ALEK ROMANOV
I developed an addiction to being intimate with Leila; initially, I held back, but witnessing her complaisant nature, once desire and passion seized her body, I found it impossible to restrain myself. I yearned to claim her tirelessly. While she is focused on her quest for vengeance in New York, I can't help but envision her moaning for me every time I lay eyes on her. I feel compelled to take her to the bedroom, to hear her voice in ecstasy. Here in New York, I should find it easier to control myself, given my heavy workload, which typically leaves me exhausted when I return home. After waking from our first night here, I found her sleeping naked in my arms. Tempted to take her once more, I recalled my promise to let her rest. So, I showered, ordered a large breakfast knowing her love for a varied meal, while I opted for something light. Once ready, I gathered my belongings and set off to the company. Leila had given me a USB drive with evidence of my innocence, but time had eluded me to review it and learn who had framed me.
Upon arriving at the company, I locked myself in my office, scrutinizing the videos and evidence she had provided. After piecing everything together, a wicked smile surfaced. My cousin Felix had been the one who paid the girl and, worse, had inflicted injuries to make it seem as if I were the perpetrator. Following the scandal, he managed the business for a year and later assumed the second-in-command position when grandfather forgave me. But with this new evidence, his downfall was imminent, likely stripping him of all his power.
"Igor, send everything on this USB to grandfather and call for a meeting with everyone first thing tomorrow," I instructed my assistant.
"As you command, sir," Igor departed, and I continued with my day's work. Midday, Igor returned.
"Is there an issue?" I inquired.
"Sir, we've uncovered new information regarding your wife," Igor stated.
"Eagerly, I requested details, giving him my full attention.
"Her whereabouts remain unknown, but we have records of her mother giving birth to non-identical twins. Upon discharge, the mother relocated to the servant quarters of the Villareal mansion, working there until her death. Digging deeper, we discovered everyone knew of the boy, Leo, but the girl remained a mystery; her face and eyes unknown to all. Then, eight years ago, they reportedly died in a car accident while Mrs. Villareal was away. However, we found it was a cover-up: Mrs. Scott died from a botched abortion, and the girl was confined to a boarding school until legal age by Mr. Villareal's orders. His brother, Mr. Villareal, adopted Leo, and now he lives with their family, a notorious playboy just like his father, engaged to a prominent New York family, the Smiths," Igor revealed.
"I need everything on that family and Leo's connection to my wife—photos, details, the works," I demanded.
"Perhaps these photos will elucidate their relationship," Igor handed me a photo of Leila and one of the man. They were remarkably alike, mirroring each other, one male and the other female.
"They’re father and daughter, but why this secrecy?" I questioned, bewildered.
"It seems he hid her due to their striking resemblance, something not even shared with her twin brother," Igor continued, presenting photos of the man's other four children. Although some bore his eyes or hair, none matched as closely as Leila, nearly his living reflection.
"I want everything on this man, his enterprises, associates, even his breakfast preferences," I ordered sternly.
"Well, this just broke," Igor extended his phone, showing me the day's news—a major scandal featuring Mr. Villareal with various lovers, undoubtedly Leila's handiwork.
"Keep me updated on all matters related to that family, and arrange covert protection for my wife," I instructed.
"Right away, sir," Igor left, and I fought the urge to call Leila. She deserved to revel in her revenge, and I would allow her this pleasure.
My desk swamped with work, I skipped lunch, opting for a quick bite, and by 10 PM, I hadn't even had dinner. Gathering my things, I headed back to our apartment and grabbed a late snack before entering our room. Leila lay asleep on the sofa. Trying not to disturb her, I showered, and in just my boxers, carried her to bed.
"I thought you wouldn't make it back to sleep," she murmured, eyes still closed.
"I did say work is hectic here in New York," I replied, settling her against my chest for our usual embracing sleep.
"I know," she snuggled closer.
"Telling you to rest, yet you make it challenging," I commented lightly.
"Quiet, you pervert, just sleep," she quipped, and after a shared kiss, I embraced her. "Rest well, my warrior," I whispered, closing my eyes.
The next morning, she was no longer in my arms. After readying for the day with a shower, I grabbed my things for an important early meeting.
"Good morning," I greeted, entering the dining area and downing a glass of juice.
"Aren't you joining for breakfast?" Leila inquired.
"No, there's an important meeting I can't miss. See you tonight," I pecked her lips hastily and left the apartment.
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