The moment our eyes met

Belinda Chapman's POV

I packed my car and looked at myself in the mirror one last time before going over the contract I drafted, then got out of the car. My excitement was brimming, as it was another day to show my fiancé what I was capable of. I got to the door of his penthouse and imprinted my fingerprint, walking in immediately as the door opened to my command. His penthouse was situated far on the outskirts of the city, and according to him, he loved the solitude of it-the quiet trees that led to it, the quiet environment. I got in and smiled at the portrait he hung beside his huge television, then walked right up the stairs. My steps were gentle, just like he always wanted.

I was getting married to William Walker, the only grandson and heir to the Walker Corporation. I got to the door, my hand on the knob, when I heard his mumbling, so I paused.

"You hate me... you don't love me. Every time you bring the same old shit up. We just had sex to make up, and you're bringing it up again," he said, and I froze. He was sleeping with someone else; my heart shuddered. "Say something, just say something. I hate this constant talk of my marriage. You pushed me into having to deal with that trash. If you'd agreed to marry me, I wouldn't have to deal with her," he added, and my breath caught. He had just referred to me as trash? Trash?

I let go of the handle and was going to leave when another voice caught me.

"Well, you're getting married in the next two weeks, and you'll have to stay stuck with her. Nothing changes."

That voice was too familiar to be true. No, it could not be.

"I'll just send her off on a trip, and we'll have our time together-a week together, honey. We'll go somewhere different to have fun," he said, and I could clearly hear her grumble. It was her. Her.

"That sounds like a good idea. Fine, I'll deal with that."

I couldn't listen to the rest. I stumbled over my feet and staggered down the stairs to the door, my hands shaking as I placed my finger on the fingerprint scanner, then straight to the car. I didn't think twice. I drove out through the open gate and just kept driving down the open road, my car swerving right and left, my brain juggling thoughts before I slammed straight into a tree. My head hit the wheel violently, but somehow I felt no pain. What pain was there to feel other than the fact that my fiancé-the man I was getting married to in the next two weeks-was cheating on me with none other than my twin sister, Melinda Chapman?

Maybe I was the foolish one. I was the quiet one. I was the one who took all the insults. I was the one who wanted peace. I never retaliated. I never argued with anyone. I obeyed every instruction, swallowed every insult. I stayed there in the car William gave me when he got his new ride. I just sat there, my eyes too dry for tears. He had hurt me too much-no, they had hurt me too much. Melinda always wanted everything I had, but who would have thought she'd go as far as William, the one person I loved for years?

My phone started ringing, and I ignored it. It rang again. I reached for my bag and rummaged through it. It was William calling. I stared at the screen, my heart hammering, my eyes suddenly swelling with tears, every emotion rushing through. The call cut off, then started again. I picked it up this time.

"Do you even know the essence of a digital phone, Belinda?" his voice snapped through. He held me in no regard. I always wanted to prove my worth. "Belinda," he called again.

"Yes," I answered, forcing myself to hold the tears in.

"The whole wedding thing is draining, so I want to be a good man and send you on a trip to Mora for a week," he rattled off in one breath. "Get your stuff ready. You're leaving by tomorrow..." he said, and I snorted.

"I am not going to Mora," I said, relaxing into the seat.

"What did you say?" He was utterly surprised. Yeah, I never went against his words.

"I am not going to Mora," I repeated. "I am going to Penelope," I added.

"Pen what? Who will pay?" he asked. Penelope was an expensive country to visit. If he was going to send me off, then I wanted a comfortable place that would leave a hole in his account.

"You, my darling, of course. You're more than capable, ain't you?" I fueled his ego.

"Uhm, Belinda, we have a wedding to plan, and we need to be unders-" he started.

"Our parents are doing that," I cut in. "Just a trip, William," I added, as though the trip had been my idea initially.

"Fine..." There was my sister's surprised snort in the background, but I chose to ignore it.

"Penelope it is," I said and ended the call on him. This was literally the first time I'd ended a call on him, and somehow, I felt satisfied. I was going to go on that trip, and I was going to live my life, try to think, and get my head straight. I called my best friend to come pick me up and stayed there for hours until she arrived.

Staying on the plane was draining, but I cared less regardless. I watched the plane forge through the clouds and let my mind wander until we got to Penelope. Penelope was a very beautiful country. I had literally never been here, and I'd only heard of it years back. I stayed at the airport, and when the people William paid to tend to me arrived, I left them to handle the procedure of getting my bag, took a cab to the hotel that had been booked ahead of time for me. The cab parked in front of Minestar Hotel, and I couldn't tell the difference between this building and a sightseeing show. It was beautiful.

I walked in with my bag in hand. Security examined me, and I went to the reception. The waterfall at the reception was captivating-the floral scent, the way the area was less crowded. I was so glad I chose this hotel. I had Google-searched hotels in Penelope at Lydia's place and chosen the most expensive before going home to pack my stuff.

"Belinda Chapman," I said as I got to the reception. The receptionist checked the computer, then pulled out a card for me.

"You're welcome to Minestar Hotel, ma'am. Always ring the bell by your bedstand to ask for anything," she said, and I stared at the card. Room 010. Yeah, I'd requested VIP only.

"My luggage will be here in a bit. Bring it up to my room," I said, and she responded with a smile. I walked toward the elevator in the distance and saw a lady coming out, then got in and pressed the number for my floor. I stayed inside, feeling the movement. A minute later, the doors opened, and I looked around the floor. Why was there only one door? I walked to it and saw it was slightly open. That was odd for a hotel-I was supposed to scan my door with my card. Anyway, I pushed it open and stepped inside, only to curse immediately.

"Holy fucking shit," I said as my eyes fell on the naked man in the room, sitting by the glass window with a hemp between his fingers, one leg crossed over the other. A ray of sunlight graced his skin like he was a demigod who owned it. I turned sharply before my brain could process what I'd just seen and realized the door had closed behind me. I turned the handle, turned it again. It was locked. I paused and gulped. "Belinda, you're in deep shit right now," my mind whispered as I stood there, waiting for a miracle to happen.

Over a minute passed, and I didn't hear a movement or sound from the man in the room, so I turned around to face him. He was still sitting by the window like a sculpture made to be sin, the hemp still in his hand, his eyes locked on mine. I tried to breathe and took a step into the room.

"Uhmm... I..." I started, but shut my mouth when he dropped his leg and stood up. Heaven gracious-he had a huge cock. I blinked, my body already getting wet. "Belinda, please," I begged my body as my mouth fell open, my eyes darting between need and embarrassment.

"Who are you?" he asked as he pressed the hemp into the ashtray on the table.