Chapter 21: An Amazing nightstand with a stranger.

Chapter 21: An Amazing nightstand with a stranger.
Sherry stood in the center of the suite, the silence thick after Enzo’s departure. His last words hung like a storm cloud.
“You’re safe here.”
She crossed her arms over her chest tightly and stared darkly at the door long after it had creaked shut silently behind somebody else.
Her heart thudded sluggishly now with fear ebbing rapidly, and something far more sinister supplanted it entirely in its wake.
She felt a hollow, dull ache that she couldn't quite put her finger on. He married a man who simultaneously shielded and shunned her, showing off brutal fear yet evading deeply emotional eye contact.
She sighed heavily after a moment and then slowly, with considerable reluctance, moved towards a closet.
Tonight featured a business dinner down in Tokyo, being part of their event of this utterly bewildering detour somehow.
She tried on four different frocks before opting for a sleek emerald green silk number that cinched at her waist and flared somewhat downwards around her knees. Something about color made her skin glow eerily and her curves sharpen remarkably beneath softly falling morning light.
Enzo hadn’t said a word about how she looked at the last meeting. Maybe tonight he would.
By the time they arrived at the towering glass building hosting the dinner, Enzo had slipped into his other self, that perfectly polished billionaire mask.
Charcoal suit. Cufflinks. That intoxicating cologne always made her breath catch, even when she didn’t want it to.
Sherry entered the ballroom on his arm, but the moment they stepped inside, something changed. Heads turned. Conversations paused. All eyes, male eyes, seemed to settle on her with unnerving heat.
One of Enzo’s colleagues, tall, bronze-skinned, with a jaw like a model and a smirk to match, stepped forward.
“Well, well. Enzo, you never told us you married a goddess.”
Another man chuckled low. “If I’d known this was the prize, I’d have come earlier.”
Sherry froze at the crude remark, but Enzo only gave a tight smile, his jaw ticking slightly.
“Behave,” Enzo said coolly, though his voice was edged with steel.
More introductions followed, but it didn’t matter. Every man who shook her hand held it too long. Every smile lingered too intimately. And through it all, Enzo remained unreadable.
But she saw it.
In the way, his eyes tracked every man who looked at her. In the stiffness of his spine. The way his hand at the small of her back gripped harder than usual.
Jealousy.
It simmered beneath his mask, but he didn’t say a word. Not even when one man leaned in far too close and whispered, “If you ever tire of him, I have a private island with your name on it.”
Enzo’s hand tightened on her waist, but he still didn’t speak.
That silence followed them back to the car.
That silence deepened in the suite.
Until Enzo turned to her at the door and said, “Get some rest. I have one more meeting tonight.”
He didn’t wait for a response.
He didn’t even meet her eyes.
He just left.
And Sherry was too stunned, too exhausted, to follow.
Enzo’s fury didn’t crack.
It detonated.
The moment he walked into the private lounge, the brunette was waiting, legs crossed, lips painted blood red, eyes already stripping him.
He didn’t ask her name.
He didn’t care.
She reached for him before he sat, her hands gliding down his chest like she already knew what he needed. She wasn’t wrong.
His mouth crashed down on hers with bruising force, his hands already at the zip on her tight black dress.
She had become so horny. She gasped, breathless, and he pushed her back onto the velvet couch, pulling her dress down until her breasts popped out.
He devoured one of her pop-out breasts, sucking it hard, his tongue moving around her nipple until she moaned uncontrollably like she belonged to him.
“Lie back,” he said, his voice low and rough.
She did what he said without question, spreading her legs for him, already breathing hard.
He kissed his way down her body, slow and hungry, then hooked a finger under her panties and yanked them aside. Sending shivers down her spine She was already wet.
He didn’t wait; his mouth was on her in seconds, tongue teasing her clit in lazy circles at first, then faster, firmer, until her hips were lifting off the couch. Enzo stroked her clit with his index finger and drove his tongue into her hole.
“Oh, fuck it,” she moaned, and he began to tongue-fuck her with his fingers more.
A soft whimper escaped her lips.
“Take it,” he murmured into her ear. “You asked for this.”
Then his fingers were inside her vagina, two of them deep and sure, moving in perfect rhythm as he sucked and ate her clit like he meant to break her apart. She came quickly, her whole body shaking as she cried out his name.
But he didn’t stop.
He quickly undid his button. He pulled his trousers open and his belt hit the floor with a quiet clink. He turned her over immediately. He pulled out his cock, hard and thick, and positioned himself behind her. No teasing. No warning. He pushed his cock into her in one hard stroke, deep and fast.
She moaned loudly, gripping the cushions.
He fucked her like he was angry. Like he was trying to punish something that wasn’t even her fault. His thrusts were hard, rough, almost too much.
But none of it was about her.
In his mind, all he saw was Sherry.
The way those men looked at her earlier. The way she smiled at them as they mattered. Like she didn’t belong to him.
Every time he thrust into the girl beneath him, it was out of jealousy burning in his chest. The kind he couldn’t say out loud. Every brutal thrust was him trying to get Sherry out of his system.
But it didn’t work.
Even when the girl screamed his name and tightened around him, even when he came inside her with a guttural growl, his thoughts were still on Sherry.
Only Sherry.
And he hated himself for that more than anything else.
Hours later, the suite had fallen back into silence. A thick, heavy silence—not peaceful, not restful, but the kind that lingered in the air like the aftermath of a storm.
Enzo had returned sometime after midnight. The door had clicked shut behind him without ceremony, without a word. No apology. No explanation. Just the sound of expensive shoes being toed off and a jacket tossed somewhere onto a chair.
Sherry lay in bed quite still when he crept in, though sleep had long eluded her restless, troubled mind. She lay on the far edge of the mattress, cocooned in a pale silk robe, her body curled toward the window where Tokyo's skyline still throbbed with life beyond.
Her face glowed softly in ambient city light, with lashes brushing against her cheek as her eyes fluttered shut, pretending deep slumber. She feigned not having heard him enter silently from behind.
She feigned indifference rather nonchalantly with an air of studied apathy. She hadn't bothered asking him exactly where he was headed afterward. She avoided inquiry not out of ignorance or apathy but because probing felt too intimate, perilously candid, and uncomfortably self-exposing somehow.
And honestly… part of her had needed the space. The quiet. The moment to breathe without the electric pressure of his presence suffocates every breath.
Still, she hadn’t said a word since he walked back in. And neither had he.
Enzo lay on his back, a few inches away yet a thousand miles apart. The sheets barely touched his bare torso.
His eyes were wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling as if it held answers he didn’t want to face. His face, usually carved in confidence, was drawn, distant.
Haunted.
Unfulfilled.
Every muscle in his body was taut like he was bracing for something—impact, confrontation, or confession. But none came. Just silence.
He wasn’t sure what disturbed him more: her quiet or his guilt. He was the one who had built this world. A game of power, seduction, and control. A game where he always won. But now… the rules no longer made sense. And for the first time, he wasn’t sure who was playing whom.
He had left tonight searching for space, maybe even for clarity. Instead, he’d returned with the suffocating weight of his own choices pressing on his chest like a vise.
And now, with her inches away and oceans apart, Enzo stared into the darkness, knowing he was trapped not by her, but by himself.
By the one thing he never accounted for in this whole game.
Feelings.
Real ones.
And the terrifying truth that he might have already gone too far to undo it.
Just as Sherry drifted off, her phone vibrated on the nightstand.
She stirred slightly, reaching for it.
A message.
From an unknown number.
You don’t have to stay in his shadow. I can offer you freedom. Let’s talk. —Robert Gray
Her lips parted in surprise, breath catching in her throat.
She sat up slowly, reading it again.