LEILA
Despite the overly kitschy decor of the hotel room, my first time wasn't as horrific as some make it out to be. Sure, it hurt a little that first night and felt awkward, but I found pleasure in it; he knew how to handle me. I wasn't aware that an orgasm could be so liberating. When he suggested we take a shower together afterward, I declined. I value my personal space, and he seems to want to encroach on it constantly – that won't be happening. My legs felt a bit weak in the shower, but all in all, for a first experience, it wasn't bad. As I stepped out, he went in, casually strolling past me in the nude. I’ll admit, he's rather well-endowed – perhaps excessively so. As I was drifting off to sleep, he wrapped his arms around me; tension seized me, yet he wouldn’t let go, softly stroking my hair until I finally shut my eyes, exhausted and in need of rest.
When I awoke the next morning, his arms were still around me. I carefully disentangled myself and ordered breakfast – I was famished, especially since at boarding school for the past two years, my diet had been confined to oats and bread. As he woke up and headed into the shower, he found me on the balcony eating. He's not much for breakfast, always too busy. He outlined our itinerary for the day then hinted that we had a couple of hours to spare, suggesting that I fulfil my marital duties. Initially, I intended to refuse, but the memory of last night's pleasure swayed me and I consented – and enjoyed it again. He tried to join me in the shower once more, but again I refused.
Once ready, he took my hand, and we left the hotel for the airport, boarding his private jet, seated opposite each other.
“What will I do in Vegas while you work?” I asked.
“You could gamble with my money in Vegas," Alek replied. "I might join you some evenings, and we could win big. There are plenty of parties after work; we could have some fun."
"I'll take the gamble and triple whatever you give me," I retorted confidently.
"I hope so," Alek said with a smirk.
In Vegas, I did more than just gamble – I won a lot more. Alek was astounded. What I couldn't fathom was that this man never tires. Initially our nights were a one or two-time affair, but now after almost two weeks of marriage, he won't let me sleep until well into the early hours. He's addicted to sex. I've warned him that once we reach New York, he'll have to restrain himself somewhat. I have a vendetta to execute, and he's becoming a distraction. He assures me he'll be swamped with work in New York and therefore is making the most of our time now. I really hope New York proves busier for him and allows me the space to focus and enact my revenge.
We're approaching New York City, my birthplace, a city alien to me as I was always confined within walls. I don't harbor fond memories here, but I am fueled by a thirst for vengeance.
I vividly recall how that man dragged me from this city by my hair and how my mother lay dead in her bed from an abortion he had insisted on – all to hide his betrayals and sins. But I intend to make him face his fate; I'll remind him of every sin he’s committed, expose his darkest secrets to the world. There's no sum of money that will help him escape my revenge.
"That building houses our apartment," Alek pointed out as we entered, hands clasped – it has become a routine for him to grip my hand firmly whenever we come and go.
The apartment is opulent, featuring six bedrooms each with its ensuite, and two studies. Alek's study remained unseen by me, but he showed me mine, equipped precisely as I requested: the latest and highest-quality computers and tech – a true paradise. All the equipment I ordered, and then some, was present.
"It's perfect," I commented.
"I'll always give you the best; you just have to ask," Alek said from the doorway.
"I know. But it's late now. Tomorrow, I begin my vendetta; there's much to organize. Let's go rest," I said, stepping out of the study and locking it with the keys he had handed me.
"Are you suggesting something indecent?" Alek whispered in my ear.
"You said you’d let me rest here," I replied uncomfortably.
"I will start work tomorrow; tonight, please don’t make your husband start his day in New York grumpy, or he might just fire half the company out of a bad mood," he joked.
"Only one hour, I want to rise early," I conceded, but as usual, one hour turned into three, and I ended up utterly exhausted, asleep in his arms, not waking until ten the next morning, by which time he'd already left.
I showered, dressed comfortably, and headed down to a lavish breakfast spread with a note.
“I didn't let you rest; apologize. Ordered plenty so you can regain energy. See you tonight. I left numbers for the best restaurants on the kitchen notepad, and if you want to cook, the pantry is stocked. I have several meetings, so I'll be late. See you,” Alek had written.
I sighed, sat down for breakfast, and once done, went straight to my study. I locked myself in, booted up the computers, and decided since Mrs. Villareal hadn't the courage to leave her husband after receiving all those videos of his affairs, I'd anonymously send them to the press. And with Alek's money, I ensured it would feature in the midday news. Ideally, I wanted the story to break in the morning, but since Alek had deprived me of sleep, a midday headline would have to suffice.
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