Beg Me, My Ex-Husband

CHAPTER 2

EMILIA kept sighing as she rode in the white car that had picked her up from her house. She sat quietly, staring out the window. Even before reaching her unknown destination, she could feel her heart aching. Instead of being nervous, she was more heartbroken. Because she knew that before this night ended, her self-respect would be tarnished.

Earlier, her father, Henry, had hesitated to let her leave and go with the driver. But she assured him that everything would be fine. She knew then that he was troubled as she left. Emilia was troubled too. But she had to do this. To get it over with. Yes, many women had been involved with Tyron Patterson because of his looks. He was tall, over six feet, with blue eyes and blonde hair. But Emilia was not like the women who were infatuated with him. She just wanted this to be over so she could finally live in peace.

"Are we there yet?" she asked Mark, the driver. He hadn’t spoken much since picking her up. He just introduced himself by name. That’s all.

He glanced at the rearview mirror. “Almost there,” he said simply.

Emilia sighed again. She had lost count of how many times she had done that in the 20 minutes they had been driving.

She stared at her hands, which were now clasped together. She was feeling two emotions at once: anxiety and hurt. But there was nothing she could do about it.

She closed her eyes and tried to relax her mind. She thought of her parents, of their happy memories together. This would all be over soon. Everything would be alright. But for now, she had to endure it.

She felt a little calmer. But when the car finally stopped, her heart pounded in her chest.

They were here. And she was right, she thought, when she heard Mark speak.

“We’re here.”

She opened her eyes. Emilia looked outside and saw that Mark had brought her to a 5-star hotel.

“Is Mister Patterson here?” she asked, glancing at her own appearance. Though she was only wearing a black t-shirt and simple denim jeans, she couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about entering the hotel in such attire.

Mark didn’t answer her question. Instead, he made a call on his phone. After that, he looked at the rearview mirror.

“You can go inside. Just tell your name at the reception and they will direct you,” Mark said before getting out of the car and opening the door for her.

Emilia didn’t say anything and quietly got out. She glanced at the watch on her wrist. It’s 7:45 in the evening. She arrived just in time.

After Mark left, she walked towards the hotel entrance. She let out a breath. This was the first time she would be entering a place like this. Even at the entrance, she felt like she didn’t belong, in a place for the wealthy.

But even so, she continued walking, even though she felt small, until she reached the reception. There were two women there. They scanned her from head to toe. And even though they saw her, they seemed reluctant to entertain her. Why? Was it because her clothes clearly showed she was poor?

“Excuse me,” she got their attention. The two women were chatting and seemed unwilling to be interrupted.

“Excuse me,” she repeated. And if she hadn’t raised her voice, they wouldn’t have turned to her.

“What do you want?” one woman said rudely.

“I didn’t know they allowed beggars to enter this hotel,” another woman said.

Emilia clenched her fist. Why were these two women acting like this? They were just employees of the hotel, but they acted as if they were the company’s heirs.

She ignored what they said. She didn’t go there to fight.

“Good evening,” she said in a normal voice. “I’m Emilia Green,” she added. Mark said to just tell her name.

“Emilia Green?” the woman said, looking incredulous.

Emilia nodded. “Do I need to repeat myself?” she said in a gruff tone.

The woman didn’t speak. She just glared at her. “This way. Follow me,” she said.

Emilia followed her until they reached the elevator. The woman pressed the letter P.

“This card is for the penthouse,” the woman said, her voice soft but Emilia knew she was annoyed.

Emilia took the card. She didn’t thank her, considering the woman was rude.

After a while, they reached the penthouse. Emilia stepped out of the elevator while the woman stayed inside.

“Another woman willing to offer herself to Mister Patterson. Desperate women. I wonder what he sees in you that he would choose you,” the woman said to Emilia.

But Emilia remained silent. She didn’t need to explain to her why she was there.

“Good luck. After tonight, he’ll dump you too,” the woman added before the door closed.

Emilia shook her head. Hopefully. Hopefully, after tonight, Tyron would dump her immediately. As payment for her family’s debt. But she knew that was unlikely because they had an agreement.

Emilia turned to enter the penthouse. As she entered, she was greeted by the dim surroundings. Until she saw the note and a box in the middle of the table. She approached it and read what was written.

“Go, take a shower and wear the lingerie in the box. Good luck with your performance later.”

Emilia’s grip on the note tightened. Just reading what was written there, she could already smell Tyron Patterson’s vulgarity.

There was also an instruction on the note about where the bathroom was. Emilia let out a breath. Carrying the box, she went to the bathroom to shower.

After showering, she stared at her own reflection in the mirror. She was now wearing the red, see-through lingerie that left little to the imagination.

She bit her lower lip. She wasn’t used to wearing something like this. She felt like she wasn’t wearing anything at all.

“You can do this, Emilia. For Henry and Marie,” she said to herself. She closed her eyes and thought about her parents. Just thinking about Henry being imprisoned and Marie being hurt, she felt pained.

She let out another breath and stared blankly at the mirror. “This will all be over soon,” she whispered before reading another note with instructions for her next move.

She looked for the room Tyron mentioned where she was supposed to go. And when she found it, she knocked. But even though she didn’t get a response, she still turned the knob and entered.

Like the living room, the lights inside were dim. But she was greeted by the bed and pole in the middle of the room.

And from the side of it, there was a sofa where Tyron was sitting. Like in his office earlier, he was holding a glass of wine in his right hand.

He was still wearing his suit but the top three buttons were unbuttoned and his tie was loosely tied.

“You’re 15 minutes late. You were supposed to be here by 8:00. I hate being late, Miss Green. Every minute is important to me,” Tyron said to her, his baritone voice serious.

Emilia rolled her eyes despite the nervousness she felt.

“I got here at exactly 7:45. I was 15 minutes early. It’s not my fault that the two women at the reception didn’t want to talk to me. Acting like they’re the hotel’s heirs,” she said.

She saw the corner of Tyron’s lips lift. But it disappeared as soon as he looked at her. She shivered. It felt like Tyron was sucking her soul.

He stood up and walked towards her. She stepped back.

“Chill. I won’t touch you.”

Emilia didn’t know if she should be thankful for what Tyron said. Because if he just prolonged their agreement, it would take even longer for her to repay her family’s debt.

“Then why am I here?” she said pointedly.

“I said chill, sweetheart. I won’t touch you. Not tonight. I need to have you checked by a doctor first to make sure you’re clean—“

“I’m a virgin—I mean I am clean!” she interrupted him. She just couldn’t bring herself to tell Tyron directly that she had no experience with men. But even if she did have experience, what he said to her was still offensive.

Tyron shrugged. “It’s easy to say you’re clean. I need to be sure,” he said before turning his back on her. He went back to the sofa and sat down. He looked at Emilia again.

She let out a breath. Okay, she got his point.

“So what do you need from me now?” she asked in a firm voice.

“Tomorrow, Mark will accompany you to the doctor. And I have a contract here…”

Emilia followed Tyron’s gaze and saw him looking at the table, noticing the folder on top of it.

“You can review that tomorrow. That contract states what you should and shouldn’t do in this agreement.”

“If I don’t like something in the contract, can I change it?” Emilia asked.

Tyron played with the ice in his glass before turning to her. “Depends. But maybe I won’t agree. Remember, you owe me. So you’ll follow everything I ask.”

Emilia let out a breath, trying to control her anger. This man was so arrogant.

“Then there’s no point in me even reading it. You’re the one who gets to decide anyway,” Emilia said sarcastically.

“Exactly.” Tyron smirked at her.

She clenched her fist. Just a little more of this man’s arrogance and this agreement would be over.

“What else do I have to do here? Can I go home and read the contract that you’re the only one who gets to decide anyway?!” she said. She couldn’t stand being with this man. Emilia’s blood was boiling. She was fuming with anger.

“I can see the anger in your eyes, Miss Green,” he said mockingly. Tyron smirked at her. “Why are you angry at me? When you’re the one who needs me? Remember, if it weren’t for me, your beloved mother’s life wouldn’t be extended,” he added, sounding innocent.

Emilia closed her eyes. She couldn’t provoke Tyron. He might back out of their agreement.

“I’m not angry,” she said in a forced, softened voice.

“Really?” Tyron asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

She nodded. “What else do I have to do? Why can’t I leave yet? Do you have something for me to do?” she asked in a low voice.

“Of course. What do you think that lingerie you’re wearing is for? Just for display? I want you to strip and dance for me,” Tyron said. He held a remote and pressed it. And with that, before Emilia could even react, sensual music filled the room.

“Dance, Miss Green. And I want you to slowly undress in front of me while you dance on that pole.” Tyron pointed to the pole in the middle of the room.

Emilia swallowed hard, one after another. She hoped that after this night, she could still look at herself in the mirror. She hoped she could still accept herself.

“Seduce me, honey, and I’ll play myself while watching you,” Tyron said, vulgar and lewd, before downing his drink in one gulp and leaning back on the sofa, his gaze lustful.