Chapter 42 Zach, Take Me
Alicia stood in the thick night air wearing a pearl-white dress, looking like moonlight itself. She quickly spotted the approaching Maybach.
"Zach!" She rushed over with tears streaming down her face, her voice breaking.
Lucas parked and rolled down his window. "Ms. Davis, Mr. Jennings has had too much to drink. Please come back tomorrow." He politely declined on Zachary's behalf.
But Alicia had no intention of leaving. "Why did Zach drink so much? You're supposed to look out for him! You know he has stomach problems—how could you let him drink like this? What if something happens? Can you handle that responsibility?"
She scolded Lucas like she owned the place. He said nothing, just helped Zachary out of the car.
Alicia immediately took over, grabbing Zachary's hand and guiding him inside while chattering the entire way. "Careful, don't let him hit his head."
Lucas brought Zachary to his bedroom and was about to help him change when Alicia stopped him. "Mr. Murphy, I'll handle this. It's late—you've had a long day. Go home and rest."
Lucas hesitated but eventually left the room. The moment he was gone, Alicia locked the door behind him.
"Zachary, was it really worth it? Destroying yourself over a woman like that?" She dabbed at his face with a towel, her eyes reddening. She was supposed to be the dazzling princess, yet he'd been bewitched by some lowly Cinderella.
At least everything between him and Cinderella was fake. His true destiny was still with her.
Thinking of that cooperation agreement, Alicia's lips curved in a satisfied smile as she approached Zachary. This was the man she'd coveted for so long.
She reached out and began unbuttoning his shirt, one button at a time. Years of working out had given Zachary a solid build—defined abs, sharp V-lines. Seeing his body up close for the first time, Alicia's eyes went wide.
Then an idea struck her. She slipped off her outer clothing and nestled against Zachary's side, raising her phone to capture the moment. She posted it on her social media, setting the visibility to Quinley only.
At the apartment in the south district, Quinley's bedroom lights blazed. After Zachary left, sleep had abandoned her. The sleeping pills she'd taken were useless.
She leaned against her headboard scrolling through her phone, afraid that if she stopped, memories would come flooding back. Suddenly, Alicia's post appeared on her feed.
In the photo, Alicia was curled against Zachary's chest, both of them bare-shouldered with sheets covering their torsos. The image was eye-catching and undeniably intimate.
Alicia had framed the shot cleverly, capturing not just their profiles but also the lamp on Zachary's nightstand—a lamp Quinley recognized. She'd given it to him during their second year together, finding it at an antique shop during a business trip abroad. It wasn't expensive, but it was special. Zachary hadn't minded the modest gift and had placed it right by his bed.
Quinley stared at the photo for a long time. Zachary had just slept with her, left less than an hour ago, and now he was with another woman. What a master of time management.
She zoomed in and out, studying the image over and over until her chest felt blocked. Frustrated, she tossed her phone aside and took a cold shower.
After posting, Alicia felt triumphant. She knew Quinley would see it. Would she be furious or heartbroken? Alicia couldn't predict the outcome, but she was absolutely thrilled.
"Zach, I love you. You can only love me." She cupped Zachary's face and kissed him eagerly, her technique clumsy and desperate.
In his drunken sleep, Zachary felt someone pressing down on him, blocking his mouth. Uncomfortable, he shoved away whatever was weighing him down.
Caught off guard, Alicia tumbled to the floor. "Zach, that hurt!" Her head struck the nightstand with a heavy thud.
Hearing an unfamiliar woman's voice—not Quinley's—Zachary's drunken haze lifted slightly. He sat up abruptly, his bleary eyes finding Alicia.
"What are you doing here?" His voice was thick and confused.
Tears streaming, Alicia rubbed her aching head while reaching toward him with her other hand, wanting him to help her up. "Zach, don't you remember? You called and asked me to come keep you company!"
Zachary shook his head, frowning deeper. He didn't remember calling her.
"Leave." He threw off the covers and stood unsteadily, using furniture and walls for support.
"I won't go. I'm staying to take care of you." Alicia, barely dressed, wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing her scantily clad body against his back. She was tall with curves in all the right places, especially her ample chest. She was confident Zachary couldn't resist her temptation.
When he didn't push her away, Alicia grew bolder. She moved to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck like vines. "Zach, take me—"
Her eyes were misty with desire as she rose on her toes to kiss him. Just as their lips were about to meet, Zachary suddenly erupted in anger and shoved her away.
"Get out!" he roared.
Alicia fell hard on her rear, tears flowing from the pain. She'd thrown herself at him so brazenly, and he was so drunk—why couldn't anything happen between them?
His eyes bloodshot, Zachary stumbled downstairs guided by memory, as if some voice was calling him. He made his way out the door.
Alicia sat on the floor crying for a long time. What was wrong with her? Why wouldn't he want her?
After sobbing for a while, she suddenly stopped. She grabbed her phone and called Quinley, hanging up immediately.
Then she typed a message: "Ms. Elikin, sorry to bother you so late. I have a very personal question—does Zach want it multiple times in one night? Would it be bad if I refused him?"
She sent the WhatsApp message to Quinley, then recalled it just before the one-minute mark.
[Oh, can you tell me what Zach's favorite position is? I can't help making noise—will he mind?]
Like the first time, she recalled it just before the minute was up.
[Ms. Elikin, I don't want to get pregnant before marriage. Would Zach be angry if I asked him to use protection? If he uses condoms, what brand does he prefer?]
She played the same trick over and over.
As expected, Quinley saw every message. She sat rigidly against her headboard, fingers ice-cold, heart racing chaotically.
Alicia kept sending messages. Quinley didn't reply to a single one. The messages were too explicit, too provocative.
Winner takes all, loser gets nothing. Quinley admitted defeat.
Just as the congestion in Quinley's chest reached its peak, knocking suddenly echoed from her door again.