Chapter 5 Five

As she finished reading Liam’s hateful message, her hands flew up to cover her mouth, muffling a choked cry. Hot tears blurred her vision, pooling and falling onto the illuminated screen. The physical ache of her curse was instantly overshadowed by a tidal wave of emotional devastation. The worst discovery was yet to come: she found their engagement video, Alina and Liam celebrating followed by plans for a private wedding. They had already paid reporters to announce publicly that Rose was a terrible wife, fabricating the entire narrative.

She scrolled through explicit sex videos, then found a recording of herself, pleading with Liam in a moment of desperate vulnerability, only to hear them mock her.

“I love to see her beg,” Liam’s voice sneered in the recording. “This is just the beginning. She will beg until she takes her own life.”

Alina’s voice followed, sickeningly smug. “I know her too well. If she knew how much of your cock I take daily, she would be so ashamed she wouldn’t dare make a sound.”

The sound of their laughter, cold and calculated, made Rose’s entire body tremble. It had all been a plan, a malicious conspiracy from the very beginning. She felt a profound, crushing emptiness where her heart used to be.

“I trusted you so much, Alina,” Rose whispered to the empty room, her voice hoarse with pain. She dragged a hand across her wet face. “You faked everything. You acted like you cared about me and my marital affairs. You even advised me on getting sex toys, all while you were fucking my husband behind my back. How could you?”

She sat there, frozen on the edge of the sofa, letting the tears track freely down her face. A small, pathetic part of her hoped they would emerge from the room, find her, and at least offer an explanation. But the sounds from the bedroom continued,the loud, unrestrained pleasure that Rose had craved for two years, now being given freely to her betrayer.

After a long time, the clarity of cold rage cut through the sorrow. “He was going to divorce me anyway. The earlier I do it, the better,” she thought, grasping at a shred of control.

Despite the pretense of calm, the betrayal burned. The absence of love, the hatred, and the elaborate deceit from her closest friend were the worst pain she had ever known. “I wasted two good years in a prison for nothing, and it was all orchestrated by you, my own best friend. I will make you regret this, Liam. And I will make you the happiest you have ever been, Alina.” The intent behind the second sentence was pure poison.

With newfound resolve, she found a pen. She signed the divorce papers that Liam had already prepared and then ruthlessly transferred every single piece of evidence from Alina’s phone to her own, all the videos, the letters, the signed documents, and the damning emails sent to the reporter.

As she strode out of the hotel suite and down to the lobby, she pulled out her phone and dialed Jasmine’s contact.

“Jess, where are you at?” Rose demanded, her voice tight.

Jasmine’s voice was full of surprise. “Whoa, this is a first. You calling for a night out?”

“Jokes aside, what club are you at?” Rose insisted, already heading for the exit.

“I’m at Club 9, it’s a stone’s throw away from where you are.”

“Alright, I will be there.”

“Dress sexy before you come, and don’t come with your wedding ring,” Jasmine advised.

“I flung it as I signed the divorce papers,” Rose stated, the words satisfyingly final.

“Go, girl, that's the vibe! Congratulations on getting your life back together, my love!” Jasmine cheered.

Rose got into her car, drove home quickly, and changed. She needed to feel something other than suffocating pain. She pulled on a tight leather skirt, forgoing both panties and a bra, topped it with a low-cut backless shirt, tied her hair into a careless bun, and finished the look with large bangle earrings. She looked daring, reckless, and completely unbound.

When she walked into the pulsating noise of the club, she found Jasmine sitting at a reserved booth, surrounded by a crowd of attentive men.

Jasmine’s eyes lit up as she saw Rose approach. “I hope you are here to clear the cobwebs down there. You need to get fucked, girl,” she stated loudly.

Rose felt a blush creep up her neck, instantly grabbing the glass of alcohol Jasmine was holding and taking a long sip. “I should have done this a long time ago,” she murmured, the liquor burning a path down her throat.

“I told you, but no,” Jasmine scolded playfully. “You wanted to be the good wife. Now see what that got you into.”

Rose set the glass down, her smile fading. Her voice cracked slightly as she admitted the truth. “I am not okay, Jess. Please don’t make it worse for me. What I just saw... it broke me. I never imagined that for real.”

Jasmine’s expression softened instantly. She reached across the table and squeezed Rose’s hand. “I’m so sorry about that, Rosie. But don’t worry, that’s exactly why you are here with me. So don’t be a party pooper. Pick whatever drink you want, it’s all on me.”

“I don't want to get too drunk, Jasmine. Just a little bit,” Rose insisted.

“Fine,” Jasmine sighed, crossing her leg. She waved at a passing waiter. “Give her something. The same drink you gave to me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the waiter replied, walking away.

After a few minutes of conversation, Jasmine leaned forward, her eyes twinkling. “Have you seen the way that guy looks at you?”

Rose frowned, already feeling the liquor loosening her tension. “Who?”

Jasmine nodded subtly across the crowded floor. “Him. Williams. He's the owner of the hotel you just came from and this club.”

Rose followed the direction of her gaze, and her breath hitched. Her eyes locked with Williams’s. He was standing near a velvet rope, his presence dominating the space. A powerful, unsettling surge went through Rose. Her sexual heat, though often suppressed, flared up violently, instantly responding to his gaze. Why am I still feeling this way for him? Who is he? Why is my heat responding to him so strongly? The question pulsed in her mind.

Williams held her gaze, a slow, possessive smile curving his lips. He lifted his glass slightly, then gave her a sharp wink before turning and walking into a private VIP room, an action that felt like a silent, undeniable invitation.

“Jess, he looks exactly like the guy I ruined his car not quite long ago,” Rose whispered, struggling to reconcile the coincidence. “What type of fate is this? Anyway, Jasmine, how did you know about Alina and Liam?” she tried to redirect the conversation.

“Story for another day, Rosie. We are not here for that, we are here for celebration,” Jasmine cut in firmly. “So, now let me dare you a favor for telling you about the hotel.”

“Common, Jasmine, this again?” Rose groaned, already knowing what her friend was capable of.

“Do not come on me,” Jasmine retorted. “Tonight is on me, rich girl, and I will only answer your questions if you do as I say.”

Rose threw her head back in frustration. “Arrrgghhh! Fine. What’s the dare?”

Jasmine pointed across the club toward the door Williams had just entered. “You see that suite?”

“Yes, what about it?”

Jasmine’s eyes were sparkling with mischief. “Go in there and mak

e out with the first man you meet there.”