The Contract With Her Father's Billionaire Rival-Chapter 65. Vodka And Jake.
"That fucking fool!" Nicolette yelled as she paced around the room.
But who was the real fool here?
Her or Alaric?
She placed a hand on her forehead, her frustration boiling over.
Frustration at Alaric. At Alexa. At herself.
"God!" she groaned, her heart squeezing with pain.
Alaric was sitting next to Alexa, who was dressed so shamelessly. She rested her head on his shoulder, watching the moon.
How romantic!
She bet they were going to sleep with each other. Nobody does anything that intimate without it ending in bed.
Alaric was going to fuck Alexa.
Her stomach dropped. Her heart knotted. The pain was unbearable.
She had given herself freely to Alaric. She had let him touch her, she had gone against her own rules about intimacy. Only for it not to mean anything to him.
He went back to Alexa.
She could bet that the wristwatch reminded him of Alexa’s juicy pussy and he just couldn’t wait to have it again.
"Fool!"
This time, the word was for her.
She was the fool who thought having sex with him meant something.
They had done it in the bathroom! There was no nastier sex in the house than that.
The pain crushed her, and her knees buckled. She rushed to the white couch and sat, trying to calm herself.
He was going to win if she gave in to this pain.
Besides, it changes nothing; they were still going to do it anyway.
She clenched her fists as her thoughts drifted to the way Alaric had sucked between her legs. In that moment, her body jerked with heat, and she shot to her feet, sending her anger against the table filled with food.
Everything crashed to the floor, scattering the room.
But she wasn’t done.
She picked up the gifts Alaric had given her, one after the other, and slammed them against the wall.
"Fucking... fool!"
She grabbed the bouquet and threw it against the curtains. Petals fell, littering the room.
She breathed heavily, watching the mess she had made.
Somehow, it calmed her.
She packed her hair behind her ears and walked to the mirror. She had dressed up to spite him in the first place, but when she saw how persistent he was, how he followed her to the bar looking like a lost puppy, she had felt bad about her actions.
She came back inside, ready to listen to his side of the story... until she saw him cuddling with Alexa.
Sitting under the fucking moonlight.
Anger surged through her, but she controlled it.
He didn’t deserve her reaction. She was going to ignore them both—him and Alexa.
She adjusted her gown, fixed her hair again, and walked to the bed. She picked her purse and left the room.
In the corridor, a bodyguard tried to follow her, but she stopped him. "I want to be alone."
"But Mr. Allens—"
"I don’t care," she said. She didn’t shout, but she knew he heard the anger in her voice.
He nodded and backed away.
Nicolette made her way to the elevator and then to the third floor. The instant she entered the room, all eyes were on her again—but she didn’t care.
They were free to stare.
She didn’t choose a chair in the room this time. She went straight to the bar.
"Give me your strongest whatever," she told the waiter behind the counter, leaning in.
The waiter nodded and got to work.
She waited, tapping the counter absentmindedly. She just wanted to get so drunk that she could forget about the night.
She hadn’t even had a chance to eat—Alexa had ruined dinner.
Her phone rang, pulling her out of her thoughts.
She reached for it in her purse and saw that Robert was calling.
Time to block the bastard.
She ignored the call and blocked him. Before her mind could wander to the day’s betrayal, from Robert going to her dad, to Alaric being intimate with Alexa, the waiter returned with her drink.
"Enjoy," he smiled as he passed it over.
Nicolette nodded. She took a sip and winced.
It was way stronger than she expected, but maybe it was just what she needed.
She couldn’t detect all the flavors, but she tasted vodka and lime... or was it lemon?
The tangy flavor burned the back of her throat, causing her to close one eye.
She took another sip, thinking it would be better the second time—but it wasn’t.
"I heard you’re Alaric’s wife."
Nicolette turned to the man who had spoken. He was seated in a wheelchair, with pink hair that looked like it was moisturized every minute.
She had seen him talking to Alaric earlier.
Alaric.
Anger brewed inside her chest.
"Yes," she replied, turning back to her drink.
"You both are not welcome here," he said, his voice harsh. "You should leave tomorrow."
Her brow lifted as she faced him again. "Do I know you?"
"Jake Reed. CEO of this hotel." His voice carried a mix of arrogance and pride. "I’m sure your husband told you about me."
Thinking about Alaric made her chest tighten again, and she reached for her drink.
"I really don’t care about you or him," she said, keeping her voice polite for the almighty bloody CEO. "I just want to enjoy my evening alone."
Instead of leaving, Jake rolled his wheelchair to her side.
"Get me a drink, Juan," he said to the waiter.
Nicolette rolled her eyes. No way was he still here.
"I apologize for my rudeness, Mrs. Allens," Jake said softly.
Nicolette nodded. "Alright."
The waiter returned with his drink, and he raised his glass. "Cheers?"
She turned to him and raised hers as well. "Cheers."
They sipped in silence until Jake spoke again. "So, what did Alaric tell you about me?"
"Nothing. I have no idea who you are," she replied honestly. There was no point lying, especially with the alcohol already making her lightheaded.
"Ah," Jake said.
She couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or impressed.
"Well, let me introduce myself. I used to be a good friend of your husband. Until he changed," Jake said, his voice trailing off.
But Nicolette really didn’t care.
The point of sitting at the bar was not to think about Alaric. Not to talk about him.
Jake seemed to sense her disinterest and he shut up.
Nicolette sipped her drink as guilt crept into her chest. "Sorry," she said softly. "I’m just in a shitty mood."
"Oh, I know all about shitty days," Jake said with a trace of amusement. "I had one today."
She turned to him, setting down her glass. "Want to talk about it?"
His eyes lit with surprise but it was quickly buried. "I was supposed to have a meeting at 10 a.m., but my newly employed PA didn’t add it to my schedule."
"Ouch," she said.
"Not only did I miss an important meeting, I was out listening to jazz. So they thought I skipped the meeting to listen to jazz."
Nicolette threw her head back and laughed. "No way."
Jake laughed with her. "It’s funny now, but it wasn’t then. I was so mad. Everybody had something to say."
She couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up inside her. The more she laughed, the more lightheaded she felt.
But she loved it. She loved how free she felt.
Jake moved his wheelchair closer. "She made another mistake."
Nicolette looked at him. "Another one?"
"Yup. This time she mixed up my yoga time with another meeting. Imagine me coming in wearing yoga pants, trying to lead a meeting."
She nearly choked on her spit from laughing. "Oh my God," she coughed, reaching for her drink.
Her heart felt lighter, just sitting under the bright light, sharing drinks with Jake.
She took another sip, and as she turned to Jake, her eyes landed on Alaric.
He was standing at the door, his eyes gleaming with annoyance, his clothes wet.
The judgment in his eyes made her throat dry, but she swallowed it.
Fuck him for judging her for having a good time.
Jake’s eyes followed hers, and he saw Alaric too. He cleared his throat, his laughter fading. "Guess it’s time to say goodbye. Now I feel bad for asking you to leave tomorrow."
No way was she going to meet him.
She watched as Alaric studied her, waiting for her next move.
Instead of standing up, Nicolette turned to the waiter. "Another glass of whatever this is." Then she turned to Jake, who couldn’t hide the excitement on his face. "Aside from yoga and jazz, what other activities do you take part in?"
As Jake began to speak, Nicolette watched Alaric turn toward the elevator, his shoulders hunched.
