The CEO's Divorced Wife is Pregnant

Chapter Three: Cherry

"Excuse m-"

"Name."

Before I can ask the beautiful escort’s rates for s*x, he speaks over me.

"What?"

"Your name, Bellissima." (Beautiful)

Bellissima?

Is that still Italian?

Wait, he asked my name. Hmm… Penny? Cher? Who do I want to be tonight? I mean, no one tells an escort their actual name, and I'm sure he expects me to lie, too.

I would say ‘Melissa’ out of spite, but if he called her name as a kind of service while having s*x with me, I would be seriously put off.

"I'm..."

My gaze lingers on the cherry resting seductively between the red lips of a woman who is staring at the back of the man talking to me.

"…cherry."

"Just Cherry?"

He frowns at the name given.

"Yes? Just Cherry.”

I confirm, unsure of what he is inquiring.

"I am Luca Marchetti. But for tonight, I'll be 'just' Luca."

Hah! Is he using ‘the’ Luca Marchetti’s name as his escort name? Does he have a death wish?

Well, I am in no position to judge; I am basically using a fruit as my name.

I stretch my hand forward, swallowing my nervousness.

‘Luca’ takes my offered hand, kissing it before pulling me into his large body. It must be the alcohol in my system because I think he whispers something along the lines of ‘get lost’ to the men around him dressed in suits before wrapping me into his hold as if taking ownership of me.

I shudder as my breasts crash into his hard chest, enjoying the strange ripples of pleasure caressing my skin.

What is this feeling? Am I drunk?

Would I feel the same way if Dean held me this tightly? Maybe I should stop- oh, right, he is with Melissa.

The last lingering thought causes me to steel myself in my decision and look up at the storm-coloured, unsmiling eyes watching me.

"Well, ‘Luca’, I want an unforgettable night, but just one night. Do you understand?"

So don’t stay in the room and charge me for extra hours, once we are satisfied, take your money and leave.

He smiles at my response. It feels as if he has understood the words I left unspoken, so I no longer feel the need to voice them.

Huh…

Why does his smile look dangerous? Did he really understand?

"Well, when you say it so clearly, how can I not."

He reassures.

**

**Dean Rochester**

Dean Rochester checked his watch for the third time before sighing and looking at the sky. The blueish hue of dawn was slowly turning golden as the sun rose.

Maybe it was his mood, but he felt as if he were floating.

He had spent what felt like a magical night under Melissa’s warm gaze. Even their long walk through the bridge above River Gloria felt short despite being over an hour long. Whenever he was with her, time seemed to flow differently, so before his divorce was finalised, he told her that he would leave Cecilia.

Of course, she had no idea that his marriage was fake, nor did he have any intention of telling her that fact because he loved the way her eyes lit up when she asked if it was ‘for her’.

It almost made him wish that his divorce would be announced faster, but every time that thought crossed his mind, a sudden bitterness that he could not identify filled his mouth.

It didn’t make any sense. Cecilia had a knack for always getting into embarrassing situations that damaged his reputation. He should be happy to let her go, especially since that means being with Melissa, but why did he not like it?

As Dean entered the main house, the smell of breakfast wafted through the air. Being neither hungry nor tired, he decided to shower so he could at least have breakfast with Cecilia and prepare her for the next phase of legal matters to handle.

He imagined her cold expression that never changed as he explained the press conferences she would have to attend with him to smoothen the blow of the divorce with the investors of his company.

A smile almost crept on his face at how perfect she was under pressure, alongside the realisation that he would definitely miss that side of her since Melissa was more on the sensitive side. It would be good if she could teach Melissa how to remain composed.

Should he leave this house for her in exchange for those lessons?

He would bring that up during breakfast, he decided as he entered his room.

The master bedroom was huge, with an adjoining door that connected his room to Cecilia’s. While he never opened it, Cecilia did every time he came into the house late, whether to check up on him or ask if he would have breakfast with her. She was always the first one, so even as he removed his watch and loosened his tie, his gaze remained on the door.

But, no matter how long he waited, the door didn’t open.

Why?

Was she sleeping in, or was she feeling embarrassed about the party?

Hah, as if! His Cecilia didn’t feel such things; she was too cold for that.

“I’ll see you at breakfast; I’m taking a shower.”

He announced, knowing she could hear him on the other side. He was tired of waiting.

**

"Where is Cecilia?"

The question came after about fifteen minutes of staring at his coffee, which had undoubtedly gone cold.

The maids around him stared at each other, but before anyone could step in, the butler walked into the dining room and bowed.

“Where is she?”

He asked again, but without answering, the butler placed the divorce documents in his hands on the dining table next to where Cecilia’s food sat.

“This isn’t an answer, Butler.”

“Ah- yes, Miss Cecilia has signed the papers you requested.”

The butler answered as if thinking that was his greatest concern.

Dean’s tongue clicked loudly against the roof of his mouth.

“Where is my wife? I will not ask again.”

“Oh-h…the former Madam of the house left last night.”

Light murmurs from the maids arose at the use of the word ‘former’ as if shocked by the news. Dean's hand slammed loudly on the dining table, causing everyone to flinch in their positions.

Without a word, he left the dining room and strode up the endless stairs and across the daunting hallway; no matter how fast his steps were, he felt as if he wasn’t getting closer to their room.

She left? She left him? She just…left?

What the hell was that supposed to mean? He told her to take her time!

"Mr Rochester."

The maids in the hallway bowed and greeted him, but he paid them no mind and strolled forward as if chased.

Without knocking or showing any courtesy, he flung open the adjoining door and entered Cecilia’s room.

The dominant scent of crisp green apples washed over him before he noticed the dark and empty feeling of the room. The things he bought for her were present, but for some reason, he couldn’t shake the odd emptiness in his chest.

Dean was so focused on scanning for Cecilia's traces that he missed noticing that this was his first time entering her room since their wedding.

His heart pounded so heavily in his chest that he felt the sound reverberate through his ears.

Relief flooded him when he glimpsed at her still full wardrobe, but it faded fast when he noticed a sticky note on her dressing table with the words ‘thank you’ sprawled carelessly resting beneath her wedding ring—a ring she never took off even when his mother threatened to cut her fingers if she didn’t stop the wedding.

A loud ringing filled his ears, and dizziness claimed him as the words ‘find her’ threatened to burst through his lips.

“Mr Rochester!”

The butler called from the door, panting as if he had chased him up the steps.

“Why didn’t you call me when she left?”

Dean asked in an oddly still voice.

“Mr Rochester, I-”

“Think before you answer.”

At the sharpness in Dean’s voice, the butler fell silent.

**

Cecilia Dawn-Rochester.

Ugh...my head.

It wasn't my eyes opening that woke me up first, but the pain of my splitting head, the soreness in my throat and the dull ache of my s*x.

Oh my God...

I did it...

I lost my virginity.

I almost squeal, but the moment I raise my hands to cover my mouth, I notice bruises, bite marks and traces of dried blood against my skin.

What the hell happened…how wild was the s*x?

The more I rack my brain, the more my headache doubles in strength.

Forget it; I will think about it later…for now…

My eyes linger on the sleeping man next to me.

Wow! He is still handsome even when I am sober; I thought the alcohol was exaggerating his beauty.

"Mm..."

The sound of ‘Luca’ stirring causes me to flinch.

He might be a professional and used to taking money for s*x, but for me, that whole exchange is cold, and it takes away the fantasy that he actually wanted to have s*x with me.

I may be delusional, but I think I will forget having to leave the money on the end table faster than if we were to have a conversation on how much more extra I should pay him for putting his tongue inside me.

I don’t want to remember that my first time having s*x was paid.

I squeeze my thighs shut to erase the feeling of his fingers inside me and slowly slide from the bed.

My panties are on the floor wet, mixed in with both our fluids, so I instead only reach for my dress and hotel slippers because my feet are still sore.

After dressing up hurriedly, I leave the first envelope in my bag on the end table and walk quietly out of the hotel room.

My body only relaxes when I reach the elevator at the end of the hall; only then does a goofy smile cross my lips.

I'm not a virgin anymore.