Sweet Downfall (22 page)

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Authors: Eve Montelibano

BOOK: Sweet Downfall
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In his ravaged soul, the questions came back again, questions he hated, questions he didn’t ever want to ask again, but they were there, chanting, screaming inside of him all over again.

God, Angie, why?! Why did you do it?! Why did you betray me? Why did you leave me?!

He wanted answers. After eight long years, he wanted to hear them from her own lips.

When Angie woke up, she was alone in the room.

Her immediate feelings were shame and mortification, then guilt and self-castigation.

But she curtailed the old habit. She was in this situation on her own volition. She must own up to it. Yes, Jaq had everything to do with her weakness but it was her body. She made her choice. No, she won’t do the proverbial walk of shame this time and let Jaq Montero have the last laugh again.

The new Angie will get up and face her lover, make him feel that it had been a great privilege for him to have sex with her and it was his duty to pleasure her. The new Angie will not feel that having great sex was something a woman should deprive herself of or feel guilty and ashamed about. Acknowledging that she loved sex and enjoyed the act immensely with a man she was attracted to was a normal attitude of a true independent, modern woman. Angie the pushover doormat had retired. For good!

She glanced around, appreciating her surroundings for the first time. Jaq, as always, had great taste in architecture. The room was contemporary Zen in design, polished, simple and visually serene. The furnishings were tastefully done in wood, stone, sculpted glass and expensive leather. Masculine, sedate, solid and yet very warm. Just like Jaq.

She went to the bathroom. It was spacious and attached to a walk-in closet, complete with all the modern amenities, including a spa shower.

She took a warm bath. She wondered where Jaq was?

Jaq had always been an open parenthesis in her life, an unfinished business. One thing was for sure, unfinished business was no longer her forte. Independent women took care of business, and they always made sure they landed on top.

The agenda of the day was: Deal with her ex and then deal with her fiancé. In that order.

With a new boost of resolute determination, she padded back to the bedroom with towels wrapped on her hair and body.

Jaq was back.

He was lounging on the sofa, one leg resting on the other. His eyes picked up heat when he saw her and they traveled the length of her body in masculine appreciation.

She wanted to turn around and look for her clothes, but the new Angie won’t do that, she reminded herself.

“Oh, you’re back,” she said casually.

“Just went out to check the office. Did you miss me?” His voice was smooth and lazy.

The desire to go to him and sit on his lap was so strong but she gave him a seductive smile instead. “Not for some time, I think. I’ve had enough of you for now. Have you seen my clothes?”

His eyes widened a fraction.

Hiding her smile, she turned around and went looking for her dress. She found it hanging in a closet. Her bra and panties were there, too. She put her bra back on but ditched her soiled panties. She was slipping into her dress when Jaq entered the walk-in closet. She fought the urge to cover herself from his dark, sensual gaze.

“Angie…” he said in a tentative tone.

“Oh, darling, you’re not going to be dramatic about this, are you?”

His brows drew together.

Careful not to show how self-conscious she was, she turned around. “Zip me, up,” she said in a commanding tone.

He didn’t move.

“Jaq, zip me up.”

He zipped up her dress slowly.

She gave him a sweet sideways smile. “Thanks.”

Removing the towel from her hair, she walked back to the bedroom.

He was right behind her. “Angie…”

“Hmm?” She ran her fingers through her wet hair, not bothering to fix it with a comb. Her stylist had given her a cut that was great even when wet. “What, Jaq?”

His mouthed opened to speak but he closed it.

She smiled again. “Look, there’s no need to discuss anything. It happened. Heat of the moment. I’m no longer underage so you don’t have to feel guilty about the whole thing,” she teased.

His jaw clenched. “I am not feeling guilty. I…” his voice trailed off.

“So, chill out. It was great sex.” How casually she’d said it. She felt really proud of herself.

She put her high heels back on.

“Great...sex?!” he spluttered.

“Yes. Wasn’t it great for you?”

Again, he was at a loss for words.

She picked up her bag from the sofa and slung it on her shoulder. “I gotta go.” With head held high, she walked to the door.

He rushed to open it for her.

His office was dimly lit now. All the employees had gone for the day. She’d spent close to six hours with Jaq in that private room, forgetting her own business engagements while his business went on outside!

She wondered if they’d be in the rags again tomorrow. Her composure started to crack at the mere thought. She had to get out of there fast. She didn’t want to ruin her New Angie act in front of him.

When they reached the main entrance of his office, Jaq punched the digital security locks to open the glass doors. He faced her again and finally spoke.

“Let’s go have some dinner.”

She flipped her long hair away casually and gave him her most dazzling smile. “Oh thanks, but I have a date with my fiancé tonight. Bye, Jaq. I had a great time. See ya when I see ya.” It was a lie. One she needed to say.

She had the satisfaction of seeing total shock register on his face before she turned and opened the glass door and sashayed away confidently.

She paused a few meters away, turned around and blew him a kiss.

Chapter Eight

JAQ PAUSED TO ADMIRE
the stunning facade of The Great One, a 55-story hotel, casino and business center rolled into one. The Ancient grandeur of Acropolis fused perfectly with the cutting-edge engineering of extreme Modernism. High- octane architecture if he ever saw one. It was a gleaming tower of jewel, easily outshining every building around it in its sheer magnificence. Alexis’ love for anything Greek was finally realized through visionary and renowned architect Veldon Simpson, the mega-brill architect of The Luxor.

He was let into the gigantic sensor glass doors by bare-chested, ripped warriors who looked like they just stepped out of a 300 set, Spartans in full battle gear. He noticed metal discreetly attached to their sides and he realized they were real warriors. Security men. Well, they were necessary. X said the president would be here tonight.

There were not enough words to describe the magnificence of the lobby. Statues of Greek gods and goddesses everywhere, intricate designs adorning the soaring ceilings and walls, murals, gold plating, stylized chandeliers dropping like stalagmites of Kryptonite glass from the sky.

The throng of tourists of all races moving around the expansive and cavernous lobby with flutes of champagne in their hands looked like they were really enjoying themselves. X was surely bringing the vibe of Vegas into the country.

Fuck, this place was pure dope.

He caught sight of several females clad in flowing, thin fabrics, resembling those Greek goddesses. One of them approached him.

“Hello, welcome to the Great One! Would you like some champagne?”

He blinked and realized the goddess was actually a hotel staff. Geishas on the loose! Was X serious?! This was straight out of Lothario! “I’m attending the gala at the summit. Would you direct me to the elevator, please?”

The woman smiled. “This way, sir.”

He thanked the attendant and boarded one of the zoom elevators. In under a minute, he alighted into the well-lit atrium at the pinnacle of the skyscraper.

The party was already underway. Huge crowd.

Just like the hotel’s lobby, the atrium was decked with Greek extravagance as only fitting for the guest list. All of Manila’s who’s who were probably here tonight.

He scanned the mélange of guests leisurely rubbing elbows under the glass dome of the vast atrium– a mixture of big time business, big time politics and the much needed ice-breaker, big time celebrity. X knew his money-generating cocktail, alright.

He came in as inconspicuously as he could, but a number of his friends spotted him right away, very surprised to see him there. He just waved at them, not really joining any group yet.

Alexis saw him. They exchanged a brotherly hug.

“You actually showed up.”

“Told you I would.”

“Don’t piss on my shit,” Alexis warned him.

He grinned. “When did I ever? My first time to attend your shit. Impressive shit, by the way. Congratulations, bro. Fucking dope, this,” he said looking up at the soaring dome above them.

Alexis grunted and picked up a drink from the tray of a roving goddess and gave it to him.

He accepted it and took a sip. “Did you bring all the geishas here tonight?” he asked and winked at the waitress as she moved on to the other guests.

“Find out for yourself. You might get lucky.”

“Sonuvabitch. Seriously?”

Alexis just chuckled.

Rydon suddenly popped up from the crowd. “Bro, are you and Gwenna still dating?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I saw her at a party last night.”

Well, she hoped Gwenna had been finding entertainment elsewhere because she wasn’t getting it from him. The actress had taken the local showbiz by storm and had been guesting in several TV shows the past weeks which he allowed as long as it did not conflict with her shooting schedules.

“Nope. We really are not…” he shrugged.

Rydon looked pleased. “I like her. Do you mind?”

“No, not at all.”

“Great. Later, brothas!” Rydon disappeared.

Alexis smirked.

“What? I wasn’t seriously dating her.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

His eyes scanned the crowd again.

“She’s at your right, near the buffet table, wearing red, talking to Darriene,” Alexis supplied.

His eyes zeroed in on her. As expected, much as he hated it, his pulse accelerated like a sports car’s speedometer at the sight of Angie shrink-wrapped in a crimson gown that delineated every inch of her killer curves in a really classy way.

“Bro, old clothes in the closet, remember?”

“Why don’t you try wearing ‘em again, X? They might still fit like brand new,” he said thoughtfully, thinking how exactly he’d wear Angie next.

Alexis gave a short laugh. “Nah. Got enough clothes more than I can wear. They even keep coming for free. Why wear one until it wears out?”

He declined to comment further. In his case, Alexis’ maxim about old clothes and women would never apply. Angie always felt brand new to him. The glaring truth left a bitter taste in his mouth but it wasn’t enough to discourage his cock from seeking her heat like an infrared missile.

Alexis clapped him in the shoulder. “The president just arrived, I think. I need to play the good host or my father would raise Hiroshima and Nagasaki on my ass for not making his good friend feel welcome on enemy lair.”

“Okay.” Politics, not his thing, even if his own old man was at the center of it.

Alexis looked back. “Hey Jaq, join us later, okay? The guys are all here.”

“Yeah. Later, bro.”

But he didn’t come here to socialize.

Angie could feel a force pulling at her,
an instinctive awareness. She was afraid to look around and find the source of that magnetic energy. She was almost sure what it was.

Sure enough, suddenly, he was there, a few meters in front of her, appearing out of a cluster of designer clad people. The predatory glint in his eyes made her skin break out in goose bumps. Everything inside of her jumped in red line alert, sensing danger…and excitement.

There were women who dressed to tease. Jaq was the male counterpart. Unapologetically so.

He was simply devastating in his all-black ensemble, disregarding the black tie rule of the gala. Jaq knew his own style. His black leather pants rode low on his hips, molding his sexy butt and long legs to a sexiness good enough for a billboard. The laces that secured the crotch of his pants could invoke all kinds of titillating carnal thoughts. He finished the rock star look with black boots that gave extra length to his already endless legs. He was just too sexy for her comfort.

God, she needed to hate him to fight him.

He walked towards her with that unique swagger of his, like he didn’t give a damn.

“Hello, ladies,” he drawled lazily.

Darry turned around. “Jaq Montero!” she practically squealed like a starstruck fan.

“Darriene Salvador,” he said smoothly, a sexy smile on his lips.

Angie had to hide her clenched fists behind her back as Jaq and Darry kissed each other’s cheeks in more than the customary greeting.

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