Chapter 1 Wasn't It You?

• A young girl walked down the hallway of the grand hotel, stumbling from side to side. With great difficulty, she inserted the key card to open the room. Her fragile body was not accustomed to alcohol consumption. As the door finally opened, she noticed the darkness inside.
• Before she could react, she was grabbed by the arm, pulled, and then pushed onto the large bed. The man didn't give her time to protest; he forcefully pressed his lips against hers. His skillful hands roamed her body with desperation, and in an instant, he tore away her flimsy dress. He trailed his lips down her neck, reaching her breasts. She felt him suck on them with force. She tried to tell him to slow down, that it was going to be her first time, but before she knew it, she felt a sharp pain in the lower part of her abdomen. Something pierced her insides, threatening to tear her apart.
• The man paused for a moment and then continued, his movements becoming increasingly violent, disregarding the pain she was feeling. After a while, she heard the man stifle a weak grunt, and then he stopped, pulling away from her and turning his back. Shortly after, the girl fell asleep, sobbing.
• In the next room, a woman desperately knocked on the door, trying not to draw too much attention. After a while, she cursed as no one answered and turned around to head back to the restaurant. Once again, her plan had failed.
• In the restaurant, a beautiful Cuban woman flirted with a very handsome blonde guy. Ever since she saw that girl, something about her caught her attention. She was friendly and stunning, with a sculpted body. As soon as she saw her, she decided to go for it. He was an incorrigible playboy who never missed a good opportunity when it presented itself.
• In the morning, Ahmed woke up very early, feeling like his head would explode at any moment. The girl still slept beside him, and he observed her for a moment. She was very beautiful - "How much did she charge for spending the night with him?" he wondered.
• He was sure his friend was responsible for what happened. He must have put some kind of aphrodisiac in his drink, which forced him to leave the dinner he attended in a hurry. A terrible heat ran through his body, so he went up to his room. He thought about taking a shower, but a girl entered shortly after.
• He kept watching her; her long hair was cinnamon-colored, long eyelashes outlined her eyes, and her fair and delicate skin was the softest he had ever touched. A fine and slightly upturned nose added harmony to her perfect angelic face. He felt the urge to kiss her lips; they were full, and he thought her small mouth looked like a heart. He lifted the sheet, and beneath it, he saw the well-proportioned body of the girl. He covered her quickly; unintentionally, his body had reacted to that wonderful sight. That woman was a monument.
• A memory came to his mind - had that girl given him her first time? He checked the sheets and confirmed it - "Damn! His friend must have offered her too much money to give her first time to a complete stranger. What kind of girl would do that?"
• He got up carefully and headed towards the bathroom. After showering, he searched for his luggage to change, only then did he realize that the room contained only women's clothes and personal belongings. He realized he had entered the wrong room, as the door was slightly ajar when he came in. He thought she might have forgotten to close it.
• He dressed in the clothes he had worn the night before and cautiously left the room, noticing it was right next to his. Perhaps his friend realized the mistake and sent the girl to that room. He grabbed his suitcase and left the hotel, getting into the waiting car and calling his friend.
• "Hello, Cambell."
• "What happened, buddy? Where are you? You disappeared from the gathering last night."
• "How could I stay after what you put in my drink? By the way, how much did you pay the girl who spent the night with me?"
• "What drink and what girl? I have no idea what you're talking about. After you left, I met a girl and stayed with her."
• "Uhm, I'm on my way to the airport. If you don't hurry, you'll be flying commercial."
• "Hey, calm down, friend. I'm heading there right away."
• Ahmed hung up and pondered. He knew Cambell would never lie to him; they had known each other for many years, and he had never done so before. He immediately called his right-hand man, Zafir; if anyone could find out what happened, it would be him.
• "Hello."
• "Zafir, I was with a girl last night. Investigate who she is. Someone put some sort of aphrodisiac in my drink. Request the hotel's video camera footage; I want to know what happened."
• "I'll start the investigation right away, sir."
• "Send me the results as soon as you have them."
• He had attended a business meeting at a restaurant in a grand hotel in Los Angeles and was now heading to the airport to board his private plane back to New York; he didn't like commercial flights.
• Meanwhile, in the hotel room, Mía woke up with a terrible hangover headache. It was the first time she had consumed alcohol. She had a vague recollection of what happened the night before. A man had brought her to bed when she entered her room. For a moment, she thought it was just a dream, but as she moved, she felt a sharp pain in her lower abdomen, realizing that it was all real. She had given her virginity to a complete stranger. In the darkness, she couldn't even see his face, and she knew that even if she had, she wouldn't remember it. She picked up the phone to call her best friend, who was staying in the same hotel.
• "Hello, Thara, my friend."
• "Mía, how did you wake up? You got wasted last night, girl. You were so drunk, you could barely stand."
• "You're one to talk with the guy you sent to my room. At least he was handsome. Where did you find him?"
• "What guy, crazy? I didn't send anyone. Wake up and try to sort out your thoughts."
• "What? Don't play games, Thara. This is not a joke. Last night, when I returned to my room, a man was in it. I thought you sent him to help me with what I came here for, so I didn't resist."
• "I hooked up with a really hot guy last night. You told me you were going to your room; remember I walked you to the elevator? I went back to the restaurant and spent the night with the guy I met, who, by the way, gave me the best night of my life. So, I really don't know what you're talking about. Are you sure you didn't dream it?"
• Mía paled at her friend's response. Who was the man she had spent the night with? "Thara Smith, come to my room immediately!" she exclaimed, desperate and on the verge of tears.
• In the car, Ahmed couldn't calm his mind. What the hell had happened the night before? It wasn't easy for him to think that he might have done something wrong with that girl, especially because it was her first time. The guilt was consuming him.
• In another hotel room, the blonde guy bid farewell to the beautiful Cuban woman. They had a great night together, and he would have liked to stay longer with her, but his friend needed him. One concern was that, after so much time, his friend had finally been with a girl. He was starting to believe the rumors that claimed his friend no longer liked girls, and he feared that Ahmed might even suggest that their relationship was something more.
• He chuckled at the thought of what Ahmed would say if he realized what he was thinking at that moment. It would undoubtedly cause an explosion. Lately, Ahmed had been in a bad mood.
• Upon arriving at the airport, Ahmed headed to his private hangar. The flight attendant welcomed him to board the plane. She was a very attractive girl, but he no longer let himself be carried away by such things. Countless women constantly pursued him, and some, after being rejected, didn't hesitate to spread rumors about him. He had to endure his sexuality being questioned. He tried not to carry on with his old life of excess, the life that had caused him to lose everything he loved. The image of Lyna and their young children came to his mind, and he clenched his fists. Then he walked toward the plane to board.