Chapter 2 Wrong Room

Charlotte was cold and woke up from a girl to a woman who thought she was at her most beautiful, on her most special day, giving herself intact to the man she loved most.

At that moment, she thought she was the happiest woman in the world.

But John's words shattered her happiness, and she heard very clearly the sound of something crashing down in her heart, what was it? She didn't know, she bit her lower lip in death, "John, you ..."

"Don't make such a pathetic noise Charlotte, I never thought you were such a woman, I can't believe I've been fooled by you too." He interrupted her, Charlotte had never heard John sound so cold and vaguely seemed to be relieved, "Seeing as you've liked me for years, I was going to give you a sweet night before the storm to fulfill your nymphomaniacal desires, and now that you've fooled me, it's a two-way street."

She had no idea what he was talking about, why John's voice had become so cold and unfamiliar, why, she couldn't understand a word of what he was saying, and the warmth had a vague sense of foreboding.

"What did you say?" Her voice implied trembling and fear.

The man standing by the phone at the moment seemed to be the devil, a devil she didn't recognize at all, not her gentle John.

John laughed, half mocking, half teasing, "Charlotte, wherever you are, you'd better come home now, and thank you for liking me all these years."

... 

He hung up, Charlotte was stiff and cold, a gust of wind came out of the doorway, the cold burrowed into her bones, the woman's face was as white as paper, something must have happened.

Charlotte got up in a hurry, a moment too soon tugging at the pain between her legs, she reflexively propped herself up on the bed, glancing at the bright red mark, her warm face went a few shades whiter, what she had just thought was a perfect drop of red became ironic and embarrassing at this point.

The memory of last night floated up, she couldn't see his face, but the pleasure and the memory of what he had brought her couldn't be erased, Charlotte covered her chest, who was it? Why was it someone else, not John?

But at this point, she couldn't think about it, she gathered her things and hurried out, looking up at the concierge number, Charlotte sucked in a breath of cold air.

2203.

John booked the room is 2208, she was in a daze, the wrong room?

Charlotte, wanting to cry, clenched her teeth and fled.

God, she'd done the boldest thing in her life by asking John out on a hotel date, but she'd also done the dumbest thing in her life by looking at the wrong room number.

Damn the alcohol.

She had just gotten into the elevator when the doors opened on the 22nd floor and a handsome man in a handmade Armani suit stepped out, took out his room card and walked into 2203, seeing the empty bed, the man's lips curled up into a sneer.