Page 1 of Fateful Exposure

one

Selma

The hotel bar shone with dimmed lighting, casting a warm, golden glow throughout the space. Soft, ambient music drifted through the air, weaving a delicate tapestry of sound that lulled the senses into a state of relaxation. Just the thing I was looking for. A gentle hum of conversation filled the room, creating a soothing backdrop to the symphony of lights and sounds.

I didn't usually pick up men in hotel bars, nor did I go around looking for sex wherever I could find it. But tonight was a night unlike any other.

Tonight, I wanted to forget. Three years of wallowing in self-pity. The betrayal I've experienced at the hands of the very people Itrusted with my life. Three years of no sex. I needed to forget. And I knew just the best way to do that.

The man in front of me was drop-dead gorgeous. Dark and brooding, he gave off a bad-boy vibe that the teenage me would have gone crazy for. Too bad I was twenty-seven and over-confident.

I let a smile stretch upon my lips languidly as I held his gaze, trying not to focus too much on his eyes. He had the most beautiful, rich, mahogany brown eyes, and when he turned to look at me, they changed to a honey-gold, amber color.

I'd never seen eyes so beautiful.

He'd just offered to buy me a drink, but the look in his eyes told me he wanted more than just a drink.

"I was hoping you'd ask." I smiled, turning my profile to him completely. There was no recognition in his eyes as he stared back at me, no doubt because I was wearing a brown wig and makeup with a dark, smoky eyeshadow that would have had my own mother doing a double take before figuring out who I was.

Mystery Man—as I'd chosen to call him for the night—grinned, revealing perfect dentition before gesturing to the bartender, though his gaze never left mine.

"I'll have a Manhattan, and another of whatever the pretty lady's drinking." He lowered his voice and leaned close enoughto whisper, "Though I'll bet she'd look even prettier with her clothes off."

"Wouldn't you like to see that," I purred.

He nodded dramatically. "I'd give my left ball."

"One Manhattan and a vodka spritz. Coming right up," the bartender said.

"So," Mystery Man's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Do you have a name, or can I call you mine?"

Despite myself, I laughed. "Seriously? That's the best you can do?"

Our drinks appeared instantly, causing a momentary pause in our conversation. I threw a “thank you” to the bartender, taking a sip of my vodka spritz through the cute straw dancing around in the glass.

Mystery Man downed his in one go, the sound of the glass hitting the porcelain counter echoing around us. His eyes twinkled as he dropped from his stool to step close to me. I kept my gaze on him as he brushed a knuckle against my cheek. That little contact alone made my knees weak.

"What do you say…come up with me, and I'll show you what I can really do? I'd be happy to show you a good time, if you're looking for one."

Ah. There it is.The catch. Straight to the point. At least he'd forgotten about my name. It was better this way. I would never see him again anyway.

I made a show of sipping my drink as I pretended to think about it. And he had a room too. No doubt he thought he was the one controlling the game here. I almost laughed. I was Selma fucking Volkov. I always controlled the game.

A small voice inside my head pointed out that I hadn't been controlling the game three years ago when my life had fallen apart, but I silenced it. Now was not the time for sad walks down memory lane.

I focused my attention back on the man in front of me. He was handsome, confident, and a real charmer. With a sharp jawline that could probably split glass and high cheekbones that stood proudly on his face, he looked every bit like sin. Plus, something told me he wasn't an ordinary man. There was an air of magnificence around him, and having been around rich people for half my life, I found it easily observable.

Then again, certain telltale signs were hard to miss. His watch was a Rolex Pearlmaster, and I recognized his fur coat from Zed Chenko's 2022 fall collection. Rich and handsome. The best combo a man could have—but especially the kind of man that suited my present needs. A scratcher for my itch.

But I couldn't let him know that I was a goner the second I saw him now, could I?

"Does that line work with all the girls?" I asked.

He chuckled. No, seriously. He had a really nice set of teeth.

I should get his dentist's number.

"Just the gullible ones,” he says. “And it would please me greatly if it works with you. Does it?"

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