The Return of the Cannon Fodder Trillion Heiress-Chapter 881 Shamelessness Is Contagious

Xavier gave her a silent look, still tense, but she knew he was only being cautious because he cared. As a world-renowned actor, Xavier had millions of fans globally. If anyone recognized him while he was out with Hera, a swarm of photo requests and autograph seekers would be inevitable, and that could very well throw off Hera’s schedule.

Not long after, a soft but distinct chime echoed through the suite, a long doorbell ring.

Xavier moved to answer it while Hera double-checked the things she planned to bring with her. A moment later, as she walked into the living room, she froze at the sight before her.

Xavier stood near the door, scowling, clear displeasure on his face.

And on the couch...

Alexandre and Antoine.

But it was Alexandre who made Hera gasp. He looked like a total mess, haggard, with dark circles under his eyes, slightly disheveled, and with a dazed, haunted expression. He raised his eyes and spotted Hera, offering a weak, wry smile, one that looked like it teetered on the edge of tears. He looked utterly defeated, like a man who had been emotionally steamrolled all night.

Like someone had thoroughly bullied him.

Hera nearly panicked when she saw him, but Xavier just snorted and threw a dry, backhanded comment. "Serves you right..." he muttered, clearly amused.

Hera didn’t understand what was going on, but it was obvious that Xavier and Alexandre were communicating without saying much at all. Alexandre slumped into his seat in silence, looking thoroughly worn out. Antoine, meanwhile, glanced between Hera and Xavier, visibly dazed.

At that moment, only the four of them were on the sofa. The others were either still asleep or busy getting ready in their rooms. The quiet lingered for a few seconds until Antoine broke it with a grin. "He looks like that because he spent all night being tortured, listening to you two going at it like animals. I swear, I even suspect Xavier wrecked the damn bed—"

Before he could finish, Alexandre elbowed him hard in the ribs. Antoine doubled over, coughing and wheezing as he clutched his side, writhing like a wounded worm.

Hera’s face turned beet red at Antoine’s words, burning with embarrassment. Meanwhile, Xavier wore a smug, unrepentant smile, flashing a look at Alexandre that said, ’Yeah, I did it on purpose.’ And Hera knew, he absolutely did.

What Hera didn’t know was that her master bedroom was directly above Alexandre’s room, and because of that, he could hear everything, from the soft creaking of the bed to her moans last night. The sounds stirred something in him, sending heat coursing through his body and filling his mind with thoughts he wasn’t proud of. For a moment, he even considered touching himself just from listening, but guilt crept in. He knew it was wrong to intrude, even unintentionally, on someone’s private moment.

Yet what unsettled him even more was his reaction.

Instead of feeling jealous, angry, or hurt after hearing Hera and Xavier together, not just last night, but even this morning before they came upstairs, he felt something else: excitement. And that frightened him. Was this one of his hidden kinks? Had he subconsciously accepted his place, accepted the idea of sharing a woman with another man so easily?

He didn’t know what to think anymore.

Long after Hera and Xavier had fallen asleep, Alexandre lay wide awake, plagued by his thoughts. He questioned his feelings, his identity, and his desires, yet no answers came. Just confusion. Just torment. And an aching sense that something inside him had changed in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

But how had Alexandre heard everything so clearly, especially when they were staying in a high-end hotel meant to cater to the wealthy and elite?

The answer, unfortunately for him, lay in the building’s heritage. Unlike the modern constructions in Hera’s home country, which boasted thick walls and excellent soundproofing, the Imperial Hotel in Paris was a historical landmark, one of the oldest in the city. Its architecture was preserved as part of its charm, and soundproofing was sacrificed in favor of authenticity. That meant thinner walls, creaky floors, and far too much sound travel.

To make matters worse, Xavier, whether by accident or on purpose, had left the balcony doors wide open in Hera’s suite. The hotel didn’t have air conditioning, so it made sense. But what made it worse was the unfortunate alignment: Alexandre’s room was directly below Hera’s, and he too had his windows open for the night air. Xavier likely knew this.

So, with the perfect storm of open windows, thin walls, and zero privacy, Alexandre had heard everything. Hera’s cries, her moans, the low, husky way Xavier tried (and failed) to muffle her voice. The sounds burned into Alexandre’s ears, awakening a heat and restlessness he tried desperately to suppress. He had his own battles that night, fighting the urge to touch himself, reminding himself of boundaries, of decency. Instead, he took a cold shower, willing the tension away.

But the peace didn’t last long.

Just when things had calmed, Xavier woke up and started again, without shame, without restraint. By morning, Alexandre hadn’t slept a wink. He dragged himself out of bed, with dark circles under his eyes, and headed up to Hera’s presidential suite, hoping to accompany her to the venue for her race.

He didn’t say anything. He wasn’t looking for pity. He was just... tired. Drained. And quietly defeated by a night he wished he could forget, but knew he never would.

But maybe... he didn’t actually want to forget that night.

Hera’s sultry, breathy moans were burned into his memory, replaying over and over like a song he couldn’t stop humming. God, he wanted to be there, with her, even if it meant being part of a threesome.

Alexandre had never thought of himself as someone who would easily give in to temptation or, worse, share the woman he loved. In the past, he could think of himself that even a fling would stir up jealousy in him, or maybe due to pride as a man, if he imagined her in another man’s bed. As far as he understood himself, he was possessive. Domineering, even. But somehow, Hera was an exception.

Or maybe, it was because she had been honest from the start, not just to him, but to everyone. She didn’t pretend. She told them all that she had six boyfriends, said it without shame, and treated each of them with sincerity. She didn’t lead him on or hide the truth. She told him, plainly, and made him understand that if he chose to pursue her, he’d be walking into a shared arrangement.

There were no lies. No cheating. Just clarity. And he had made his choice.

So maybe that was why the thought of sharing her, of being with her, even if someone else was there too, didn’t make him feel angry. Maybe that’s why his mind wandered to the idea of a threesome... or more. Maybe it was strange. Maybe it should have disturbed him.

But deep down, beneath the confusion and the heat, he felt something unexpected: curiosity.

And excitement.

"I... I... we..." Hera stammered, pulling Alexandre out of his thoughts.

But she couldn’t continue. The words caught in her throat, her cheeks flushing deep red. She was too mortified to even form a full sentence.

In her eyes, Alexandre was still a relative stranger, someone who had only just begun showing interest in her. Not someone she’d ever want overhearing the most intimate, vulnerable moments between her and Xavier. The mere idea of it made her stomach twist in horror.

Worse still, the things Xavier had whispered in her ear last night and again that morning echoed in her mind now, sounding so shameless in hindsight. The fact that someone else might have heard any of it made her want to crawl under a rock and never come out.

Then Xavier, like a victor basking in his triumph, grinned and placed a kiss on top of Hera’s head.

"No need to explain," he said warmly. "We’re lovers. And if anyone understands intimacy, it’s Parisians. I’m sure they’ve seen and heard far worse in their lifetime. So, don’t feel embarrassed."

He leaned in closer, his breath brushing her ear, his tone dipping into something far more wicked.

"You were so fucking perfect last night, I wanted to do it again right away. So please... don’t give me that look, or I might lose control again, just like this morning."

Hera’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. She had no idea what "look" Xavier was referring to, but whatever it was, it was clearly having a devastating effect on him.

’Argh! I never knew Xavier could be this shameless,’ Hera thought, burying her face in her hands. Then again, with how much time he’d been spending with Dave lately... maybe shamelessness was contagious after all.

Luckily, Hera’s savior arrived just in time; her best friend, Athena, walked in while still tying her hair into a loose bun. But the moment she stepped into the room, she froze.

Read 𝓁at𝙚st chapters at (f)re𝒆we(b)novel.com Only