Forty
FORTY
LEORA
W e did good—no, we did great .
As soon as I step out onto the rooftop terrace, my mind is blown. It’s exactly how we planned it to be. String lights hang gracefully above, casting a soft, warm glow that dances in the evening breeze. Tables are adorned with fresh flowers and flickering candles, offering intimate nooks for conversation. Plush, cushioned seating arrangements invite guests to linger and savor the moment. The open sky above and the cityscape below make for a breathtaking view as the starlit sky enchants us.
But what makes me the most excited is the big wall that welcomes the guests as they step in. It’s filled with a collage of framed photos of Antoine’s life—a rich tapestry of memories starting from where he grew up in Lebanon, to him standing outside the entrance of his first hotel in France. The photos have already welcomed an audience and they all share smiles as they take it all in. I can’t wait for him to see it.
All the stakeholders seem to be here as well, but I haven’t spotted Antoine yet. I caught a glimpse of Milena and Michel a few minutes ago and, telling by the look they threw my way, both seem to still despise me. It doesn’t matter though; the only thing I’m praying for right now is that all the stakeholders see how beautiful this new hotel is and know how much work Lucas has put into it. Everything he does, he does with passion. He loves these hotels, and he has so many amazing plans. I just hope I haven’t ruined it for him. They have to let him and his uncle stay.
Lucas had to leave before me, and I haven’t spotted him yet. I’m wearing the dress he got me, and it fits like a glove. It’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever worn and when I put on the necklace all I could visualize was Lucas’s whispered promises and the curiosity of what he would do to me. My hand instinctively goes to the necklace and I smile to myself.
"There you are," a soft voice whispers in my ear, sending shivers down my whole body. I quickly turn around to find the most gorgeous man in front of me. "You look beautiful, Leora." It’s hard to describe the way he looks at me, as though he wants to cherish me while still ripping my dress off and devouring me whole.
And I want both—more than anything.
He’s wearing a black tuxedo with a bow tie that matches the color of my dress, and when he smiles at me, the confidence in his gaze and the subtle curve of his lips exude a captivating blend of power and masculine charm. My mouth almost falls open and I think I might be drooling. "You don’t look so bad yourself. If there weren’t so many people around, I think I would go for one of those fantasies of yours," I murmur as I throw my arms around his neck.
"Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Ya Amar ." He kisses me softly. "Because I will be taking you up on that offer." Then he kisses me again, this time not as soft and when we break away he looks back towards the bar, and there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. "Come, there’s someone I would like you to meet." His hand grabs mine and he walks me toward a woman dressed in a black dress that reaches her knees. Who is that?
I wish I never found out, because when she turns around, my stomach drops.
"Agnes, what are you doing here?"
Her eyes widen in surprise. "Did you forget the invitation you sent me? You told me this was your way of apologizing for how you acted when you worked for Momentum Marketing. I couldn’t say no to that or an all-expenses paid trip to France," Agnes says with a leering smile on her lips. I turn to find Lucas looking at me with a smile of his own. There’s a knot forming in my stomach at the sight of her. I don’t understand; why is she here? Why is she saying that I sent her an invitation asking to apologize? Because I didn’t, and I wouldn’t. I still can’t wrap my head around the whole situation. I don’t remember.
"Leora didn’t invite you. I did. Not for Leora to apologize, but rather for you to apologize to her."
I turn to Lucas and his face is stone cold, anger brewing behind his eyes.
"Why would I do such a thing?" Agnes replies.
"I’m happy you asked." He takes his phone from his pocket and shoves it in her face. "If you take a look at this video, you’ll see the papers that Leora misplaced are in the hands of your client."
Why is he showing her this? I experienced this embarrassment once, I don’t need to do it again.
"But do you know what I found odd? If we rewind this video a little bit, we’ll both see that it wasn’t Leora who misplaced the papers." He pauses. "It was you."
Ice washes over my whole body.
It was her ?
I watch, captivated, as Agnes stumbles to a table, holding on to a folder. In the background, people are cheering, and for a brief second, I see Mike and I walk by. We wave to her but she dismisses us.
A few heartbeats pass, and then she walks away, leaving the folder on the table.
The folder I supposedly left behind.
I don’t know what to say or think. All this time, I’ve thought I made that mistake. All this time, I thought I was fired for a reason caused by me, even though I could have sworn it wasn’t me. Now it all makes sense, why I didn’t remember it. How would I, if it never happened? My mind continues to drift, if it was Agnes’s fault, why would she fire me and make me believe I was in the wrong?
"I-I don’t know," she stutters.
"You didn’t think you’d get caught, did you? Now, listen carefully. Unless you want your entire world to unravel, you will personally reach out to every individual you've ever uttered a word about Leora to. Tell them it was all a colossal misunderstanding and that you mistakenly terminated the employment of the best damn worker you ever had." His eyes narrow, and a menacing smile plays on his lips as he leans toward Agnes. "Understand this: I won't allow anyone to tarnish my wife's name. Do you understand? Because if you don’t, this video will find its way to every corner of my network, and you'll find yourself blacklisted from the marketing industry, and any other industry that doesn't involve flipping burgers."
Her face, once smug and alive, is now white as a ghost as she nods hysterically. She starts to turn to get away from us, but Lucas stops her and tsks. "Agnes, you forgot the most important part"—he nods his head toward me—"beg Leora for forgiveness."
She turns to me and speaks so low, I almost can’t hear her. "I’m sorry, Leora."
"No, Agnes, I said beg. On your knees, " Lucas commands.
On shaky legs, she bends down, her knees hitting the marble floor.
"Lucas, this isn’t neces?—"
"Now beg for forgiveness, Agnes," Lucas demands.
I look at him and what I see in front of me is shocking. His eyes are furious and hard; they would make even the strongest bend to his will. His back is completely straight, demanding respect, and that’s what he’ll receive. This is the powerful man I’ve seen glimpses of—the man who is destined to run an empire.
"I’m so sorry, Leora. What I did was wrong."
"Why did you do it?" I whisper in response to the humiliating scene.
"I panicked when I found out I misplaced the papers and when it came out to the board that a customer had found the papers, I knew they would fire me on the spot if they ever found out, so I chose someone else."
"Why me?" I whisper.
"I worked twice as hard as you, yet no one ever praised me as they praised you. No one ever liked me the way they liked you. I never thought the board would actually fire you. I thought they would discipline you a bit and maybe give me some of your accounts, but they wanted you gone. But at least it wasn’t me, because I knew you’d find another job. I mean, look at you now."
That fuels a fire within in.
"But you continued speaking ill of me to anyone who would listen and—" I cut myself off, my voice rising with anger. "You sabotaged my career. You let me believe I made a terrible mistake, and then you proceeded to destroy my reputation. And all because you were jealous? Because you thought I got praise that you deserved? You chose to ruin my life!"
I take a deep breath, struggling to contain the fury building within me. "And you think it's okay? That I should thank you? No, Agnes. I don't owe you any gratitude. I've worked hard for everything I have, and you tried to take it away from me."
"I know what I did was wrong, Leora. I messed up, and I regret it. But you have to understand the pressure I was under."
"It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t justify your actions. But for what it’s worth, I know what I deserve now." I grab Lucas’s arm and he puts his hand over mine.
"That’s all, Agnes. You’re dismissed," he says before seizing my waist, effortlessly spinning me around and locking his intense gaze with mine. He leans in and kisses me right there, in front of Agnes, who remains on her knees, and our assembled guests. He kisses me with such passion and pride, that I almost lose my footing, but I won’t because the hold he has on me is as strong as the tide, pulling me into his embrace with an irresistible force.
When we break away, his eyes look at me with animalistic need and I’m sure mine mirror his.
"Do you still want to recreate one of my fantasies, Leora?" he whispers and I nod, because I do. I want to recreate every single one of them.
"Then let’s go." Without another word, he entwines his fingers with mine, and suddenly, we're in motion, leaving Agnes and the past behind. He strides purposefully, and I can barely keep up, my laughter bubbling out like the giddiness of a schoolgirl. We descend two flights of stairs in a hurried descent, and as we reach the bottom, he swiftly enters a code to unlock a door. It swings open to reveal what appears to be a small office space. He leads the way into a room, gently pushing me inside before closing the door behind us. My eyes take in the space before me. There's an imposing desk with an elegant chair positioned in front of it. Behind the desk, a floor-to-ceiling glass wall offers a captivating view.
"You're breathtaking," he murmurs, his eyes tracing every curve as he circles me like a wolf stalking its prey. He takes a seat on the desk, his eyes locked onto mine, his gaze filled with a hunger that matches my own.
"I love that dress on you."
"Thank you," I respond, feeling a rush of warmth flooding my cheeks.
"Take it off." His voice drops to a husky whisper, and a thrill of anticipation immediately rushes through my body.
I can see the desire in his eyes, feel it in the way he watches me. I want him, too, but I can't resist the urge to be a little bold—to try something new.
I take a step closer, the heat between us almost unbearable. My fingers move to the zipper of my dress, slowly dragging it down as I maintain eye contact with him. The anticipation grows with each inch of exposed skin, and I can see his restraint slipping away.
But I pause, the dress hanging off my shoulders, revealing more of my body yet still leaving much to the imagination. His jaw clenches, and I can tell he's struggling to contain himself.
"What's the matter, Lucas?" I tease, my voice dripping with what I hope is seduction. "Didn’t you say you’d want to rip this dress off my body?"
His eyes burn as he watches me, his breath coming faster. I revel in the control I have over him in this moment, a heady sensation that sends shivers down my spine.
I let the dress slide down my body, letting it pool at my feet, and I stand before him in a set of delicate lingerie that matches the fiery passion in his gaze. The room seems to crackle with electricity as I take slow, deliberate steps toward him.
His hands reach out to touch me, but I dance just out of his reach, enjoying the game we're playing. I want to savor this moment, to make him ache for me even more.
"Come here," he growls, his restraint finally giving way to raw desire. He grabs my waist and pulls me to him, crashing his lips against mine in a searing kiss. The hunger and urgency between us ignite into a blazing fire. Our hands and lips are everywhere, exploring, igniting, and stoking the flames of our desire. The taste of his lips, the feel of his hands on my skin, it's all I've ever yearned for.
He turns us around and sits me down on the desk, a piece of furniture meant for work now transformed into an altar of passion. I arch my back, inviting him closer, and he follows. My fingers reach for his belt and I swiftly undo it, the anticipation building with each passing second. As I slowly unzip his pants, his breath hitches, and he watches me with dark, hungry eyes. With deliberate slowness, I slide his pants down, revealing his desire straining against the fabric of his boxers. I take my time, savoring the moment, and when I finally free him, he lets out a low groan of pleasure, as if he were in pain before. I grab him, and slowly move my hand up and down, my thumb brushing gently over the sensitive tip, eliciting another deep moan from him.
He's completely at my mercy, and it’s driving him wild. I continue my exploration, my touch becoming bolder and more demanding. Every stroke and caress is a symphony of pleasure that we create together.
He arches his back, his hands gripping the edge of the desk as he leans against me, his knuckles turning white. I want him to know just how much I crave him. "I want to taste you," I whisper. His eyes widen in surprise.
His breath hitches at my words, lust burning even hotter in his eyes, but he doesn’t move away so I can climb down. "Please," I respond, my voice filled with need. He moves, turning so he’s leaning against the desk and I smile, a wicked gleam in my eye, my lips trailing a path of fire along his abdomen as I make my way down to the floor. His eagerness is tangible as he watches my every move.
With tantalizing slowness, I reach his throbbing cock, and I give him what he craves. My lips, soft and warm, meet his heated skin, and I take him into my mouth, indulging in his taste and the way he trembles beneath my touch. I moan as I suck and lick the drop of precum that’s leaking from him.
His fingers thread through my hair, a silent encouragement as I continue to pleasure him. The room is filled with the intoxicating sounds of his moans, urging me on.
The sound of a man being comfortable enough to moan and actually make sounds might be the hottest thing ever, and I can feel how it’s making me even wetter, ruining the expensive underwear I’m wearing.
"If you don’t stop, I’m going to come."
Those words compel me to intensify my action even further, but his hand in my hair pulls me away from him. I almost protest when he drags me up so I’m standing leaning against him. "The only place I’m coming is inside of you."
Suddenly, I’m bent over the desk and he’s positioned behind me, my hair wrapped around his fist. With skillful fingers, he teases me, making my breath hitch and my heart race.
Every touch, every caress, sends electric currents of pleasure through my body, and I can't help but press against him in a silent plea. I want him, need him, in ways words can't express.
He kisses his way to my ear, "I want to be inside you, but–"
"But nothing. I need you now."
"I don’t have a condom."
Fuck, we haven’t had this conversation, but I don’t care if we use a condom or not.
"I’m clean and I’m on the pill," I answer, my voice needy.
"I’m clean, too."
I push my ass a little higher. "Then we don’t need a condom."
His grip on my hair tightens, and I can feel his breath on my skin, sending shivers down my spine. His fingers, still slick with my desire, find their way to his mouth as he licks them clean, and I gasp at the vulgar scene.
"You're perfect," he murmurs, his voice husky with need. "Always so ready for me, and so damn sweet." His words wash over me like a caress before his fingers move my underwear to the side, and I sense him against my core. A low, guttural moan escapes my lips as his cock enters me inch by glorious inch. The sensation is electrifying, like a thousand stars igniting in the night sky at the same time.
He moves with primal intensity, each thrust taking us higher and higher, pushing me into the desk. I can feel the tension coiling within me, ready to explode. I lose myself in the sensation of him, in the way he moves, in the delicious friction of our bodies meeting again and again. The room is filled with the sound of our ragged breaths and the slapping of skin against skin. His hands move to my hips as his thrusts grow more ferocious.
"You’re mine," he says as if he’s staking a claim, his voice low and possessive. As if he didn’t already know he’d ruined me for all other men. I turn my head to watch him and I’m met with his dark eyes boring into mine. It's a declaration of ownership, but not in a way that diminishes me. Instead, it's a promise, a reassurance that, in his arms, I'll always be cherished and protected.
"And you’re mine," I reply, my voice filled with the same conviction.
He pulls out of me growling, before he turns me around to lift me up, as he enters me again. Lucas leans in, capturing my lips as he keeps pounding into me.
He sits me down on the desk, so one of his hands can leave my ass before he reaches down between us. His two fingers find my clit, and I don’t need much; I’m so close to coming.
"Leora, " he breathes against my lips, and I know he’s close too
In a moment of pure ecstasy, we shatter together, our bodies convulsing in pleasure.
As we come down from the heights of passion, he holds me close, his strong arms wrapped around me, creating a cocoon of warmth and home. My head rests against his chest, and I can hear the steady rhythm of his heart.
And then he breaks the silence with words that send a jolt of shock through me, making me panic. "I want us to end the agreement."
I try to pull away to create distance, but Lucas doesn’t let me go. His grip tightens, and he holds me firmly against him, as if afraid that I might slip away. Then he speaks, his voice gentle yet resolute, "I don’t want to have an end date with you."
I freeze, my heart pounding in my chest. I turn to look at him, my eyes searching for any sign that he might be joking or playing with my emotions. But all I find in his gaze is sincerity and vulnerability.
"Why?" I manage to whisper, my voice trembling.
He smiles a soft, tender smile that makes my heart ache with longing. "Because you make me feel alive, Leora," he says, his voice filled with emotion. "You make me happier than I've ever been. It’s as though you brought color into my gray life."
His words wash over me like a warm embrace, and I feel tears welling up in my eyes. In that moment, I truly believe that what we have is real. He's not just a passing chapter in my life; he's become a part of my story.
"I think I’m falling in love with you," I blurt out the words that have been haunting me for a long time, not expecting a response.
"I’m falling in love with you, too."