I said tapping excitedly on the steering wheel, ‎ ‎"Don't worry Becky, we won't be folding up anytime soon I promise you. we'll talk later." I kissed into the phone and hung up. ‎

-

‎Trishas house was super glassy, but even when everyone else had a problem with it, she never did. ‎

‎And her room, it was right in the open for all to see. ‎ ‎

‎"Trish, don't you think you need some blinders?" I said horrifically as I stepped out from the car. ‎ ‎

Then I walked towards the entrance. ‎ ‎The door was slightly ajar, and there were scattered pieces of clothing all over the floor. ‎

‎"ohh" my mouth formed into an 'O' at the sudden realization. ‎ ‎A man's piece of clothing, a man's briefs, a female thong which obviously belonged to Trisha. ‎ ‎And of course, a subtle sound of intense pleasure. ‎ ‎"uhhhhmmmm, "

she moaned softly. ‎ ‎"I know you like it,"" a male voice inaudibly said. Followed by a loud spank In the ass. ‎ ‎

Trisha cried out loud but, I assume it was rather a cry of joy, from everything I've learned about sex. ‎ ‎

A chuckle nearly escaped my lips, but I immediately flung my hand to cover it up. ‎

‎Then the strokes became louder, and her moans grew deeper.

‎ ‎My feet felt planted deep in the root, unable to move, ‎ ‎Was it as good as they say ? ‎

The curiosity burned me. ‎

‎All I could think about at the moment was Carl, our wedding night, and the endless night of pleasure.. ‎

Now, My body felt tense against the wall where I leaned, the thoughts dancing In my head wouldn't go away.

My hands gently cupped my breasts and they felt warm against it, ‎

‎And it trailed slowly down to my navel, giving it a light rub and slowly again, ‎ ‎Now, ‎Down in between my thighs. ‎

‎My breath caught sharply as my tiny finger slid along the opening, spreading them slightly apart to feel the moistness. ‎ ‎

This was something I'd never done before , how could something feel so wrong yet so right. ‎

Trisha continued to moan in pleasure. ‎ ‎Her sounds, igniting the fire in me, ‎

‎‎ ‎I needed to feel exactly what Trisha was feeling, to cry and wail in ecstasy. ‎

‎I slipped my finger out and brought it to my face. ‎ ‎My ring shone brightly on my ring finger and my heart burned for carl all the more.

‎ ‎My memory filled with the large size of his dick the day his towel had accidentally fallen across the room. ‎

‎ ‎It would fill me up completely. I blushed quietly. ‎

‎But on the bright side. We were already engaged. And that meant only one thing, we were already married.

I squealed internally. ‎ ‎

Trisha's sultry voice cracked with all the sloppiness.

‎ ‎I quietly retreated my footsteps and went back into the living room. ‎ ‎

Juggling between the options of waiting or giving them a much needed privacy While picking up the clothing on the floor and placing them on the sofa neatly.

‎ ‎I sank into the chair and pulled out my phone. ‎

‎I bit my lip gently, anxiety quietly building up inside of me as I typed in a risky text. ‎ ‎

Carl was always a big supporter of my celibacy journey and I couldn't wait to surprise him with the 'cookie' tonight. ‎

‎"hey husband. I've got a special treat for you tonight." it read, with a whole lot of feisty stickers.

‎ ‎"ahh... doesn't it sound a bit too desperate?" I said to myself,

‎ ‎"oh vicky..," I gasped sending it. ‎ ‎"I better call him."

I said anxiously, my cheeks turning a bright shade of red. ‎ ‎But as it began to ring, ‎ ‎A phone began to buzz just beside me, tucked into the sofa.

‎ ‎"Trish, your phone...." ‎

-

‎"wait..what?" , my head suddenly feeling light.

‎ ‎Then the buzz turned into a ringtone I memorized and scripted on the back of my palms.

‎ ‎Carls ringtone.

‎ ‎"naahh...there's no way..It can't be." I chuckled dryly. ‎

‎placing my hand on my forehead as I tried to shove away the evidence. ‎ ‎ ‎Then I redialed it. ‎

‎ ‎"who the fuck could that be?" he said, his footsteps echoing in my heart louder than his voice till it finally came to a fullstop.

‎I rose up with the phone in my hand.

‎ ‎Slowly I turned to face him, ‎Completely butt naked. ‎ ‎My heart shattered. ‎ ‎

Words could barely form in my mouth as my mind raced through a million thought.

‎ ‎"I promise you Vicky...it's not. What you think."

He said, going down on his knees. ‎

‎"oh trust me darling. It is." said Trisha, coming out right behind him with her arms folded.

I pushed through the blinding tears.

"No..." The word slipped out, a broken, breathless chant. "No... no..."

"Vicky... please... Vicky, wait!" Carl scrambled, desperately grabbing his briefs and lunging into a pair of trousers.

"Yes, that's right, Vicky. Run before it gets too late," Trisha sliced in, her voice dripping with malice.

"You wouldn't want to know what happens under these sheets. Or would you?"

"No... Victoria, please!" Carl interjected, but their voices were already drowning into the background.

All I could hear was the echo of their betrayal-the raw, heavy sounds of their affair. How could they do this to me?

Heart wrenched, I sprinted out of the house and threw myself into my car. Carl's speed nearly caught up; his fingers clawed at the edge of my window just as I slammed the gear into reverse. My tires screeched violently.

My hands trembled, but I gripped the steering wheel for dear life and zoomed off, leaving him in the dust.

"Get a grip, Victoria," I muttered, biting down hard on my trembling lip. The bitter taste of salty tears flooded my mouth. My vision remained blurry, but Trisha's vulgar expression was permanently burned into my brains.

It screamed pure satisfaction.

I gasped as realization hit me like a physical blow. Her malicious smile, her casual invitation for me to come over tonight... the affair. It was a setup.

She meant for me to see them.

W-was she jealous?

Right on cue, my phone began to buzz in the console. Endless, frantic rings.

Carl. What the fuck did he want now?

On the final ring, I stomped on the brakes with all the force I could muster, pulling over hard. Burying my head against the steering wheel, my chest heaved.

My eyes welled, and and raw, ugly, explosive tears burst through like a broken dam.-

Tap. Tap.

A sharp knock on the driver's side window startled me. I looked up; the glass was slightly cracked open.

"What the...? Go away!" I shook my head furiously at the intruder standing outside.

But the man wouldn't budge. He stood there, broad-chested and looming like some damn FBI agent, his chest rising and falling, his lips slightly parted.

Was he a twisted fan, or just weird?

"Fuck you anyway. You're all the same," I spat, sniffing into my palms and painfully wiping my soaked cheeks. I caught a glimpse of my puffy, bloodshot eyes in the rearview mirror and looked away in disgust.

By the time I glanced back out the window, the man was gone.

Good riddance.

"Well, if this is what Trisha wanted, then congratulations. She won the lottery," I muttered through gritted teeth, speeding off toward my apartment.

Somehow, during the rest of the drive, the music felt like a warm hug. The tracks glided seamlessly from Billie Eilish to Taylor Swift, and by the time I pulled into my driveway, the hysterical sobbing had numbed down .

I exhaled deeply and pulled out my keys, ready to drown myself in a puddle of wine.

I couldn't call Mom-she'd find a way to make me the problem anyway.

But as I unlocked my front door and stepped out, a tiny parcel fell out of my jacket pocket, hitting the floor.

"What's this?" I pushed the stray hair out of my face and picked it up.

A small plastic baggie containing a strange, compact substance. I folded it tightly into my palm, my mind racing. Where had this come from? Had someone planted it on me?

I wiped my eyes and walked into the living room, but the mystery vanished the moment my eyes landed on the framed photo of Carl and me on the table.

My blood boiled. Like a toxic cocktail of anger, sadness, and betrayal purging through my veins.

I marched over, grabbed the frame, and screamed, "This is what I get for believing in love!"

And smashed it against the wall. The glass shattering into a million jagged pieces.

I dug my fingernails into my scalp, desperate to feel a different kind of pain. Deep breaths weren't working anymore. Wine had to. I reached for the shelf, grabbed a bottle, and poured glass after glass, gulping it down until the bottle hit the counter, empty.

But the alcohol couldn't drown out the memory.

"Fuck, you taste so good, baby..." Trisha's sloppy voice echoed in my head.

"Arghhhhhhhhh!" I shrieked, hurling the empty bottle against the wall. It exploded in a shower of green glass.

I panicked, scanning the shelves for more. I found a random bottle and checked the label. "Thirty-seven percent? What the fuck am I supposed to do with thirty-seven percent?"

I popped the cork anyway and threw my head back, letting the harsh liquid scorch my throat dry.

My knees buckled, unable to support my weight anymore.

But as I sank to the floor, a strange heat flushed through me. But It was also a familiar, deeply twisted wave of arousal.

Why the hell was I feeling this way? It felt exactly like the dark, heavy tension back at Trisha's house.

"No, no, no," I whimpered, covering my ears, trying to block out the phantom moans of pleasure that were traumatizing me.

Crawling toward the coffee table, my lazy eyes caught the strange little parcel I'd set down.

No, Victoria... this isn't you, a faint voice warned in my head.

"You don't have the slightest clue who I am," I whispered back to the empty room.

I unrolled the plastic. "I'm a failure. I failed at my relationship. I tried to build something for myself instead of hiding behind my family name and wealth, and guess what?" I cackled, a manic, broken sound. "I failed at that, too! So don't tell me who I am."

Closing my eyes, I swallowed the substance whole.

**†**†******†***†**†**†****

"Miss... Vic...toria?"

A blurred voice slurred my name. My eyelids felt heavy, peeling open to a harsh, blinding light.

"Oh my God... you're awake!" Becky let out a massive sigh of relief. "Thank God. I almost called 911."

"Ahhh..." I pressed the palms of my hands into my temples. Feeling the migraine seep into my brains.

"You were totally blacked out," Becky said, hovering over me. "After a hundred unanswered calls, I got so worried I came straight here. And when I saw you like this, I knew I had to call him..." She smiled triumphantly.

I furrowed my eyebrows, a knot forming in my stomach. "Call who?"

Right then, the front door swung open.

The architect of my misery walked in.

The memories washed over me like a wave, and in that moment, every emotions I fought to surpress attacked like a tsunami.

"Vicky..." Carl said, treading carefully across the room. "I love you. You know that."

"Becky," I said, my voice cutting through the room like shards of ice. "If you don't get him out of here by the count of three, I'm calling the cops."

Carl stared at me in disbelief, his jaw slightly slack. "You don't mean that. Do you, Victoria Lurkin?"

I swallowed the bitter bile rising in my throat. I needed him to leave before my mask fell. I couldn't let him see the depths of my heartbreak.

"Get out of my house, Carl."

"What was I supposed to do with my hard-on?!" he blurted out.

The pathetic mask he wore finally dropped to the ground.

"You wouldn't even..." Carl's eyes darted to Becky, who looked like she needed to evaporate on the spot. "Becky... would you believe she wouldn't even suck my dick?!" he thundered.

Becky's cheeks turned a violent shade of red.

If she was embarrassed for me, I couldn't even fathom the depth of the pit I was currently residing in. Somewhere near the Earth's crust, chilling with Satan.

"I deliberately dropped my towel the other day with an erect dick, hoping my girlfriend," he spat, throwing up aggressive air quotes, "would help me out. But what did she do? Acted like a fucking nine-year-old and ran out of the room, Becky! Victoria, a twenty-five-year-old woman, ran out of the room because she saw her boyfriend naked!"

He let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "And oh... did I mention she closed her eyes, too?"

He shook his head, looking down at me with pure venom. "We could have been a power couple, Vicky. We could have. But you know what you're actually good at?" He stepped forward, thrusting his index finger directly at my face. "You're good at ruining everything."

With that, he stormed out, slamming the heavy door behind him with a deafening bang.

My ears rang. My tongue felt glued. A single, silent tear escaped my eye and tracked down my cheek.

"Miss Victoria..." Becky rushed over, wrapping her arms around my shoulders from behind. "You know that's not true. I promise you, things are going to get better. Please don't cry."

I harshly wiped the wetness from my face.

"You need rest," Becky sighed deeply, trying to soothe me. "You can't overwhelm yourself with heartbreak right now. Look, I have a list of calls from models who want a slot in the lineup. I scheduled the meetings for tomorrow morning. You need a distraction-"

"Cancel it," I cut in sharply.

Her eyes widened as if I'd just handed her a suicide note. She opened her mouth to protest, but I didn't let her.

"You're right. I need a distraction," I said, a slow satisfaction settling over my chest. "And I'm getting it tonight."

"I... I don't get it," Becky said, nervously adjusting her glasses.

"Carl hurt me," I said, a malicious smirk slowly drawing across my lips. "And the only way to get back at him is to get even."

"I'm sorry, but I still have no idea what you're talking about, Miss Victoria." Becky chuckled nervously.

"What I'm trying to say, Becky, is that I'm getting laid tonight," I whispered.

Three hours later, I stood in front of my vanity mirror, smacking my bloodshot lipstick together before pouting at Becky's reflection.

"Becky, you don't have to follow me. I'm fine," I insisted.

"Miss Victoria... you are still staggering," she countered, crossing her arms. "Let me drive you at least. I just want to make sure you are safe."

She actually had a point.

"Fine, Becky. You almost sound like a mom," I muttered, rolling my eyes as I grabbed my small purse.

Becky let out a visible sigh of relief, and we headed out to the car. She started the engine but paused, throwing one last, heavy look my way.

"Are you sure you want to do this? It's a one-time and forever thing, Miss Victoria."

"As sure as daylight!" I threw my hands up in the air. Times like this were exactly why I loved having a convertible.

Becky shifted into drive and zoomed off.

The New York streets were alive, flashing past us in a blur of blinding neon and chaotic energy.

I knew the city never slept, but tonight felt dialled up to an eleven. Was it the Fourth of July, or have I just been an extreme introvert?

"Here! Pull over here, let's go in here!" I gestured excitedly toward a massive building vibrating with heavy, jarring bass.

Blazing across the front in bold lights was the name: THE GATES OF HELL.

"That's one hell of a name," Becky muttered, her eyes widening at the attention-grabbing facade.

"I bet I'll find something hot in there, then," I squealed, unbuckling my seatbelt and stepping out onto the pavement.

But Becky remained behind the wheel, her knuckles white against the steering wheel. "I don't feel good about leaving you all by yourself in there..." She tilted her head, peering nervously at the crowded, chaotic entrance.

"Becky, I'm a grown woman. I feel good, and I'll be fine. Trust me." I gave her hand a reassuring tug and blew her a kiss before walking away.

But the truth was, I did not feel good at all. In fact, I felt completely shitty. But I would rather drown in the gates of hell with a hot demon than drown in my own bed while the phantom echoes of Trisha's moans tortured my sanity.

"Hey," I murmured to the buff female bouncer standing by the entrance. Something about her imposing build screamed that I was in the exact right place.

If I didn't find an Adam tonight, who knows? I might just settle for an Eve.

A slow smirk drew across her lips. She averted her gaze and gestured for me to walk right in, keeping it strictly professional. Yeah, right.

The music blasted my eardrums the moment I crossed the threshold. Faint neon blues and deep reds flashed rhythmically, making it almost impossible to discern a single human face.

"What kind of overly stimulation is this?" I muttered, navigating through the sea of sweating, pulsing bodies.

Suddenly, the DJ cut the music.

"Okay, okay! I see we are all hyped up right now!"

The crowd erupted into a deafening uproar.

"Then we all know what time it is, my ladiessss!" the DJ screamed into his microphone.

The crowd went wilder. What time was it?

"Sexyyyyyyy Lucaaaa!!!!" They chanted in unison.

Right on cue, the house lights went completely black, and a piercing spotlight slammed onto the stage. Standing there was a nearly naked, breathtakingly hot guy.

My jaw dropped. The women around me went into an absolute frenzy. He was a professional dancer, and his body was practically sculpted for sin.

I could stake my life savings on it.

The DJ spun the next track. The familiar beat hit the speakers, and I squealed. "Oh my god! That's my song!"

Let me take you down... I sang along at the top of my lungs, completely caught up in the vibe until Mr. Hot Stuff finished his set and disappeared from the stage.

By then, my throat felt like sandpaper. With the bizarre, elevated way I was already feeling, common sense told me tequila was a terrible idea. But my feet moved much faster than my brain.

I leaned against the bar counter. "Bartender... six shots of Sex on the Beach, please."

"Six shots? Are you trying to forget your own name?" a smooth, male voice murmured from right behind me.

Yes, actually, I was-but that was absolutely none of his business. I turned around, fully prepared to snap, but my eyes widened.

"It's you, isn't it?" he said.

Me? My cheeks instantly flared hot. The dancer from the stage actually knew me? His gaze wasn't exactly cold, but there was no excitement either.

He double-tapped the dark wood of the bar. "Two shots of whiskey, please."

Within seconds, the bartender slid over a lowball glass with ice rattling inside.

The man swirled the amber liquid, leaning in. "You have something that belongs to me."he said.

"I think you are clearly mistaken..." I stammered, utterly confused.

He glanced around the crowded bar cautiously, checking his surroundings before leaning even closer. His breath brushed my ear.

"The little package?..." He cocked his head, waiting.

Sudden, blinding realization hit me like a train. Wait... wait. "The delivery guy?"

He swallowed both shots of whiskey in one fluid motion. "You're trying to be funny," he said, his face a perfect, unreadable poker face.

Before I could reply, the distinct, wailing screech of sirens echoed from right outside the club entrance.

"Fucking hell," he muttered, throwing his head back in annoyance.

"What do they want?" I asked, looking toward the doors. "I thought security here was supposed to be tight."

"We just have to sit back and wait," he said, but instead of waiting, he spun out of his seat.

"Well, where are you going?" I called out.

"Did you really think I was just going to sit here?".

a sharp glance over his shoulder, he grabbed my hand, and yanked me along.

My head continued to spin as he pulled me down a dim, narrow hallway, away from the craziness of the main floor.

"Wait, wait... where are you taking me?" I protested, trying to resist his iron grip on my wrist.

"Shh. Just follow me."

He reached the end of the hall and used his boot to kick open a slightly unlatched door, pulling me inside a private room.

"What is this?!" I cried out, finally wrenching my wrist free.

"I need you to be quiet. It's the least you can do for me right now," he spat, pacing back and forth across the floor like a caged animal.

"You know what I think? I think you're crazy, and I'm calling Becky this exact second," I said, anger finally overtaking my confusion.

"No, you can't bring anyone else into this!" he snapped, his eyes flashing.

"Is this... a kidnap? Are you kidnapping me?"

He stopped dead in his tracks. Slowly, he turned to face me. My heart beat like a bass drum against my ribs with every slow, deliberate step he took toward me. He didn't stop until he completely invaded my personal space, towering over me effortlessly.

This was completely, totally not how I wanted this night to go.

I whimpered softly, refusing to acknowledge the strange, twisted thoughts suddenly flooding my mind.

"Actually, yes. It's a kidnap," he whispered, his warm breath fanning against my nose. "What are you going to do about it?"

Thud. Thud. Thud.

A heavy, violent pounding rattled the door.

" We know you're in there. Open the door!" a firm, authoritative voice echoed from the hallway.

A dark smirk drew across the man's lips. He continued to hover over me, his chest pressing closer and closer against mine.

Everything was happening too fast. My brain couldn't process it. I opened my mouth to scream or say something, but only a faint gasp escaped.

"I need you to close your eyes and stay perfectly still," he murmured, locking his gaze with mine. His eyes issued a silent, heavy dare.

The pounding at the door grew louder, more frantic, but he completely ignored it. Keeping absolute eye contact, he slid his cold hands down my thighs, slowly trailing them upward until his palms rested against the bare skin of my hips.

I swallowed hard. "W-what are you doing?" The words barely managed to escape my throat.

Shakily, I reached out and gripped his broad shoulders for support as his fingers hooked into the fabric of my panties, slowly sliding them down.

Was this really happening? With a guy whose name I didn't even know? I had saved my virginity all these years, only to give it away to some anonymous club dancer in a back room?

"Stop it..." I whispered faintly, though my voice almost cracked.

Suddenly, the door flung open, clicking heavily against the wall.

He reacted instantly, trying to pull my underwear back up, but I shoved him away in a panic.

"I can do it myself!" I hissed. As I adjusted my clothes, I felt something small and hard brush against my bare skin.

"What's that...?" I whispered.

"Shh," he hushed me.

-

"Wait... Victoria?"

The firm, authoritative voice called my name from the doorway.

Oh, shit. This just went from bad to worst.

"What are you doing here with...?" The Deputy's voice trailed off, his eyes shifting to the dancer, who had nonchalantly thrown himself backward onto the room's small daybed.

"You don't talk to my girlfriend that way, Deputy," the man said, a mocking smirk plastered across his face.

"Girlfriend?" the Deputy repeated, his voice laced with disbelief.

In my head, I repeated the word, too. Girlfriend?!

"Officers, search him," the Deputy ordered sharply, his eyes snapping back to me and locking onto my face.

"We received info that this young man, Lucas, is in possession of an illegal substance tonight. A tiny, wrapped-up parcel."

The Deputy clicked his tongue against his teeth, stepping fully into the room.

"But I think I have a much bigger problem on my hands now, don't i?" he said rigidly.

He didn't blink, his gaze suddenly blistering with an equal dose of deep anger and crushing disappointment aimed directly at me.

"Victoria Lurkin. I'm going to as you one last time. What the fuck are you doing here?" He bawled his eyes out asking