Chereads / Confessions of a Gold Digger / Chapter 5 - Chapter Three

Chapter 5 - Chapter Three

I heavily fell flat on the Boca do Lobo daybed. Lazily unclutching my hand and letting go of my ruined handbag causing its contents to spill onto the Persian carpet.

In normal instances, I would have gently placed it onto my designated bag closet then proceed to strip not letting any non-existent outside grime smear onto my expensive furniture.

But somehow this time I don't feel like doing so. I don't feel like moving.

I let out a troubled sigh and just stared blankly onto the ceiling. It had been painted with clouds and angels with cherub faces like a renaissance painting.

This view always gave me comfort. It took me back to the time when I was being reprimanded by my foster mother for laying on the cold dirty marbled floor of the library's reading hall just to stare at the painted ceilings for hours.

I was preoccupied with my thoughts too much that I didn't hear Ian arriving home.

He must have known that something was wrong for he contemplated on even greeting me.

I tore my vision off the ceiling and glanced at him. I urged a smile and patted the spot beside me.

He taking off his coat and shoes, settled beside me, and kissed my forehead. I gave him a small smile, "How's the club meeting?" I asked him as I rolled to my side facing his resting body.

"Better than yours so I've heard", he gave me a pitted look. I stared at him confused, " How did you know I had a bad day?".

He touches the side of my face and glided his fingers on my cheek, "Siobhan texted me about the dilemma that happened in the coffee shop".

I gazed at him suspiciously, " She told you?" He raised himself into a sitting position placing his elbows on his thighs.

I sat up also whilst my body was facing him. "She did..." He started off, "She told me you had your bag ruined at a coffee shop".

My eyebrows furrowed as I stood up and took my bag onto the table. . " I'll just call Hermes to see if I could get a repair".I stare at the dark stain on the whole side of the bag.

I don't even know if Hermes can fix this. If this bag didn't hold a sentimental value, I would have rather bought another one instead, it would've been cheaper.

He stood up and said, "If there was a solution in the first place then you shouldn't have gone ballistic in the cafe". His knuckles were turning white as he clenched his fist.

At this point, I turned from irritated to angry. I faced him with gnawing teeth and asked, " What did you just say?".

He was also getting pissed off, with his history of possessing a short temper it wasn't a surprise that he was also reciprocating my hostility. Ian was never the one who had the patience to have a calm argument.

"I have been getting calls from tabloids that they have pictures of you turning red and splashing some drink on a waitress!" his voice was beginning to get louder and louder with every word. "I had to pay them all just to protect you yet again from tarnishing your name!", he said having a full blowout.

I wanted to defend myself like I would've done normally, but somehow I just felt my eyes getting moist. Urging myself not to let my tears gush down my eyes, his expression softened.

His hand attempted to reach out but I turned my back and went straight to the guest room.

The pristine white halls decorated with affluent furniture and paintings blurred on my vision as I reached the door.

I locked the door behind me and stripped my clothes. I went for the enormous bathtub and ran myself a hot calming bath. Turning on the heater to a suitable temperature, making the water maintain its warmth.

I was practically heaving as I settled on the tub.

I heated water lulled me to drift off with my last thoughts hovering from Ian to the bag and then back to the attractive waiter.

---

I didn't realize that I fell asleep when I felt a light tap on my shoulders. It was one of the maids that Ian hired when he realized I don't do chores.

She had a timid posture, " Forgive me for waking you up madame but sir Ian has asked me to fetch you for din--", I held my hand up to stop her.

"Tell him I won't be joining him, don't disturb me till morning, and have all of my meals sent here," I said as I gestured for a robe. She quickly got a generic one from the cupboard, it was plain and fluffy but not as fluffy as the one in my bathroom.

She hands me the robe and left immediately. I wrapped it around my body and started myself into the mirror.

I internally scolded myself for crying, not only that Ian witnessed it but I also earned myself puffy eyes inciting a flaw in my facial expressions.

As I was exiting the bathroom there was a light knock on the door, " Sweetheart, come to dinner with me", Ian's voice boomed at the other side of the door.

I ignore him and lay on the cold mattress with nothing but a blanket to cover my naked body.

I glanced at the electric clock by the bed and saw it is already 10:47 p.m., "I'm sorry, can you at least come back to our room". As I shut my eyes I hear keys clattering and a door unlocking, knowing full well that it was my door I pretended to be asleep.

From the sound, I could imagine him getting to the farther side where I always sleep. I could feel his hot minted breath on my neck as he squatted to level his head on my sleeping position. I felt his cold hands moving damp hair off of my face.

I felt him place a quick kiss on my forehead. With a shuffle, I hear steps slowly moving away and a door opening and closing.

As soon as he left I've let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in. I've let my body gave in to the soft mattress.

With it being already late and my whole body was exhausted since last night's party, now a problematic day, my mind drifted to sleep.

---

It had been the 6th time that I have checked my face on the driver's mirror. And It had been more than half an hour since I've been waiting in the parking lot.

I trumped my fingers on the stirring wheel as I'm waiting for a certain waiter to come out the back.

After a week of holing in the guest room, I finally went out. And without a thought I found myself driving through the suburbs of Manhattan to a small coffee shop.

My phone dinged alerting me to a text message. This was the 4th time in the last 10 minutes. It took every ounce of me not to look at it knowing it's just Ian tiring to fix our fight.

That poor thing had been knocking every night for me to let him in, and even though I refused he would just come back when he thinks that I've fallen asleep and use the key that he has.

It was already 9:57 pm and it says on the sign up front that they close at 9 p.m.

Just as I gave up and start the car, people started to burst through the back door. Amongst those people, which are probably his co-workers, was a tall and gorgeous man who was zipping up his jacket.

He was talking to a girl, probably not the woman who I picked a fight at since this one had a pixie cut and bold dangling earnings.

She wasn't petite this time since she almost went up to his height with only an inch or two to reach.

He waved to his colleagues goodbye and they all went in different directions.

Thankfully, I parked at the very edge of the parking lot, since I have contemplated whether I should come here or not.

Right next to me was a motorcycle rack, with it had a sole motorcycle. And judging by the path he's taking, it was his bike.

I raced myself to get out of the car, not wanting to waste an hour's worth of wait. His steps faltered with the sound of my car opening and closing. With his hands tucked into his jacket, he then turns to me both confused and hostile, " What are you doing here?" he said in an uninterested tone.

I bit back my supposed snarky comment, hardly even looking at him I answered " I wanted to properly apologize".

He looks down and shakes his head, "You're not supposed to be the one apologizing, from what I heard it was a really expensive bag". I nodded, " Yeah $12000 to be exact" I mumbled with fidgeting my fingers.

He cackled at me making me glare at him. Here I thought he was really angry at me but look at him laughing at me and my ruined handbag.

From a distressed face to an irritated one the muscles on my face started to move on their own to a giggle, then a full-on laugh.

Seeing him laughing with a relaxed exterior and a carefree spirit made my soul feel at ease.

"Did you literally wait for me here?" He asked as the laughter died down, I bobbed my head. "I was hoping to talk to you" I explained as his grin grew to a smile.

He stepped closer to me making me instinctively step back, he raised both of his hands up, "Well if you wanna talk, can we go somewhere?" he suggested as he motioned to his bike.

With fear crawling at the back of my neck, I shook my head so hard, "No! I don't wanna ride that death trap of a ride!" I exclaimed.

His brow raised, "Don't hate the ride babe" he muttered defensively making my cheeks tinged with pink at his choice of endearment.

I threw my keys at him, to which thankfully he caught, "Come on, take me somewhere in my car" I winked at him in hopes of initiating the same effect he had on me.

He looked at my McLaren and turned his gaze back to me, "Are you sure you want that?" he asked. "Maybe you'll splash gas at me when I scratch your car" he joked, earning a slap at his biceps from me.

He jests on flinching. As I walked to the passenger side I notice him following me. I reached the side and turned to ask him but he moved aside to open the door on the passenger for me.

It was an adorable gesture that didn't fail to make my heart race. I mumbled him a thank you and stepped inside. He securely closed the door and continued to walk to the driver's side.

As he went in he stopped and gape at the car's interior. I smiled at his reaction causing him to snap out. He rubbed the back of his head like a flirtatious teenager and started the car.

He gripped the wheel and I put my hand in his chest. He glanced at me, "Are you sure you can drive?" I asked him.

He smirked at me, "Babe if I can drive that 'deathtrap', I can drive a car" he retorted with an air quote on the word that I used on his motorcycle.

"Buckle up lady" he asserted as he buckled on his seatbelt. I did as he told and buckled my own but just as the secure latch locked, he bolted the car out of the parking lot, making me grip on the side of the car with apprehension.

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Sincerely,

Atticux