Betrayed by my Ex, Became the Billionaire's Obsession

DEMI

The scariest thing happened this week and it still terrifies me despite the fact that it was only three days ago. When I found my mother lying on the floor, unconscious, it felt like my world had crumbled down in a puff. All I could think of at that time were the worst possible scenarios; my life without her, and it wasn't looking pretty. I was in panic when I called 911. It was the fastest thing I could think of.

The doctor said she had low iron levels and she also needed to rest. That doesn't come as a surprise, mother usually has certain episodes of stress and when it happens, she forgets to take care of herself. A series of guilt washes over me, when I realize l wasn't there for her when it happened this time. I've been busy with my job hunt, which hasn't been going well-until this morning, when I got an interview invitation for a secretarial job at one of the biggest companies in New York.

Even though it's the best news I've gotten so far, I'm still not one hundred percent excited. Not when my mother hasn't been discharged yet. My stomach drops at the thought of what might have happened had I arrived later than I did that night.

My mother has been assuring me she's okay for the past thirty minutes.

"You worry too much. I feel fine. I'm being discharged tomorrow, remember?" She has said the same words, but somehow, they're not enough to make me feel calm.

I know she has a point. The doctors wouldn't discharge her if her condition wasn't good.

I'm seated by her side, holding her hand, while we debate about it.

"You should go celebrate with your man. It's your anniversary," she coaxes. "I'll be fine, I promise."

The main reason why we're having this argument is because my boyfriend, Ernest, already made reservations for us and I was planning on cancelling on him to take care of mother. "I won't..." I try to argue but she cuts me off each time.

"You deserve to be happy, sweetheart. If you don't go to that anniversary dinner, it will break my heart, and I will fall ill again. You wouldn't want that to happen, would you?"

A soft laugh escapes my lips. "You're using your manipulation tactics. You're really fine," I conclude.

It's not everyday that manipulation makes one feel better, but yeah, my mother is back to her normal self. Not in a bad way, but she does that when she wants me to do something that makes me happy, and I'm being stubborn, complicating things.

Speaking of happiness, I need to dress well for my man. I can't believe it's our first anniversary. My heart beats in excitement when I realize just how far we've come. A year ago, on our graduation night, Ernest asked me to be his girlfriend, in front of everyone. I can say that was one of the best gifts for my graduation. My best friends love to tease me about how I got out of college with a degree plus a man, and all I can say is that I was the luckiest.

I can't wait to see him, and have the night to ourselves. Especially since this week has been stressful. I might actually need a calm night, in my man's arms.

After bidding my mum goodbye, I dial Leon's number as I make haste out of the hospital.

"Emergency," I say in a hurry.

"I thought you were supposed to be with Ernest, why are you calling me?" Leon asks, and I sense the confusion and concern in his voice.

"I was supposed to cancel, but I didn't, and now, I don't have anything to wear. So, my dearest best friend could you..."

"Get your ass to my apartment, now," he orders.

Leon is the best I could think of. He can miraculously turn someone into a princess in five seconds. He asks me to meet him at his apartment and he does just that. Yeah, that fast.

How he managed to get me the perfect dress exactly my size within that short while, I have no idea. If I asked, I wouldn't get any straight answer-makes sense, considering he's not actually straight.

Anyway, the how doesn't matter, but the end product on the other hand...

When I look at myself in the mirror after he's done my makeup, I'm more than impressed. I smile at my reflection and then at him.

My best friend got me the perfect red dress that fits the occasion. The length, short, half way through my thighs. The upper part is sleeveless, the m-shape at the chest revealing a little of my cleavage, and might I add how seductive this looks.

The make-up is perfect, with the red lipstick whose shade matches my dress. My hair is neatly tied into a ban, which means my skin from my neck to shoulder is exposed .

"You look perfect. He's never going to take his eyes off you," Leon comments and I respond with a smile. Can't wait to see his face.

"Thank you, you're a life saver."

"You can thank me later, but for now, you need to get to your man. The poor guy must have waited a while now."

I check the time, it's 8pm. We were supposed to meet at 7:30.

Anyway, considering I was to cancel, thirty minutes isn't a long time, is it?

Is it strange that he hasn't called to check with me? I'm late, and not a single call?

I brush the thought off, telling myself he trusts me to show up. Thirty minutes isn't a long time to start panicking.

"Take this. It will match your outfit." Leon hands me a black purse, right after helping me put on black heels.

My ride arrives faster than I'd expected, and I quickly state my destination. "Springs Hotel."

Ernest and I had agreed to meet there, since he'd claimed to have some matters to take care of before coming for the dinner.

There being no traffic, the drive doesn't take long. When I get at Springs, I state my details and one of the staff leads me to our reserved table.

Surprisingly, it's empty. I was to call Ernest to cancel, but I didn't, so there's no way he isn't coming. He's probably running late from the errand he had mentioned. I opt for a glass of wine as I wait.

Since my anniversary fell on the day before my job interview, I decide to do some practice for tomorrow while I wait for Ernest.

I practice on how to answer questions, after googling the frequently asked questions for secretaries.

The next thing I know I'm lost in it, that by the time I look up, two hours have passed...and Ernest is not here.

I assumed he'd come soon, that's why I didn't bother calling, but now I'm starting to get worried.

When I dial his number, it goes straight to voicemail. There's no way he forgot about this, right?

Maybe something is wrong. What if something bad happened?

I look around, hoping he'd somehow appear, but no, he doesn't.

I'm caught between waiting a little longer and trying to find out. What if I'm just being paranoid and his errand took longer than he thought it would...

No, he would have called to inform me.

And what if his phone died, making him unable to communicate?

But he would always find a way.

I want to ignore my gut feeling, but it's so strong that I can't. My head is loaded with unanswered questions and a million possibilities.

DEMI

Sitting here, drowning in questions and worry won't help. Since his phone is off, I decide the best I can do is check his apartment first. I hail a cab and quickly jump in, at the same time yelling the address.

The drive seems slower and I want nothing but to jump onto the wheel to take over, but I can't. The driver looks already exhausted by my impatience.

"Could you please drive a little faster?"

He's heard that from me at least five times.

This time, he ignores it.

When we finally arrive, he looks relieved, and his glare tells me, I'm the most annoying person he's driven. I don't have the luxury to give a damn about what strangers think of me. Right now my focus is on whether Ernest is okay.

The elevator is the fastest way to get to the 12th floor, but even it feels slower this time. I'm holding my hope that he's at home, safe and sound. That would mean nothing bad happened, right?

Yeah, and it would also mean, he stood me up on our anniversary.

His door is locked, but luckily for me, I have his key in my bunch. I'm not sure of what I expect but I hope it's not him lying in the floor like I found my mother three days ago. I push away the negative thought.

However, when I open the door, I find no one in his living room, but on the look of things, someone is definitely home, if the clothes haphazardly lying on the floor are any indication.

I feel my heart leave my chest as I scan the area.

There's a white shirt on the floor, a black tie, next to it. On the couch, lies a red dress. I haven't been here since mother was hospitalized, so there's no way that belongs to me. Besides, I'd recognize my dress anywhere. There's also the fact that Ernest is not the untidy type. He wouldn't stand a mess like this.

When I pick it up, a familiar scent hits my nose.

Deep down, I know what exactly might be happening, but I keep on looking for excuses in my head.

As I approach the bedroom, I hear some sounds that confirm my suspicion. I breathe heavily and the sounds get louder the closer I get to the bedroom door.

"Ah, faster baby!" A female voice prevails.

"You're so sweet," a male voice I recognize so well, groans.

"You like it like that?" The female continues.

"I love fucking you. Your pussy is so sweet, I can never have enough." They go on and the closer I get, the more I hear his heavy breaths.

"Aren't you late for your stupid dinner," the woman asks midway.

"I can cancel it just to fuck you the whole night baby," says Ernest. Clearly it's him.

And that female voice? My palm flies to my mouth, as my heart breaks in realization.

"Ah, fuck me harder, baby," she moans louder.

"Harder," she pleads. His groans get louder in response.

The door isn't locked so I peek at the sight that almost makes my world stop.

Two naked adults. The one on top is the one I had been waiting for, for hours at Springs Hotel. The one I was fucking worried about. Looks like he's having the time of his life, sliding into the woman who has his thighs fully spread for him.

They go on, not noticing my presence. The betrayal hits the further I get into the room. I suddenly begin to tremble as if everything is now coming down.

I get closer and pat his shoulder and they both jolt in shock. He quickly gets off her while the woman reaches for the sheets to cover herself.

I had my doubts about the familiarity of the woman's voice, but now that she's looking at me, puzzled, it hurts even more. Laila!

Someone I considered my best friend sleeping with my man?

"Demi," she stutters. "It's not what you think."

I almost laugh but the situation is too dire. My heart feels like it's been shattered to pieces, not being able to take in the betrayal.

"Not what I think?" My pupils widen, like a certain wave of anger has erupted.

"Baby, please," Ernest walks naked to my side, trying to hold me but I move aside to avoid his touch. How dare he touch me with fingers that must have been in places I don't even want to imagine.

I cross my arms, and switch glances between them.

"What the hell am I supposed to think when I find my boyfriend fucking my best friend on his bed, on our anniversary!" I almost screech. My blood is boiling, with a mixture of anger, marinated with hurt. My breaths heighten, as I try hard to fight the tears threatening to fall.

"It was a moment of weakness," he reaches for my hand and I avoid it again.

The famous stupid line. What does he take me for?

"You told me you were running errands," my voice breaks that it almost comes out as a whisper.

"I was..."

"Yeah, clearly," I shoot a sharp glare at the 'errand' who's still at the same spot.

"Demi," she calls out in pleading. I don't know what she's pleading for.

"How could you?" My tone comes out bitter.

"I didn't mean..."

"Didn't mean to what? Sleep with my boyfriend? On the look of things you were enjoying it. And you were aware it was our anniversary. Stupid anniversary? Were those not your words?"

"I didn't..." she tries to counter but I don't let her.

"Don't even," I raise my index finger. "I heard everything."

And how long has this been going on?

I remember something like... I love fucking your pussy. I can never get enough..

That can only add up to one thing. It's not the first time. And the man has the nerve to tell me it was a moment of weakness!

"Laila was feeling overwhelmed about tomorrow's interview. She...she had a panic attack." Ernest rakes his fingers in his hair.

Laila and I are scheduled for the same interview tomorrow. She works for the company but had wanted a promotion to a higher position, which is why she also applied.

Still,

that has got to be the most ridiculous thing I've had the whole day.

"And you have special ways to treat her panic attacks. Are you even listening to yourself?"

Clearly these two are taking me for a fool.

Laila shifts her position to a more comfortable place. Her head against the headboard. She sighs.

"Since you heard everything, there's no point hiding anymore, right?" Laila mutters, the sorry and pleading tone she had earlier has suddenly disappeared.

"You have been so selfish, and Ernest has been there for me," she adds.

I cock a brow, wondering in my head how I have been selfish. All I've ever done is be a good friend to Laila. We've been best friends for goodness' sake. How does Ernest fit here?

"It's not my fault that we developed feelings for each other." She continues ranting, and I still find it ridiculous.

Standing here, between two naked people who clearly don't give a fuck about my feelings is akin to making a fool out of myself.

These two betrayed me and there's no explanation to make anything better.

And it had to be on our anniversary?

The pain cuts through my heart like a sword.

DEMI

Laila's explanations don't make any amount of sense. All I can see is that she's not in the slightest bit sorry. I try to think of the many times I ignored the signs, but I don't have time to figure that out.

After all, It doesn't matter what Laila says to justify their actions or what cooked up explanation Ernest tries to give. They betrayed me and whatever relationship there was, it's over.

One last look at my now ex boyfriend and ex best friend and then I walk out of the room with yells of my name from Ernest filling the air.

I've been trying to bottle up my feelings since I walked in on them, but as soon as I step into the elevator, tears come flooding like they have now been summoned. The wound in my heart is still fresh from five seconds ago.

Lucky for me, I have no audience. I walk through the streets, not knowing my destination, my body still processing everything. My mind is still skewed, making me zone out in thoughts, and the next thing I know, a car comes to a sudden halt in front of me. The speed of my heartbeat accelerates as I come back to reality. That was close.

I expect someone to walk out and shout at me, but surprisingly, there's no action for the next few minutes.

Just me, in front of the car, waiting for someone who isn't getting out any time soon. Seeing no action taking place, I proceed with my journey to nowhere in particular.

It's only when I find somewhere to sit, do I feel my heart calm.

"No, you can't lose control." I mumble to myself.

They don't deserve any feelings from me.

That's when I think, what if something bad had happened to me on the road? Was it really worth it?

After a few minutes of pep talk, I decide to let it all go. They say it's not easy, but accepting is at least the first step. I can't keep on crying because of traitors. They don't deserve a single tear, which is why I decide to drink the night off.

Let tomorrow take care of itself.

I would have invited Leon and Natasha, but tonight, I need to sit this one alone.

It's been a while since I went drinking alone. It's usually the four of us. Sitting at the counter on my own suddenly feels odd....and lonely.

I don't want my feelings to take over again, so as soon as I make myself comfortable, I order three shots of tequila.

The bartender barely turns to pick a bottle when a shot glass appears in front of me, and I don't mean magically.

A hand pushes the shot glass to my side.

I narrow my eyes in confusion as I turn to look at the deputy bartender beside me. It's a man in a black hoodie and a black cap, covering most of the upper part of his face like he's trying to hide. Almost as if he's wanted by the police.

"Looks like you need more than just three," he speaks up with his deep sultry voice that makes my insides rumble.

I push back the glass to his side.

"Sorry, I don't talk to creeps," I say.

A soft laugh escapes his lips. "How quick of you to assume," he counters.

"If you were in my shoes, would you assume otherwise?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Trust me when I tell you, I'm not."

My drinks come before I utter anything else to the stranger. I accept them quickly and take the first shot.

"Why would I trust you?" I ask, scrunching my face.

"Because we're two strangers at a bar, and after this, we'll go our separate ways."

I ignore him and gulp down another shot.

"Boy drama?" He asks as I slum the glass on the counter table. Just something I was trying to forget and then he brings it up.

I stand to walk away but he grabs my wrist before I get past him.

"I just want to have a normal night. Only for today. I don't get that often. So, will you please sit with me?" He requests.

Request? No, scratch that.

He used the word please but his tone is far from pleading. It's almost as if he's ordering me.

I might be riding in a train of insanity, because tell me why, in the next few minutes, I'm sharing drinks with a stranger, ranting about my scornful ex. Right, I tell myself he's a stranger. Is there anything wrong with that? We'll never meet again. Besides, isn't that what people normally do at bars? Normal people would rant to bartenders, but well, okay.

The good thing about my stranger is that he's a good listener. He doesn't give me the sympathetic look and maybe it's because I don't get to see his face fully.

In the middle of our conversation, I ask, "Who are you hiding from?"

He smiles, and for the first time, I get to notice how sexy his lips look when curved. He should do that often. How can a smile look this beautiful yet I don't see his entire face clearly?

"We're on a truth basis, remember? And you're the one who asked me to sit with you. So, don't lie," I remind him.

"Okay," he raises his palms to show surrender.

I cock a brow waiting for his response.

"Would you believe me if I told you I'm hiding from the paparazzi?"

For a split second, I think of it as a lie, but then I remember, "we said no lying, so I do believe you....wait?" I gasp in realization.

"Are you a celebrity?" I pry.

"I wouldn't say that. Let's just call it a public figure."

"Kind of the same difference," I counter, but he disagrees again.

"No, it's not the same."

"So, what are you really doing here? Drinking in this bar...alone."

I gasp again when a thought crosses my mind.

"Don't tell me you also have relationship drama."

"Like I told you, I just wanted a normal day."

I look at him skeptically. How miserable does one have to be? Is he more miserable than me?

Maybe we deserve each other. Brought together by misery.

Silly.

I scold myself for having such thoughts about a stranger. The alcohol must be taking dominance in my brain. I've had quite a number of shots, and even though I don't feel drunk, I can't say I'm fully sober.

On the positive side, he's the one person who's made me smile tonight.

Talking like we've known each other for ages.

"If I asked you to show me your true face, would you?" I probe.

A soft laugh escapes his lips. "You know you're making me wonder if you're one of those undercover paparazzi," he says

Fair point.

Although...we agreed to be honest, since we'll never see each other again, and I remind him just that.

"I'll be too honest with you if I took off this cap."

"Is there a problem?" I ask.

He looks around, leans closer. I feel his intoxicating scent, and for a few seconds, I'm lost in it. Why would someone smell this good?

"If I showed you my true face, what would I get in return?"

It takes a while for my mind to register his question.

A crazy thought crosses my mind. Now that he's closer, can't I just take it off and see who he truly is?