FUCK ME

CHAPTER 4

OLIVIA'S POV.

My eyes finally flipped open after a long sleep, and I darted around, taking in the atmosphere of the environment I was in. My heart raced as I tried to stand up from the bed.

This is a damn hospital! How did I get here? I threw off the mattress cover that was draped over me and sat up in bed. The only thing I could remember was my sister and her fiancé drugging my drink and leaking my photos to the press. And then I drove off recklessly...

The door swung open, and a man wearing a white coat walked in, followed closely by another man. My gaze shifted to the man following the doctor, and I couldn't help but gasp. He was notoriously handsome, with a chiseled jaw, grayish beard, and abs that looked like they were sculpted. He wore an expensive Gucci suit, leaving me wondering who he was.

The doctor approached me with a soft smile. “Thank God you're awake. Your husband is here to see you.”

My eyes went wide, disbelief washing over me as I raised my head. “Hus... husband?”

He shook his head, shifting to the side to give way for the handsome Greek lord to come closer.

And I swear he smells just as good as he looks. I felt the urge to lick his face to see if he tasted the same, but I restrained myself.

“Hey, are you alright?” the man asked in a soft voice.

I just stared at him,I couldn't respond.

“With the way you drove out there, you could have gotten yourself killed,” he scolded, his voice laced with a hint of concern, even if he seemed a little angry.

I fidgeted with my clothes, trying to avoid eye contact as tears began to form in my eyes. I just couldn't help it. The betrayal hit deep. It was one thing to be betrayed, and another when it comes directly from home, and no one even believes you.

“Where are you heading to? They will discharge you now. Just say your address, and I will drive you back home,” he offered, his voice gentle.

I shook my head, my voice muffled by sobs. The realization that I no longer had a house or family to go home to hit me like a lightning bolt. The thought of going back and seeing their faces?

I’d do anything not to return home.

“Come on,” he urged, his voice firm but kind. “You’re in no state to drive now. You need rest; you’ve been in a coma for more than a week. Just say your address. I have a lot of things to do right now.”

I remained silent, the memories of how Samantha had given me that drugged drink and I downed it in one go still lingering in my mind. I just couldn’t help it.

The man let out a deep, disappointed sigh, walking inches closer to my bed. “Look, young lady,” he said impatiently, “I should have left this city long ago, but I’m only here because of you. Give me your address and let me take you back home to your damn family!”

I raised my head and stared at his handsome face, knowing he was dead serious. He wasn’t joking with me right now, so I needed to make a choice—and I needed to make it quickly.

For one, I didn’t want to be left here. I had no money on me right now, and I couldn’t go back to that house. I just wanted to be whisked away from this town.

With a shaky nod, I said, “Where is your car?”

He nodded. “Good!” Stretching out his hand and pointing outside, he said, “It’s over there.”

Reluctantly, I slowly got out of bed, feeling a deep pain gnawing at my chest. I was sure it wasn't from the accident earlier… my heart still ached. I walked as he guided me to his car, helping me settle into it carefully.

He settled in too and slammed his door. “My driver will drive your car to your house later today when they’re done with the repairs.”

I couldn’t help but steal a glance at my savior. He was even helping me repair my car. I couldn’t care less, though. I just kept staring at him. He was handsome in such a deadly and rugged way that I couldn’t quite explain; his dark curly hair swept across his forehead when he turned to look at me with those piercing brown eyes.

“So, where are you heading to?” he asked, turning the engine on, ready to drive to my destination.

I bit my lower lip and fidgeted with my dress, not knowing what to say exactly. I could go anywhere as long as it wasn’t my house, the company, or anywhere near my family—the people I was running from.

He snapped impatiently when I didn’t answer. “I said, where to, young lady?”

I averted my eyes from his intense gaze when I noticed he was staring down at me. Then, out of nowhere, a crazy thought crept into my mind.

I blurted out softly, “Let’s go to your place.” He quickly jerked his gaze to me, his expression one of instant shock; even I was surprised by what I had just demanded.

“My place?” His voice was filled with surprise as he stared blankly at me. “You mean my own house?”

“Yes,” I nodded. “I’ll go with you anywhere you’re going.” He kept silent, but I knew what must be going through his mind; he must think I was a lunatic who had clung onto him and refused to let go. After a while, he sighed and revved the car to life, hitting the road. He didn’t talk to me anymore, and the whole journey was silent, except for the soft ambient music playing in his car.

Minutes later, we pulled into a luxurious hotel, and he parked his car in the parking lot. He exited the vehicle and helped me out as well.

“Look, I don't have a house. I don't live in this city, so I don't know where your place is. If there's a problem, you can tell me, or call your family, or I can help you call the cops!”

I sharply shook my head. “No, don’t do that. I will stay here with you and leave when you leave.” He seemed hesitant initially but took me to his big suite. I couldn't let him call the cops, knowing my family runs New York City, and it would never end well for me. Everyone would know I was still here.

A few minutes later, inside the suite, I sat on the soft couch while he served me some nice wine. I quickly refused it, tossing the glass away, causing it to crash to the floor and spill its contents everywhere.

I curled myself into a ball, my hands trembling. I shouldn't have pushed the drink away like that, but I couldn't help but worry—was he trying to drug me too?

When he came back, he silently turned on the TV for me, crouching down on his knees to wipe the floor and pick up the broken glass. I stared at him, and a deep wave of guilt washed over me.

“You can watch television while I make you something to eat,” he suggested kindly. But as I raised my head to the screen, I saw the New York Times news: Samantha and Lucas were getting married today. My heart shattered into pieces as tears rolled down my face uncontrollably.

“Hey, what happened?” the handsome stranger asked calmly, pushing the pillows aside to sit next to me. “Why are you crying? You’re safe now,you don’t need to cry.”

I raised my gaze to him but couldn't bring myself to tell him that my sister had deceived me, taken my spot as heiress, and now she had taken my husband too. I felt foolish for not having suspected anything from the outset. I just shook my head, and a torrent of tears streamed down my face.

“Maybe you should try to freshen up,” he suggested, pulling me by the arm and leading me to a room that seemed to belong to him, judging by the clothes and Rolex watches on the table.

I looked at him and wondered if he was married or if he might be worth a shot.

I needed something to keep me busy, something to distract me from the news I had just watched.

"I can't bathe myself. Would you bathe me?" I asked bluntly.

He stared at me in bewilderment, refusing to say another word.

"I just had an accident," I added, trying to make it more convincing while I fought back shame. Truly, the words had tumbled out faster than I expected.

I mean, we're both not married, right? There's no harm in trying to bathe a recovering patient.

Finally, he spoke, his voice still calm. "I understand, but I can call one of the ladies down there to come help bathe you. Why do you choose me?"

I took a deep, shaky breath. This was the point where I was supposed to back down and take my bath by myself, but my gut told me to keep going. I knew I might have made some crazy life mistakes, like trusting Lucas and Samantha, and worse of all, sleeping with the man I slept with. But I wouldn't mind doing this final thing that he might consent to so I could forgive myself and snap back to my senses.

He studied me for a long moment, his expression quite unreadable. I could swear he was dancing to my tune right now. The next minute, he walked up to me, slowly helped me undo my necklace, and gently placed it on the table. Then he began to undress me, shame washing over me.

I turned to him and took the reins. I whispered, "What I need is for you to fuck me, not bathe me!" I let go of my bra, leaving my body stark naked in front of him, and he quickly turned away.

I walked to him, raising myself on my toes and pressing my body against his as I leaned in to kiss him. The moment our lips met, he let go of any hesitation and returned the kiss with equal passion. Before I could wrap my head around what was happening, I was already on the bed.