Chapter 65: Pathetic animal
She was dressed in the hotel’s crisp staff uniform. She had long dark hair pulled back in a clip, a delicate frame, and as she looked up, startled by his sudden appearance, she lowered her eyes nervously, her cheeks flushing red as she recognized him from the news.
For one terrible second, Kian’s mind had filled the empty air with his wife. He was starting to see her where she wasn’t.
The cleaner flinched, pulling her caddy close to her chest. "I... I’m so sorry, sir!" she stammered, her voice shaking slightly as she looked down at his expensive suit. "Did I disturb you? I was just clearing the service trash—"
Kian stared at her.
She wasn’t Isabella. Her face was completely different, her eyes were a light brown, and she was clearly just a young hotel worker, probably in her early twenties.
But she had that same habit, that gentle, timid way of lowering her head, avoiding direct eye contact, her cheeks blooming pink under his gaze.
’When did Isabella stop looking at me like that?’ Kian thought, a cold, bitter realization washing over him. ’When did she stop blushing when I entered the room? When did she stop wanting me?’
The thought twisted like a knife in his gut. A dark, twisted desperation took root deep in his chest, warping his mind.
’I’ll make her want me again,’ he told himself, his eyes darkening as he stared at the flustered cleaner. ’I’ll bring her back and she’ll look at me like she used to.
The young cleaner, seeing the handsome, tall, incredibly wealthy man staring at her with such intense, dark eyes, felt her heart flutter. She blushed harder, biting her lip.
"Sir? Is everything okay?"
Kian stepped forward, closing the distance between them until he was standing right in front of her. He reached out, his long fingers gently catching her chin, lifting her face up just like he used to do with Isabella.
"You’re very beautiful," Kian murmured, his voice turning low, smooth, and full of fake warmth. "What’s your name?"
The girl gasped softly, her cheeks turning bright red as she stared up at his sharp, handsome features. "L-Lily, sir..."
"Lily," Kian lied smoothly, offering her a charming, gentle smile that didn’t reach his cold eyes. "You shouldn’t be working so hard at this hour, Lily."
...
Kian grabbed Lily’s wrist, pulled her back into the dark, private service bathroom down the hall, and locked the heavy door behind them.
He didn’t waste a second. He turned her around, shoving her roughly against the marble counter of the sink.
"Sir—" Lily gasped, her voice muffled as Kian pressed his large body against her back, his heavy hands gripping her hips with brutal force.
He didn’t care about her name. He didn’t care about her face.
He hitched her uniform skirt up over her waist, pulling down her undergarments with rough, impatient fingers. He unbuckled his belt, his breathing coming fast and harsh in the small room.
He shoved himself inside her from behind, a sharp, hard thrust that made the girl cry out against the marble counter.
"Ah! Sir—it’s too rough!" Lily gasped, her hands scrambling for purchase against the slick stone.
Kian didn’t listen. He reached out, his hand tangling tightly into her dark hair, pulling her head back as he began to drive his hips forward in a fast, relentless rhythm.
The sound of skin hitting skin echoed loudly in the small bathroom, her body bouncing hard against the counter with every heavy, aggressive stroke.
He closed his eyes tight, shutting out the sight of the hotel bathroom.
In his mind, it wasn’t a hotel cleaner under his hands. It was Isabella. It was his wife, submitting to him, trapped under his weight, belonging to him completely.
He pulled her hair harder, driving himself deep into the tight warmth of her body, his chest heaving as he lost himself in the dark, twisted illusion.
"Isabella..." he slammed his hips forward again and again, his dick sliding in and out hard, fast, and unyielding, taking out all his frustration, his rage, and his desperate possessiveness on the girl bent before him.
Lily moaned, half from pain, half from the sheer overwhelming pleasure of the powerful man taking her so brutally, her fingers digging into the counter as her body shook from the force of his thrusts.
Kian kept going until the edge of his climax hit him like a freight train. Just before he finished, he grabbed her by the hips and pulled out roughly, spilling his warm release over her lower back and the edge of the marble sink.
He stood there for a long moment, chest heaving, his dark shirt clinging to his sweaty skin as he slowly caught his breath.
The illusion shattered instantly.
The girl collapsed forward against the sink, whimpering softly as she reached down to pull her clothes back into place.
Kian looked down at her, at the mess on her back, at her messy hair, at her cheap uniform and a wave of intense, sickening disgust washed over his chest.
He pulled his pants up, buckling his belt with quiet, practiced efficiency.
Lily turned around slowly, her face flushed, her eyes wide as she looked up at him, a faint, hopeful smile touching her lips. "Um... sir? Are you... will I see you again?"
Kian didn’t even look her in the eye.
He reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a gold-embossed business card along with a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills from his wallet, and tossed them callously onto the marble counter beside her.
Without saying a single word, Kian unlocked the door and stepped out into the hallway.
As he walked down the quiet, carpeted corridor toward the elevator, he looked down at his trembling hands.
The alcohol in his system felt sour now, his throat tight with a deep, pathetic shame. He had just fucked a random stranger in a hotel bathroom like a desperate animal, all to chase the ghost of a woman who had left him behind.
He pressed the elevator button, leaning his forehead against the cool metallic door as he waited.
He felt utterly pathetic. But as the elevator doors slid open, his jaw set into a hard, rigid line.
It doesn’t matter, Kian thought, his eyes turning cold and dark in the dim light. I’m bringing her back.