Widow In My Bed

Matthew Wallace

I didn't expect to see her again. The woman in the pastel purple dress completely captured my attention. I still remember every curve of her body and the tattoos beautifully engraved on her smooth skin. Perfect.

She was a living doll that had just come out of a glass box with beautiful tattoos I would never forget because every tattoo has a different meaning. I know that very well.

It's still vivid in my memory how she sighed as I kissed the tattoos on her body one by one. A sigh that sounded so beautiful, and among the women I had spent the night with, she was the most attractive when she sighed.

It was the craziest two weeks of my life with a foreign woman in Havana, Cuba, who was still someone else's wife.

If I'm honest, enjoying someone else's property feels very good. You must know what I mean very well. It's like grabbing ice cream from a friend; it feels much better than buying your own. There's a feeling of triumph and excitement that I can't explain.

I was a jerk!

I was, admitted it. It was a curse word that she often said to me. And strangely, I laughed every time she swore at me. It's funny.

Okay, I stand corrected. I still have a few mannerisms in bed. First, I won't sleep with a drunk woman. Second, I won't be a pushy asshole. And finally, no sex with a married woman. But this woman might be an exception because I discovered she was married on our last night in Havana.

I was shocked and very angry with her. I even grabbed her beautiful face like I wanted to destroy my enemies. But what was her reaction? She laughed and said that she would divorce her husband soon.

That woman is like a wild rose. She is so thorny yet always manages to make her look so beautiful.

Back to the present situation.

I wanted to greet her but needed to know her name, cell phone number, or where she came from. That was the deal between me and her. We were just vacation friends with benefits while in Havana. That's what we agreed on so it wouldn't affect our lives.

I reassured my heart once again. Yes, I must be wrong. He must be someone else. But the tattoo couldn't be lying. How could there be anyone who would have the same tattoo characteristics?

Yet why was her face so similar to that woman? Her warm sighs are still ringing in my ears, the sensation of kissing her tattoo is still memorized in my brain, her body that smells like wild roses always manages to attract me to eat her, and the memory of touching her can never make me forget.

But how could that woman be here, at Steve and Kellani's wedding?

Who is she?

The woman's name is Amanda La Howard. I mean the younger sister of the older man, Steve La Howard. My brain couldn't think. I couldn't imagine how the older man would react if he found out I was fucking his younger sister. He would kill me for sure!

After asking Javas Nararya, one of my right-hand men, to investigate the woman, I discovered she lived in Australia. Her words at that time, that she would divorce her husband soon, were truthful.

Amanda La Howard is a widow.

Hey, don't think anything of it. I don't want to make her my lover, let alone my wife.

I've never been in love and am dangerous; my enemies are everywhere. I'm a criminal more than a criminal. So I can't have a wife, let alone children. It will harm them.

I wanted to get acquainted more politely. If Amanda is willing, we can have the same relationship we had in Havana, friends with benefits. Of course, if Amanda accepts a jerk like me gracefully.

Amanda. I like that name.

Amanda La Howard

How did that guy show up here? Damn it!

For some people, meeting abroad and then falling in love is romantic. But for me, love is nothing more than pain. Too much pain to freeze my heart.

Never. Enough. I swear that I will never fall in love again with anyone.

All these wounds started from my marriage to the man I loved so much. Christoper Walker, the man I had been dating since college, finally married me. Chris was the sweetest man I've ever known. I am caring, polite, and quite close to my family. His mom was an old friend of my mom's. Everyone said we were the perfect couple, so much so that we got the title of The King and The Queen at prom night.

Beautiful. I'm sure you think so. We loved each other, our families approved, and then it all ended happily with marriage. But I was wrong, and our marriage was beginning-the beginning of my destruction.

What most people say may be true. Being in a relationship for a long time does not guarantee that we will get to know our partner's identity well. For five years, I dated Chris, and for five years, I sailed the ark of the household with him, which turned out to be a mirage.

In the first year of our marriage, everything was still warm, and nothing had changed. Chris was still romantic and caring. Even when he learned I was pregnant with his child, Chris was so happy he contacted everyone we knew. He always took care of me with love. But things didn't go smoothly in my sixteenth week of pregnancy. I miscarried.

I continued to miscarry three times in a row. The doctor finally discovered the fact that I was suffering from Cervical Incompetence or another name for a weak uterus. This condition is a pregnancy complication that can have serious consequences. A weak womb will cause women to give birth to premature babies, stillbirths or babies born dead, and miscarriages in the second trimester.

Chris still tried to support me. He had accompanied me to therapy several times, although to no avail.

But slowly, everything started to change for the worse. Especially when Chris's family was increasingly pressuring him to have children. In addition, Chris's mother came to our house more often, interfering in my household affairs.

At first, Chris always defended me in front of his mother, but over time, his attitude changed. Chris started ignoring me, coming home late at night for work, and when we had a big fight, he began to play with his hands. Slaps, rough pinches, and punches were a part of my daily life.

I began not to recognize him. The Chris I loved seemed to have been swallowed up by the earth. He completely degraded me with physical attacks, cursing, yelling, and spitting. He treated me like trash.

My self-esteem was destroyed. I was ashamed to tell my family everything. And stupidly, I covered it up.

It all came to a head when Chris started bringing his mistress into our home. The man I had loved for ten years cheated on me. So heartlessly.

I might have survived when Chris tortured me physically and mentally. Because I loved that man so much, I was blinded. But now- I gave up.

I realize I may not be perfect; I'm flawed as a woman. But why did Chris have to bring his mistress into our home? Where's your brain, Chris?

My heart is slicing. It hurts.

I'm sad. I'm hurt. I'm traumatized. And I'm broken. Dissolved. There was nothing left.

That very night, I left. This was my limit. I was devastated, my parents were equally overwhelmed, and even my brother went berserk. Robbin was furious that I came home in tears with bruises all over my body.

I restrained my brother from beating Chris up because I was going to finish things my way. At that time, I still hoped that Chris would realize how precious I was in his life. But it turned out that he had completely changed. I was nothing more than a flawed woman in his eyes.

Since I left, his mistress has been living in our house and is now pregnant. Even worse, instead of apologizing, Walker's family supported his decision.

Our family's pride was tarnished. And the most unhappy is my sister because she has been subjected to domestic violence. They seem to have forgotten who the Howard Family is. Who Steve La Howard is.

Big Brother vowed at that time to destroy the Walker Family by its roots. He made good on his promise by bankrupting the Walker Family Company and then acquiring and reorganizing it.

Big Brother Steve is the Iron Man of my life. He's the most incredible brother I've ever had. I have the utmost respect for him. Respect.

No one knows the depths of the human heart. If God will, everything can change in an instant. That's the advice I should keep in mind.

A few months I am passed. My status has changed. Now I am a...

Widow. I'm the widow.

And right now, I am in one of the most luxurious hotel ballrooms in Jakarta to attend my dear brother's wedding. I'm grateful that Steve finally found a woman who can melt his heart after fifteen years of widowhood.

"Sis!" I called out. "It's time to give a speech. Mommy asked you to get ready."

"Okay. Honey, you and Amanda go first. Mas still wants to meet some important colleagues." My brother said to his wife, Kellani Valery Howard.

I approached my brother, who was holding his wife's hand intimately. But I was surprised by a voice. The same voice I heard in Havana. The man in the navy blue tuxedo stood before me with a glass of champagne in his right hand.

"Amanda?"

He murmured my name softly. The man still recognized me.

"You..."

I was shocked when I first saw his figure. I also still recognize him, a handsome face with messy black hair and jet-black eyes. They looked sharp. But I needed to find out his name.

"Are you friends?" Asked Kellani, who noticed the awkward atmosphere between us.

I just smiled wryly. "How can we be friends if we don't know each other's names? Come on, Kelanni, we're waiting for Mommy."

I immediately took my sister-in-law's hand and left.

The man was like a black shadow that could disappear at any moment.

It was the craziest two weeks of my life in Havana, Cuba. Maybe he was thinking the same thing as me. We were on a friend's vacation with benefits. No, it was telling each other their names, cell phone numbers, or origins. That was the deal. Just sex every time, crazy.

Am I crazy? Yes, I was crazy because, with all the passion inside me, I was willing to be fucked by a stranger I didn't know.

For a woman whose heart has been frozen, love and sex are two different things. Even our sex partner doesn't have to be the person we love.

Well, maybe having sex with the feeling of love does feel much more enjoyable. But I don't care. Right now, both feel the same.

I have to realize that this heart should not fall into the hands of any man. After all, I'm still self-aware that I'm not perfect.

Kellani broke my trance. "You're not friends with Matt?"

"Matt?"

"That guy from earlier. His name is Matthew Wallace." Kellani explained.

Matthew. Ah... what a handsome name, just like him.

5 Months earlier...

Havana Cuba

After three days of exploring the Zapata Peninsula, playing with the animals, swimming in the wild, and exploring some of the lakes, Amanda finally arrived in the oldest city in Latin America, Havana.

In addition to its exotic scenery, this country is also known as a unique and relatively isolated area. Here, we will be treated to music that sounds everywhere, as if without limits, and buildings that are no less unique. Expect to avoid easily getting a cell phone signal here because the network in this country is quite difficult. That may be why some couples spend their honeymoon in this country. Or it could also be an alternative, an escape.

But unfortunately, Amanda flew all the way here not to escape, let alone honeymoon. Amanda hated the word, but she hated her marriage even more. The beautiful woman, who is already in her early thirties, was forced to give up her household at the court table due to cases of domestic violence and infidelity committed by her husband.

Amanda deliberately chose Havana to rest her mind for a moment. She would have gone mad if she had stayed in Australia, struggling with her job as a Senior Executive Chef and her divorce trial, which was only weeks away.

Amanda opened her hotel window to a view of the evening twilight. It looks extraordinary, with the orange sky and sparkling city lights illuminating all corners of Havana.

Music played near Amanda's stay, making her body sway as she unpacked her suitcase. Amanda pulls out tank tops, shorts, tropical print dresses, swimsuits, underwear, pajamas, toiletries, makeup, and a vibrator. Yes, a vibrator!

It's not Amanda who brought it. Her best friend Camila Oliver accidentally put it in her suitcase while helping Amanda pack. Only Camila knew that Amanda was taking a few weeks off to relax her mind in Havana. Even the rest of her family had no idea where Amanda had gone.

"I know that starting next month you will be a widow, like me. But you have to remember Amanda, we are young and have turbulent biological desires. The device is the perfect solution for single women like us." Camila said at the time after helping Amanda pack.

Amanda recalled Camila's advice, and she considered herself to be an experienced teacher. "Camila has no brains!" Amanda said, annoyed.

After half an hour of tidying up and then taking a shower, Amanda was finally ready to attend a festival at the end of every month. Exhibitions, performances, singing, and dancing were the highlights of tonight's celebration.

Amanda was elegant in a white lace dress with straps wrapped around her back. A red ribbon adorned her head, and flat shoes were the best choice for dancing.

This is real Havana, full of music, dancing everywhere, thick Spanish accents, and couples who do not hesitate to make out on the streets. It makes Amanda pause momentarily, envious of their harmony and acceptance of each other.

But I can't be selfish. I can't expect more because I'm not a perfect woman. I failed to be a mother, and I failed to be a wife.

I've cried too much. I must be Strong!

After all, in this world, how could there be a man who would accept a disabled woman like me? Ah, never mind, am I not here to forget everything? To forget my failed marriage. Amanda said to herself, feeling a slight stinging.

After parking the car she had rented, Amanda soon joined the crowd. It was not difficult for her to get used to those beautiful feet dancing. Although Amanda was not good at dancing, she was determined to have fun tonight.

She was shaking her body all by herself, with no friends. Not even a partner. She was occasionally greeting other tourists or locals who tried to offer crafts. Suddenly, unexpectedly, a burly arm wrapped around her stomach.

"Shut up." The voice whispered.

His breath hit the nape of Amanda's ear, making her body tingle slightly. That slight touch awakened the passion she had buried for months.

The man was breathing heavily like he was chasing something. Then, when Amanda tried to rebel, the man clung tighter to her.

He then pleaded. "Just for a minute, stay like this. Do me a favour, just for a minute."

Amanda unconsciously leaned against the chest of the unknown man holding her tightly.

Leaning her jaw on the woman's shoulder, Amanda could feel the mature man's skin, which provoked her passion.

This man... had a thin beard,

with a voice that looked manly,

And his body smelled of Italian musk.

These were the only three things Amanda knew. Amanda had no idea what the man holding her from behind looked like. Maybe people who saw them would think they were a couple in love.

Now Amanda's gaze was on the stranger's arms, which looked tantalizing, studded with fine hairs that were, by God, hot. His biceps were tantalizing with the Panerai watch on his wrist.

At least he's not a Grandpa,

His wrists are sexy,

And he's pretty rich.

Amanda added those three things. Then, the woman observed more intimately. Some rings on the man's fingers caught her attention. But the most exciting thing is the Chopard Blue ring on her middle finger. Amanda knows the large bright blue diamond ring is worth US$ 17 million. And there is only one in the world.

I stand corrected. This man is crazy rich.

Amanda was even more lulled when the pores of their skin rubbed against each other. It made Amanda, who had never felt a man's touch in six months, bite her lips hard.

"Sorry, I'm being presumptuous. Just for a moment, do me a favour." A hoarse voice followed the man's whisper.

The ticklish sensation intensified as the man buried his face in Amanda's shoulder. The man didn't realize that his full lips pressed against Amanda's smooth skin was making her even more helpless.

Amanda was lost in thought. And just as Amanda closed her eyes to savor the slight touch, the stranger let go of her embrace.

"Thank you for your help." The man said, patting Amanda lightly on the shoulder. The man, who seemed hurried, ran off without further ado or showing his face. In disbelief, Amanda stared at the back of the man in the white shirt with the black backpack.

How annoying!

Damn it! I do look like a bitch! Amanda thought to herself.

"Hey asshole! I'll skin you if you appear before me again! Fuck you!" Amanda unconsciously shouted, then raised her middle finger.

It made several festival-goers glance at her. She looked like a crazy woman now. Amanda looked down in shame while saying lo siento, aka I'm Sorry several times.

Amanda had rented a red 1957 Chevy Bel Air, matching the color of her lipstick and the ribbon in her hair - sexy. It was a vintage American car with a roof that opened, roaming Havana's streets.

Now, the beautiful woman with the below-the-shoulder haircut had to go home. The day had changed, and when Amanda looked at her watch, her hands were already at one. Amanda started the engine of her car until suddenly there was a sound-

Brak! (The car door closing very loudly)

A strange man, whom Amanda didn't know, entered her car at one o'clock in the morning. Then, he gave her an arbitrary order.

"Start the car. Now!" Those three words sounded so arrogant to Amanda's ears.

"Who are you? Get out! Now!" Amanda shrieked loudly. It was only natural for a woman to scream when she felt threatened.

Matthew Wallace. The man who had just barged into her car was sitting in the passenger seat with great swagger. Crossing his right leg, he commanded as he pleased, without saying please. After all, what for? Because a BOSS never says please.

No need to ask, is he handsome? You can imagine yourself with an Indo-German face, 192cm tall, brownish skin adorned with perfect biceps, and tattoos that add to his masculinity. It only takes one word to sum it all up.

He is so hot than hell!

The German-born man is a dangerous figure. Matt is the Big BOSS, who is above the other Bosses. He dedicated the De Opera Hotel to his late mother and Juliet De Opera, spread across several countries. But Apartments and Housing are also a front to cover his dark business-casinos, firearms sales, bombs, war rations, narcotics, and thousands of ghost companies.

Matt's Ghost Company is responsible for money laundering all over the world. He divided his assets into several parts handled by thousands of Ghost Companies, broke his company into many companies, and even created companies within companies. So that Matt would remain anonymous. Untraceable.

Back to the current situation.

Matt was getting impatient because he was being chased by time. More specifically, two hours ago, he had felt two men following him. Matt could guess who they were. Most likely, they were sent by his business rival, whose market in Afghanistan Matt had taken over a few months ago.

"You need to get this car running now, or it will crash!" Matt's order was harsh, sounding dominant.

Amanda wasn't afraid to retaliate. "What!? Wretched? You must be a bad person, I'll report you to-"

Matt interrupted. "Now! Run the car, now!" Looking back. He was followed by Amanda, who also looked back. Amanda saw two men in leather jackets walking towards their car. And Amanda's gut feeling told her something terrible would happen if she didn't start the car now.

"Start the car! Now!" Matt said firmly.

Amanda hurriedly started the car and immediately stepped on the gas pedal. Amanda drove like a Formula One driver with the maximum speed that night.

Amanda focused on driving with her brain constantly thinking that she had to leave that place immediately. Then she quickly got rid of the arrogant man who kept talking on his cell phone in German while Amanda became the man's driver. Even the taxi driver always heard the words please from his passengers. Annoying.

A few minutes later, they arrived at a well-lit and busy street, and Amanda stopped the car. She was followed by Matt, who hung up the call.

Matt let out a rough breath. "Hah! Good thing you started the engine right away." He muttered.

Amanda did not respond to the man's words and instead took mineral water from the dashboard of her car. Yes, water would help her eliminate the panic so she could think properly.

As she was about to put the bottle back, Amanda's eyes fell on the fingers of the man next to her.

Chopard blue ring? Thin beard? Italian musk? And the voice?

I know who this guy is. Amanda thought.

Not wanting to waste time to vent her frustration, Amanda immediately-

PLAK!

"Hey lady, why did you hit me on the head?" Asked Matt, confused and annoyed.

"You!" Amanda pointed right at Matt's face. She tried to use all her courage to make a calculation.

"You're a fucking asshole who dared to hug my body carelessly! You must have been following me on purpose and creating drama like earlier, right?" Amanda raised her tone slightly.

"Wait, when did I hug you?" Matt asked, even more confused.

"Festival... at the festival." Then Amanda began to raise her hand to try to hit Matt again.

But apparently, Matt's hand parried it first. Of course, Matt remembered everything. Festivals, with many people crowding around, were the best places to hide and spy on his enemies. But he didn't expect that the random girl he used as a shield was the woman in front of him.

"Purpose? Wild rose? Is that you?" The purpose was the tattoo on the back of Amanda's slender neck. And wild rose was the fragrance of the perfume she used.

"Ha?" His tone was trying to confirm. Amanda was only surprised by Matt, who immediately recognized the scent of her perfume, even noticing the small tattoo on the back of her neck.

"Well, your neck is beautiful. And your tattoos are pretty." Matt said flatly.

It didn't sound like a flirtation, but it sounded nice.

Amanda was silent and

surprised by the man's sudden comment. Should Amanda say thank you?

Thank you. When a man complimented one of her body parts, it looked like a lewd act.

Then Matt suddenly got out of the car. Amanda thought he would leave, but he didn't.

But he didn't. Matt turned around and forced Amanda to move to the passenger seat.

"What?" Amanda asked, exasperated.

"Move now. I'll drive."

"No, you can walk or take a taxi."

"Really?" Matt looked at Amanda with a smirk.

Then, she quickly took off the woman's seatbelt, picked her up, and sat Amanda in the passenger seat. Amanda couldn't even struggle because the man's burly hands had a much firmer grip on her.

Although slightly annoyed, Amanda wanted to see what the man would do next.

"Hey." Amanda spoke up first. "You're not a bad person, are you?" She asked to make sure.

"Evil or good, that's for others to judge. I can't judge myself." Matt replied casually.

"Not only are you arrogant, but you're also good at arguing."

Matt didn't take offense to Amanda's comment. "Businessmen have to be good at everything," Matt replied, even more arrogant.

"Oh, so Mr. arrogant is a businessman."

"Just trading, engaged in export-import." By export-import, I mean you must understand. "So, you, what do you do?" Matt asked Amanda.

"Chef."

"Then you have to cook on my yatch."