Chapter 2: The Morning After
The morning sun streamed through the curtains of the hotel room, casting a warm glow over the disheveled bed. Charlee Sullivan sat on the edge, her fingers trembling slightly as she fastened the straps of her heels. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions—anger, regret, and a strange sense of liberation. Last night had been a reckless attempt to reclaim control, but now, in the cold light of day, she wasn’t sure if she’d gained anything or just dug herself deeper into chaos.
Behind her, the man—whose name she still didn’t know—lay sprawled across the bed, his muscular frame relaxed and his expression annoyingly smug. He watched her with half-lidded eyes, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. “Leaving so soon?” he drawled, his voice rough from sleep but still dripping with that infuriating charm.
Charlee shot him a glare over her shoulder. “Don’t flatter yourself. This was a one-time thing. I got what I needed, and now I’m done.”
He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling. “What you needed, huh? Bold words for someone who was begging for more a few hours ago.”
Her cheeks flushed, but she refused to let him see how much his words affected her. “You talk too much,” she snapped, standing up and smoothing out her dress. “Remember what I said—we’re nothing to each other now. Stay out of my life.”
As she reached for the door, his voice stopped her. “You know, for someone who’s so desperate to move on, you’re still carrying a lot of baggage. That ex of yours really did a number on you, didn’t he?”
Charlee froze, her hand tightening on the doorknob. She didn’t owe him an explanation, but something about his tone—part teasing, part perceptive—made her want to defend herself. “You don’t know anything about me,” she said coldly.
“Maybe not,” he admitted, sitting up and running a hand through his tousled hair. “But I know what it looks like when someone’s trying to prove something. And sweetheart, you’ve got ‘I’m overcompensating’ written all over you.”
She turned to face him, her eyes blazing. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? Well, newsflash—I don’t need your psychoanalysis. I don’t need anything from you.”
He raised an eyebrow, unfazed by her outburst. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Charlee opened her mouth to retort but stopped herself. Arguing with him was pointless. He was just a stranger, a distraction she’d used to numb the pain. Nothing more. Without another word, she yanked the door open and stepped into the hallway, slamming it shut behind her.
The hotel lobby was quiet, the early hour meaning most guests were still asleep. Charlee kept her head down as she walked, avoiding eye contact with the staff. She didn’t need anyone recognizing her or asking questions. The last thing she wanted was more gossip adding fuel to the fire of her already scandalous life.
As she stepped outside, the crisp morning air hit her face, a stark contrast to the stifling tension of the hotel room. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her head. Last night had been a mistake—a reckless, impulsive mistake—but it was done. Now, she needed to focus on picking up the pieces of her life.
Her phone buzzed in her purse, and she pulled it out, wincing at the flood of notifications. Missed calls, texts, and social media alerts filled the screen. The news of Liam’s betrayal and her public humiliation was everywhere. She scrolled through the headlines, her stomach churning.
“Todd-Sullivan Wedding Disaster: Groom Leaves Bride at Altar for Her Half-Sister!”
“Charlee Sullivan’s Heartbreak: Inside the Scandal That Rocked Jurgh’s Elite.”
She clenched her jaw, shoving the phone back into her purse. The world loved a good scandal, and hers was the juiciest one in years. But she refused to let them see her break. She was a Sullivan, after all. And Sullivans didn’t crumble under pressure.
As she hailed a cab, her mind wandered back to the man in the hotel room. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t shake the memory of his piercing gaze, his confident smirk, and the way he’d effortlessly turned the tables on her. He was dangerous—not just because of his looks or his charm, but because he’d seen through her defenses in a way no one else had.
But it didn’t matter. She’d made her point, and now she was done. Or so she told herself.
Meanwhile, back in the hotel room, the man lounged on the bed, his phone in hand. He scrolled through the news articles about Charlee, a thoughtful expression on his face. She was more than just a spoiled heiress with a broken heart. There was fire in her, a resilience that intrigued him.
He typed out a quick message to an unknown number: “She’s interesting. Keep an eye on her.”
As he hit send, a slow smile spread across his face. Charlee Sullivan thought she was done with him, but he had a feeling their paths would cross again. And next time, he wouldn’t let her walk away so easily.