The fitness king falls in love after that night

Marcus hated surprises.

Which was exactly why I smiled as I unlocked the apartment door with the spare key Marcus had given me months ago.

Today marked five years together

"Men don't always appreciate surprises," Sandra had teased.

I laughed.

Marcus wasn't any other man; he was the love of my life.

The man I'd trusted with my heart, my future... and the man I had planned to spend the rest of my life with.

I stepped in quietly, balancing the small cake box in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. The lights were off. No music. No television.

My lips curved slightly as I nudged the door shut with my heel, already picturing the look on his face.

"Marcus?" I called softly.

There was no response.

I frowned.

He should have been home. He said he would be.

Maybe he was in the shower.

I moved deeper into the apartment, heels clicking softly against the tiled floor, my pulse beginning to pick up.

Then I heard a sound,Breath against breath.

My steps slowed.

Another sound followed,a muffled laugh. Low and Intimate.

My fingers tightened around the wine bottle.

"Marcus?" I called again, quieter this time.

No answer.

Just the same sound, the same rhythm.

My hand trembled as I pushed the door open.

My world shattered.

Marcus was naked, moving over another woman tangled in white sheets.

The woman couldn't have been older than twenty-two. Long blonde hair spilled over the pillow, her sun-kissed skin glowing beneath the afternoon light.

Sheets tangled. Skin against skin. A woman beneath him, her fingers gripping his shoulders like she belonged there.

For a second, I didn't move.Then Marcus turned.Our eyes met.

And everything inside me cracked.

"Bianca...."He called out.

The cake slipped from my hand.

It hit the floor with a dull thud, frosting smearing across the tiles.

The wine bottle followed, rolling.

"Get out." I screamed.

The words were low. Flat.

I wasn't even sure who said them.

Maybe it was me.

Maybe it wasn't.

The woman scrambled, pulling the sheets over herself, eyes wide, but I didn't look at her again.

I only looked at Marcus.

At the man I thought I knew.

"You said you were working late," he said, my voice barely holding together.

Marcus ran a hand through his hair, already irritated, already defensive.

"Bianca, I can explain..."

"Don't."

My voice broke.

I took a step back,then another.

"How had he managed to destroy everything I'd spent years building?"

The questions crashed endlessly through my mind.

Was every "I love you" another lie?

"What... the hell... is this?"

Tears ran down my cheeks.

My own voice sounded distant.

Marcus stumbled off the bed.

As he reached for me, I pushed him immediately.

"No, don't touch me."

His hand froze as I avoided him.

"I'm sorry, Bianca. It was a mistake," Marcus responded as he tried to steady his dress.

"A mistake?"

"You don't accidentally sleep with someone else," I responded.

Marcus lowered his head.

"It only happened once, Bianca. I swear with my life."

Did it?

Or was this simply the first time I'd caught you?

"Sandra..."

Had she been trying to warn me?

Has everyone known except me?

"God... How stupid have I been?"

Tears blurred my vision.

I looked around the apartment.

Every corner held a memory.

Now each memory suddenly felt poisoned.

"I'm done."

I grabbed my handbag.Marcus hurried after me.

"Please don't leave."He pleaded.

"There was nothing left to stay for," I sighed as I took off my heels.

The apartment door slammed behind me.

Inside the elevator, I repeatedly pressed the close button.

"Bianca!"

Marcus appeared just before the doors shut.

For a brief second, our eyes met again.

I only saw regret.The elevator doors closed.

Only then did I collapse against the mirrored wall.The tears came all at once.

Outside, the city carried on.

Nearly an hour later, I found myself standing outside a quiet bar.

I didn't remember how I'd gotten there.

My makeup was ruined,my chest still hurt.

My home wasn't an option.

Not while everything I had reminded me of Marcus.I walked inside.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asked gently.I stared at the bottles lined across the shelf.

"Something strong."

As the bottle of wine arrived, I took the drink immediately.

The first glass burned.

The second started to blur my thoughts.

By the third, exhaustion finally won.

I rested my head against the counter and drifted into sleep.

...

"Ma'am."

A voice pulled me awake.

A sharp throb split through my skull.

I flinched, my brows tightening as I slowly lifted my head. My mouth felt dry, my tongue heavy, and my vision lagged a second behind when I blinked.

The bar was almost empty.

"We're closing," the bartender said.

I pressed my fingers lightly against my temple, trying to steady the dull pounding in my head.

I checked the time.

It was already past 12 AM.

A flicker of panic pushed through the haze as I immediately opened a ride-hailing app.

"No drivers," I sighed.

I refreshed it, squinting at the screen, but the letters swam slightly.

Still nothing.

Seeing the frustration on my face, the bartender spoke again.

"There's a hotel across the street. It's expensive, but at least you'll be safe tonight."

I looked through the window.

A magnificent building towered across the road, glowing beneath golden lights.

I crossed the street.

Everything about the place whispered luxury.

The towering ceilings, polished marble floors, crystal chandeliers and the rest.

Soft piano music echoed through the grand lobby as I walked to the reception.

"Good evening, ma'am." The tall, smiley receptionist greeted me.

"I'm looking for a room," I replied to her.

The receptionist checked the system.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. All our standard rooms are fully booked tonight."

I forced a smile.

"Is there anything else?"

"The only room available is one of our VIP suites," the receptionist replied as she listed the prices for each room.

My heart sank.

I checked my account balance.

I could afford a normal hoterrtl without thinking twice.

But spending thousands of dollars on one night? That wasn't something I had planned for.

"There has to be another room," I said.

"I'm afraid not, ma'am," the receptionist answered me.

I briefly explained my situation, just enough for them to understand I had nowhere else to go.

The hotel manager happened to overhear.

After a long pause, he sighed.

"We'll reduce the rate, ma'am."

Even after the discount, I still couldn't pay the full amount immediately.

"Please, sir... I can pay part of it tonight. I'll settle the balance tomorrow morning."

The manager studied me for a few seconds before nodding.

"Okay then. You can settle the balance tomorrow."

Relief washed over me.

I thanked him, and I paid everything I could.

At that very moment, another receptionist answered a phone call.

"Yes, Mr. Kane. Certainly. We'll make sure your guest is given access when they arrive."

The receptionist quickly wrote down the note before walking away to assist another guest.

Moments later, my registration reached the same desk.

The tired receptionist glanced at the note, then at my identification.

Believing I was the expected guest, the receptionist smiled, programmed a key card, and handed it to me.

"Enjoy your stay, ma'am."

I stepped into the elevator.

I found Room MC1010.

I inserted the card.

A soft beep followed.

The door unlocked.

I stepped inside and quietly closed it behind me.

The suite was unlike anything I had ever seen.

Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the glittering lights of Los Angeles. Every corner reflected wealth, comfort, and privacy.

For the first time that day, I slowly let out the breath I'd been holding.

I sat on the bed for a while to gather a little strength.

I had no idea I had just walked into the private suite of a stranger

"This was enough. Maybe one night in this luxury room was exactly what I needed," I whispered to myself.

I slipped the key card onto the console table and kicked off my heels, wincing at the ache in my feet.

The silence wrapped around me.

I let out a slow breath.

Tomorrow I'll decide what to do.

I picked up a fluffy white bathrobe resting on the bed before heading toward the bathroom.

The warm shower washed away the sweat on my skin.

Water streamed down my face as I closed my eyes.

If someone had told me this morning that I'd end the day alone in a luxury hotel after catching my fiancé cheating, I would've laughed at it.

Now it felt like someone else's life.

Or maybe... it had always been.

Maybe I'd only been living inside a beautiful lie.

I stayed beneath the water until my breathing steadied.

I stepped out of the bathtub, wrapping a towel around myself, and pushed open the bathroom door.

I froze.

A man stood near the bed.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. His shirt lay carelessly across a chair while one hand rested on the waistband of his boxers, almost at his knees.

He looked up at the same moment.

Our eyes locked.

For a heartbeat, neither of us moved.

Then my fingers slackened, and the towel slipped from my body.

My breasts and curves were fully exposed, leaving me completely vulnerable beneath his gaze.

"Oh my God"

I grabbed the towel immediately, cheeks burning.

This couldn't be happening.

The man's gaze flickered.

A slow realization threaded through my thoughts,still slightly blurred from the drinks I'd had earlier after walking in on Marcus.

I stared at him.

I should have walked away.

Every sensible part of me screamed that I should grab my clothes and run.

I knew that.

But I didn't.

Tomorrow I would probably hate myself for staying, but tomorrow felt impossibly far away. Tonight, I was simply a woman whose world had collapsed, and the alcohol in my blood made everything feel a little softer around the edges.

The man didn't move closer.

He waited. The silence stretched between us.

I took one slow step forward.

Then another.

My heart was racing,not only from shock, but from the sudden, sharp pull of attraction that hit me hard and without warning.

The stranger was everything a woman could want physically in a man.

I desperately needed to forget the image of Marcus with another woman.

He searched my eyes, his gaze lingering.

"One disaster in a single night was already too much," my inner thoughts whispered, but they felt distant, muffled.

So why weren't my feet moving?

Why was I still looking at him?

He was simply looking at me...

as though he was trying to understand how someone could carry so much sadness behind one pair of eyes.

Something inside me cracked.

Marcus had an affair with another woman only a few hours ago.

This might be my turn.

I held his gaze.

I gave the smallest nod.

Before I could speak, the door behind him clicked locked.

The way his expression changed told me one thing clearly.

He wasn't leaving.

"I... I..." The words wouldn't come properly. My tongue felt thick.

He turned slightly at first, then stopped as his eyes found me again.

The room was silent except for the uneven rhythm of our breathing.

The distance between us disappeared without either of us really deciding it.

My fingers closed around his wrist.

"Don't go," I whispered, the words coming out before I could think them through.

I didn't want to be alone.

Not tonight.

Not with the alcohol still warm in my veins and the image of Marcus burned behind my eyes.

He looked down at my hand, then back into my eyes. I didn't let go. I closed the small distance between us instead.

Our lips met clumsily at first,mine too eager, his firm and surprising.

The kiss deepened fast, neither of us careful.

I tasted the faint heat of whatever he'd been drinking.

When his tongue slid against mine I made a low, needy sound and pushed closer, pressing my bare body against his.

The towel dropped completely this time.

His hands gripped my waist hard, then slid up, palms rough against my breasts.

I arched into the touch without thinking, the alcohol making every sensation sharper and less filtered.

He broke the kiss only long enough to look at me once more.

I answered by pulling his mouth back to mine.

That was enough.

He lowered his head and kissed the side of my neck, harder this time, teeth scraping just enough to make me gasp.

His mouth moved lower, over my collarbone, then closed over one breast.

Heat flooded me.

His tongue was firm, almost greedy, sucking hard enough that my knees weakened. I moaned, fingers sliding into his hair, holding him there like I was afraid he'd stop.

He switched to the other breast with the same hungry attention while one hand shoved between my legs. I was already wet.

He pushed two fingers inside me without much warning. My head dropped back.

A broken sound left my throat.

He walked me backward until we hit the mattress and fell onto it together.

I tugged at his boxers, shoving them down with impatient hands.

His cock sprang free-thick, hard, already wet at the tip. He groaned and caught my wrist, pinning it above my head.

Then he settled between my thighs and pushed in hard and deep in one continuous thrust.

The stretch burned.

I cried out, nails digging into his shoulder.

He didn't wait for me to fully adjust.

He started moving right away deep, insistent strokes that forced the air from my lungs.

Every thrust was driven by the same raw need I felt. No careful pacing.

Just heat and friction and the desperate need to feel something other than heartbreak.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him deeper, meeting every thrust with my own. The wet sound of our bodies filled the quiet room, mixed with my unrestrained moans and his rough breathing against my neck.

He shifted the angle and hit a spot that made my back arch hard off the bed.

I came faster than I expected, shaking, almost violent,clenching around him while a cry tore from my throat.

He followed soon after with a low, guttural sound, burying himself deep as he finished inside me.

We didn't stop there.

The second time was even less controlled. He held my hands and knees, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to leave marks, the headboard knocking softly against the wall.

I came again with my face pressed into the pillow, intense.

Later still, when the first rush had burned down into something slower but no less hungry, he took me again, slower only because our bodies were already spent.

I lost track of how many times I moaned without even knowing it. Each orgasm pulled another piece of the day's pain out of me and left only the solid weight of him and the temporary quiet in my head.

Eventually we collapsed, exhausted and sticky, sheets tangled around our legs.

I lay against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, the last traces of alcohol still humming under my skin.

For a few stolen hours, the image of Marcus with another woman no longer existed.

A night that started with heartbreak had become something else entirely.

I found myself standing at the edge of something dangerously different.

Neither of us stopped it. Because for me, this wasn't just about him; it was about escape.

About reclaiming something that had been taken from me hours ago.

I didn't know I was beside the most influential man in the city.

And neither of us would be able to undo what one broken, reckless night had set into motion.

For me, it felt like something neither of us had expected,an instant, almost violent connection that neither of us could stop.

The world outside continued without us.

What had I just stepped into?

And what would it cost me when the night was over?

A quiet panic surged through me.

I pulled the sheet up quickly, my fingers gripping the fabric as if it could undo what had already happened.

My gaze darted across the room, landing on my clothes scattered like evidence I didn't want to face.

This wasn't my life.This wasn't supposed to happen.

I needed to leave immediately.

Moving as carefully as I could, I tried to slip out of the bed, wrapping the sheet tightly around myself as I reached for my dress.

But unfortunately, it was still far from me, and the more I stretched, the more the bedsheets slipped away from the stranger who was also naked.

The stranger, on the other hand, woke up immediately as he felt the bedsheet leaving him.

My hands trembled from urgency.

"Hey, are you going already?"

The masculine voice stopped me cold.

I froze and turned slowly.

He was awake.

He hadn't moved much, but his eyes were open now, clear, focused, watching me like he had been awake longer than I realized.

"Don't," I said quickly, my voice tight. "Please, nothing happened. There was nothing between us."

He exhaled lightly, pushing himself up against the headboard.

He said calmly, "What exactly am I not saying?"

I swallowed.

"This," I gestured faintly between us, my grip tightening on the sheet. "Last night. It didn't happen."

His brow lifted slightly.

"It didn't?" He smiled faintly.

"No," I insisted, forcing steadiness into my voice. "It was a mistake. I don't even know who you are."

He studied me in silence for a second, then he also looked below the bedsheet, seeing that he was also naked.

He paused,then he continued.

"I don't know how we ended up here, but..." He stopped, his expression tightening slightly, as if something about it didn't sit right with him.

"I don't usually bring anyone here, last night, how... I must have been careless. Oh my gosh." He scratched his head as he spoke.

"Who are you?" the stranger asked.

There was no response.

Then he continued.

"Okay, okay. Let me introduce myself. I am Robert Kane. People call me the Fitness King."

My breath caught slightly.

"I am Bianca Monroe."

Then the room was silent for a few seconds until I broke the silence.

"Please, what is this room number?" I asked.

"MC1010. How did you get here, by the way?" he replied with a puzzled expression.

He seemed genuinely confused, as though this had never happened before, like he normally locked his door before leaving, and only staff he trusted could access this floor.

A sharp knock echoed through the room, making both of us still.

"Robert... Robert," a voice called from the other side of the door.

It was a feminine voice that sounded like a lady above fifty.

The voice was controlled and familiar with authority.

"Who is that?" My heart dropped as I whispered to Robert.

"Don't open it," I whispered quickly. "Please. If someone sees me here..."

Panic flashed across my face as my eyes searched the room, but there was nowhere to hide.

No closet close enough.

No time to reach the bathroom without being seen.

Another knock.

Firmer this time.

"Robert, open the door. We are here to see you," the voice outside the room resounded.

Robert knew who she was. He recognized her voice immediately.

She was not alone.

She was with a potential investor and board representatives who had insisted on meeting him early about a contract that required his direct approval.

"Robert, open the door. We are here to see you," the lady spoke again, louder this time.My pulse spiked.

Robert didn't answer.

His gaze shifted briefly toward the door, then back to me.

"It's my mum," he said quietly.

I shook my head, backing up slightly as the weight of the situation closed in.

"No. No, you don't understand. This cannot, this must not..."

The handle moved.My breath was cut.

The door opened.

Standing there, sharp, composed, eyes already assessing the room in a single sweep, was Victoria Kane.

I didn't know her, but there was something in the way she carried herself, something in the silence that followed her, that made the air feel heavier.

Her gaze landed on me.

So did the crew members who followed her.A flicker of surprise passed through one of them,another quickly looked away.

One exchanged a brief glance with the other, tension unspoken but clear as they took in everything, the disheveled state, the distance, the unmistakable implication.

Silence fell.

Only then did it seem to register on Robert's face, he had told the receptionist to give his mother and the guests coming to see him a card to his room, and his silence must have been what made her open the door.

I instinctively stepped back, clutching the sheet tighter, my entire body going rigid under that piercing stare.

"I... this isn't..." I started, the words failing before they could form.

Victoria's eyes shifted to her son.

"Robert," she said, her tone precise. "Who is she?"

The room became quiet.

My heart pounded so loudly I was sure they could all hear it.

I turned toward Robert, my voice dropping, heart pounding.

For the moment, Robert said nothing.

Then Robert reached for my hand.

My breath hitched as his fingers closed around mine, firm, deliberate, leaving no space for hesitation.

And then, he spoke.

"Mother," Robert said evenly, his voice carrying the weight of certainty.

I felt my pulse stop.

Robert looked at me, then at his mother.

His expression never changed.

"Mother..."

"...this is Bianca."

A brief silence followed.

"My fiancée."

The room reacted this time.

A quiet intake of breath.

A subtle shift among the people behind her.

One of them straightened, another glanced again, more carefully now, as if reassessing everything they thought they understood.

Victoria Kane scanned me again, slower this time.

My fingers tightened instinctively in his grip, my mind struggling to catch up with the words that had just changed everything

Victoria didn't react immediately.

Which was worse?

"Then," she said, her eyes locking onto me with quiet authority,

"You will both be attending tonight's board dinner."

"Where she will be introduced... properly."

"By the way, Robert, where is the script?" she continued.

Robert stretched his hands to the wardrobe beside him and brought a huge briefcase, and stretched his hands, gesturing to one of the workers who came with his mum.

At that moment, they all realized the details of everything that had happened.

The young lady took the briefcase from him as she tried not to look at him, and then she left together with Victoria Kane.

My breath left me.

Because this wasn't just a lie anymore.

It was a stage.

"What have I gotten myself into?" I asked myself as I was lost in thought.

Robert had just pulled me straight into it.

A world I wasn't ready for.