Blackmailing Aria [Book 1 of the Stavros Series]

3

Thirty minutes later, I emerge from the bathroom, dressed in the clothes I was wearing before, to find the bedroom empty and my suitcase gone, as well as Sydneys. I have no choice, but to leave the room. I take a deep breath, trying to inhale as much air as I can, before I head for the door.
I find him by the front door, talking away on a cell phone. I don't think he notices I'm at the foot of the steps, until he tucks his phone in his pocket. "Your friends have just gotten back. They're down stairs."
I have no words for him, no excuses. I just want to leave, so I shuffle my feet against the marble floor.
A billionaire, I laugh to myself. How could I be so lucky and unlucky at the same time?
My hand wraps around the handle of my suitcase, ready to grab it and make the walk of shame past him. But then, he does the unexpected.
His hand lands on my hip, making me feel that familiar feeling.
I never felt electricity with him like others did. I felt fire, absolute heat that boiled within me until I just had to lean into him to get more, to feel more. I was addicted to him. Absolutely addicted.
I freeze, basking in his touch. I always told myself I hated him, but here I am. Wanting more. Always wanting more.
"You broke my heart."
I don't know who says those words. Was it him? Was it me? My mind is too foggy to even comprehend what's going on.
I just love the feeling of his hands on me, of his breath on my neck, and his scent under my nose.
I want to cry. I want to yell. I want to hit him. I want to tell him exactly what he did to me. But I can't.
I pull away, pushing him at the same time. Once there's space between us I take a deep breath. I close and open my eyes repeatedly, trying to get find out if this is a nightmare or not.
He's still there when I turn around, standing before me. His eyes glued to me, bright and vulnerable, open like a window.
We spent four years apart, but only three weeks together. Within those three weeks we formed a connection that we couldn't deny. Now, after all this time that connection still stands, frayed and bruised, but still alive.
The silence between us lasts for a minute, before someone knocks on the door and gets my heart racing, like I have something to hide.
Xander, or Alexander, whatever, heads for the door. He opens it quickly, nearly making the guy behind it jump in fright. He's a short dark man, wearing a black suit and a name tag.
"Mr. Stavros," he says, a stutter in his words. "Excuse me."
"What is it?"
"One of the men refuses to leave until his girlfriend comes down to the lobby."
Xander looks over his shoulder at me, his eyes travel from my toes to the top of my hair. "Her?" he asks the concierge, while keeping his eyes on me.
"I believe so."
"Girlfriend?" It takes a second to think about it before knowing that they're talking about Holden. I laugh at the thought, but Xander does not.
He turns back to the man, his body rigid and knuckles tight. "Call the police for breaking and entering. I want them all sent to jail, especially him."
"What?'' I scream, looking at him like he has half a brain. Too quickly, he shuts the door on the man, leaving no room for argument.
Xander turns back to me, his face hardened back into stone. "It's late, you can stay here tonight."
He walks past me, grabbing my suitcase off the ground, leaving Sydney's.
"Like hell I am!" I shout, once my mind catches up to everything that just happened.
Xander stops walking and slowly turns around. "Every room in this hotel is booked, and I assume you don't have money to go somewhere else for the night. And there's no way I'm going to pay another hotel. So you're staying here," he says condescendingly. He then continues his walk towards the stairs, my suitcase in hand.
"But," I begin to argue, chasing after him.
"It's either here or a crummy motel that you'll probably get robbed at."
He has a good point. It's already getting dark, and I don't have enough money to pay for a comfortable hotel in one of the most expensive cities in the world.
I run after him, trying to keep up with his long legs. "Xander, wait."
I find him in the bedroom across the hall from the one I was in before. He lays my suitcase on the bed, next to another that I recognize as being Holden's.
"Please call off the police."
He briefly glances at me, raising an eyebrow in question before chuckling. "Why should I?"
"Why are you?" I retort. "The man at the front desk gave us a key to the room, as well as the code. We didn't break in, we were given access. It's that man's fault!"
Xander sits on the bed, then lazily pushes Holden's suitcase off the bed. He sighs in bliss as he lays in it's spot. I would yell at him, hit him, argue with him some more, but my eyes focus on the condom packets that fell from Holden's suitcase with the fall.
They look unrecognizable to me, because they're not the type we use. We've always used the same brand, the same style, but these . . . they're completely different.
The answer is clear to me, before I can even ask my question. They're not for us, or me, they're for someone else.
A pang of hurt resonates in my body, until it settles in my stomach, making me feel sick. I loved him, he loved me. But I guess this is what happens when you break up, you have to move on.
Two hands on my shoulders bring me back to the ground. I look up to see Xander's blurry face, realizing that I'm crying.
I step out of his touch and wipe the tears from my face. Why am I even crying? Why do I care? "Are you okay?" I turn my back to Xander, not wanting him to see me like this. He's the last person that I want to see this.
"Look, I'll call the front desk and tell them to not bother with the police," Xander offers with a soft voice. "Although I still don't want them staying in my hotel."
The idea of being far away from them all actually makes me feel a little better. I can't stand to be around Holden or Daisy right now, so I nod my head.
Xander grabs Holden's suitcase from the ground, not noticing the condoms that had fallen. He leaves the room, letting me stare blankly at the gold wrappers.
I can't stand to look at them, or have them near me, so I grab the two that had fallen. I'm about to drop them in the trash when I notice that they aren't normal condoms. They're non-latex. I've seen these condoms once before, in Sydney's nightstand. She's allergic to latex as like many girls, so these are the only condoms she can use.
I can't help but be confused. Why would he specifically buy non-latex?
I hear my phone ringing in the front pocket of my suitcase where I had tucked it. I drop the packages to go fish it out. Holden's number appears on the screen, waiting for me to answer it.
The sick feeling in my stomach is still present when I say hello into the phone.
"Thank god!" he yells, sounding relieved. "What's going on? When are you coming down stairs? They called the cops, but I'm not leaving without you."
"It's fine Holden. I talked to the owner, he's going to call off the police. You'll be fine."
"Why does it sound like you aren't included in this?"
How am I supposed to tell him about Xander? I lied to Holden during our entire relationship about him, I can't tell him now.
But we aren't dating anymore . . . he moved on. I should too. There's no point in keeping it a secret anymore.
"I know him . . . Mr. Stavros. I met him four years ago when I came to New York during winter break. He's . . . an old friend of mine." I clench my eyes and curse myself. Why am I afraid to tell him?
"Old friend?" From his tone of voice, I know he's suspicious. Maybe even a little jealous.
"Yeah," I pause, taking a deep breath. Four years I kept this secret, but I don't have to tell him everything that happened. "He's the guy who took my virginity."
The other end is silent, barren of any noise at all. Not even his breathing.
"Holden?"
"I've been sleeping with Sydney for the past year," he says, and then hangs up.