2. Stay with me

MONIQUE

He was tall, his dark hair slightly tousled, and his gray eyes held an intensity that was both unnerving and captivating. It was also quite obvious that he was wealthy, seeing how he was dressed and his aura alone. But his appearance and potential wealth weren't my concerns right now. My priority was figuring out if I was putting myself in danger by following him.

I spoke up, my voice laced with skepticism. "Who are you? Why are you helping me?" I asked.

The man sighed, his gaze meeting mine. "My name is Gavin Jones," he replied, his voice steady. He reached into his wallet and retrieved a card, holding it out to me. "Here," he says. "Take a look. I mean you no harm."

I took the card from him, my eyes scanning the details. It confirmed his name as Gavin Romano, but it doesn't provide me with any further explanation. My mind raced, contemplating the risks of accepting a ride from him. Yet, considering the circumstances and the fact that he had already helped me, I decided to take a chance.

Reluctantly, I stepped toward the car. Gavin opened the door for me, his gaze steady and reassuring. I climbed inside, my instincts telling me to remain cautious but also acknowledging the possibility that he may genuinely want to assist me.

As the car glides through the night, the silence hangs heavy between us. I could feel Gavin's eyes on me, assessing my state of mind. Finally, I turn to face him, needing answers.

"Why did you help me back there?" I asked.

Gavin's gaze remained fixed on the road ahead, his voice calm as he replied, "It was clear that you needed help, Monique. And in that moment, I felt compelled to offer it. There is no ulterior motive or hidden agenda, so you have nothing to worry about."

“By the way, where do you want to go?” Gavin asked.

"Anywhere but home," I murmured. "I don't want to be alone with my thoughts." I paused before adding, "I could also use a drink."

Gavin's expression softened at my words; there was a hint of understanding in his eyes. He let out a sigh, and with a subtle hand gesture, he signaled his driver to turn the car around.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

There was a strange familiarity in Gavin's demeanor, as if he knew more about me than he should. It was even a surprise that he already knew my name back at the wedding hall, and it nagged at the back of my mind, but I dismissed the thought, convincing myself that it didn't matter.

"I'm taking you somewhere you can get a drink," he replied smoothly, his tone gentle. "You said you wanted one, didn't you?"

I let out a tired laugh, the sound devoid of genuine amusement. "Yes, I suppose I did," I replied.

The need to drown my sorrows seemed almost unbearable, and I found strange comfort in the idea of numbing my pain, at least temporarily.

After what seemed like an eternity, the car came to a halt in front of a magnificent hotel named Sky Hotel. Confusion furrowed my brow as I glanced at Gavin, questioning his choice of destination. "Why have you brought me to a hotel?"

Gavin chuckled lightly, warmth in his eyes. "No, no. It's not what you're thinking," he assured me. "This hotel is mine, and it has a bar where you can get the drink you want. I just want to make sure you're in a safe environment."

As Gavin helped me out of the car, my eyes swept across the grandeur of the hotel's entrance. I took notice of the employees and their respectful bows in Gavin's direction. It becomes apparent that he wasn't lying; he truly does own this place.

With a tired sigh, I followed Gavin into the hotel, and he guided me towards the bar.

The bartender looked up as we approached, his eyes widening in recognition. "Mr. Romano," he said, his voice a blend of respect and familiarity. "What can I get for you today?"

Gavin smiled warmly at the bartender before turning his attention towards me. "What would you like, Monique?" he asked, his voice gentle.

I pondered for a moment, contemplating my options. Finally, I responded softly, "A glass of red wine, please."

As the red liquid swirled around in my glass, I found myself staring at it angrily. The bitterness of the wine seemed to mirror the bitterness that engulfed my soul, and with each sip, a bitter curse would escape my lips, directed at Whitney and Cole, the scums who had betrayed me and ruined my life.

Gavin sat beside me, his own glass held lightly in his hand. He had initially been reluctant to drink, but after some convincing, he decided to join me. I watched as his eyes lingered on me, concern etched on his face.

"They deserve every curse you throw at them," he said softly, his voice tinged with sympathy. "But I'd rather you not let it dictate your actions."

I scoffed, taking another swig of the wine. "Easy for you to say," I grumbled. "You haven't experienced the betrayal or the heartache. So don't tell me how to feel."

We sat in silence for a while, each lost in our own thoughts. The more I drank, the louder my curses became, the venom in my words growing with each passing moment.

But as the bottle emptied, signs of my intoxication began to surface. My words slurred, and my vision blurred. The room seemed to spin as the alcohol consumed me. With a hazy determination, I reached for the empty bottle, my drunken mind craving more.

Gavin's firm grip on my wrist startled me. He gently pried the bottle away, his expression stern. "That's enough, Monique," he said firmly. "You've had too much already."

I pouted; my vision blurred as I tried to focus on his face. "I'm fine," I insisted drunkenly, my voice laced with defiance. "I want another bottle."

But Gavin wouldn't budge. "No, you've had more than enough," he said firmly, his voice brooking no argument.

A wave of fatigue washed over me, overpowering my determination to continue drinking. With a heavy sigh, I relented, realizing that he was right. It was time to call it a night.

I allowed myself to be swept up in Gavin's arms as he noticed my stumbling state. My arm wrapped around his neck, seeking support as he carried me out of the bar.

Awareness flickered in me, despite the haze of intoxication. I felt us move through the corridors until I felt my head collide with what felt like a pillow.

I sat up with a groan, the effects of the alcohol still making me a little hazy. Blinking slowly, I found myself in a comfortable bed, engulfed in warm covers. My eyes were drawn to the figure standing near the door.

Gavin turned, his gaze falling on me. Concerned, he took a step towards the bed. "Are you alright, Monique?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.

I reached out, my hand grasping his arm, before rational thought could intervene. His warmth provided a strange comfort amidst the chaos in me—the chaos of betrayal, heartbreak, and loneliness. Without thinking, I spoke daringly, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Stay with me," I murmured, my vulnerability seeping through my words. "I don't want to be alone."

Gavin's expression flickered with surprise, his concern shifting to a mix of uncertainty and longing. He met my gaze, his eyes searching for something I couldn't quite decipher. And in that single moment, my instinct took over. I pulled him down, meeting him halfway in a desperate, intoxicated kiss.