Chapter 5 The Hunt Begins
Elena crept out of the room, then ran toward the elevator. As soon as the elevator doors closed and she began descending, Elena leaned her back against the wall, catching her breath. Her eyes stared at the floor numbers ticking down.
"This place is too luxurious for a gigolo," she thought suspiciously.
"That man must have a regular wealthy female client who lent him this penthouse as a meeting place. Crazy—what if I just slept with some rich woman's kept man?"
Elena quickly exited the building through the back door, determined to forget this crazy night and never see that man again. She didn't know that upstairs, Elijah had actually woken up moments after Elena left, and he was now staring at the money on the nightstand with an annoyed expression.
Elijah exhaled roughly, then sat up on the edge of the bed. He ran his fingers through his messy hair in frustration, his gaze fixed on the few bills lying on the nightstand—a blatant insult to a man of his status.
"Damn it," he cursed.
He grabbed the money, crushing it in his strong fist until the bills were crumpled beyond shape. His jaw tightened, and a flash of obsession began to appear in his sharp blue eyes.
"So, she really thinks I'm a gigolo, and even paid me?" Elijah muttered with a cynical laugh. The laugh didn't sound amused—it was filled with dark emotion, clearly visible in both of Elijah's eyes.
Elijah grabbed his phone from the floor with a rough motion. Still shirtless, he dialed a number that was exclusively connected to his personal security and intelligence team.
The call was answered on the first ring.
"Sir?" his personal assistant's voice sounded alert on the other end.
"Find out who the woman was that you saw with me at the bar last night—the woman who almost fell right next to me," Elijah commanded in a cold voice that could freeze the air around him.
He stood up from the bed, walking toward the large glass window while still squeezing the crumpled hundred-dollar bills in his grip. His eyes stared sharply at the city buildings, as if he were hunting prey in a concrete jungle.
"Find her identity now. I want to know everything. Her name, her job, where she lives, and who the 'bastard' man she kept mentioning last night is."
"Very well, Sir. We'll do it immediately," his assistant replied without many questions.
Elijah turned off his phone and tossed it back onto the bed. He smirked slightly—a smile of a very dangerous predator.
"You're terribly wrong if you think you can discard me after using me, Elena. You paid me money for tonight? Fine then. I'll make sure the service I provide never ends until I myself feel it's enough."
....
Elena got out of the taxi with her body still trembling. In front of Morgan's grand mansion gate, she took a deep breath, trying to gather the last remnants of her courage. She entered the house very carefully, creeping like a thief in her own home.
While removing both of her heels to avoid making noise on the cold marble floor, Elena walked on her tiptoes. She occasionally glanced toward the corridor, afraid that a servant might wake up and catch her coming home in a striking red dress at this early hour.
She hurriedly entered her wedding chamber, then immediately locked the door from the inside. As soon as her back touched the door, Elena slid down to the floor. She winced, feeling pain and soreness throughout her body—a reminder that what happened in that penthouse room was indeed real.
Her eyes stared vacantly at the rose petals still neatly arranged on the bed. Tears fell uncontrollably.
Tonight should have been her wedding night, where she would have made love with Morgan. The virginity she had guarded for twenty-seven years should have been offered to her husband. But instead, she had given it to a handsome gigolo whose real name she didn't even know, all because of anger and revenge.
"Damn it, damn it! Morgan, I’m going to check your social media with a stalker account. I’m certain you’re with that woman Marissa—that bitch who always acts weak but is actually a snake," Elena cursed. She was convinced that Morgan had gone to the house of the woman who was still his mistress.
Elena crawled toward the nightstand, her trembling hand reaching for her phone. She quickly opened a secret account she used specifically to monitor the temptress who had lured Morgan away on their wedding night.
The name Marissa had long been etched in Elena's mind as a parasite in their relationship since their engagement. Marissa was the type of woman who always appeared with light makeup, modest pastel clothes, and a sickeningly soft voice—the kind of woman who made men feel like they needed to be heroes. But Elena knew that behind that holy and innocent face, Marissa was a master manipulator who had managed to bind Morgan even before the wedding ring touched Elena's finger.
Elena’s fingers moved swiftly across the screen.
Click!
A new post appeared on Marissa’s Instagram story. It was just a photo of an airplane wing above the clouds, but in the bottom corner, a man’s hand was visible wearing a limited edition Rolex that Elena recognized instantly. It was the watch her father had given Morgan as a wedding gift.
"London?" Elena whispered, seeing the location tag that was intentionally blurred but readable to her sharp eyes. "You took her to London? When you were supposed to be touching me for the first time?!"
A wave of revulsion hit her. Morgan hadn't just left; he was flaunting it. He was destroying Elena's dignity in front of the woman she hated most.
"You bastard, Morgan! And you, Daniel... how could you call this man your best friend?" Elena sobbed, her voice muffled by the silk pillow that was now soaked with tears.
She remembered how Daniel, her older brother who had always been a hero in her eyes, guaranteed that Morgan was the most honorable man on Wall Street. Daniel was the one who had convinced her that this marriage was the safest harbor for her after their parents' death.
"Morgan is a loyal man, El. He often asked about you when we were still in the dorms," that damn Daniel had said back then.
Lies. All of it was a lie. Morgan only loved their family’s shares, and Daniel... perhaps her brother just needed a capital injection from Morgan to save his personal, nearly bankrupt cargo company. Daniel was a traitor!
Elena finally realized that Morgan already had a lover—someone he truly loved. But what could she do? A business marriage is always hard to escape, isn't it?
In the middle of her sobbing, Elena’s phone, lying on the shag rug, suddenly vibrated. A notification appeared from an unregistered number.
\[I haven't received the remaining balance yet, Miss.\]
Elena bolted upright, her breath hitching. Her heart hammered so loudly that her ears began to ring.
'Remaining balance? Who?' Elena thought.