Page 8 of My Billionaire Neighbor's Secret

So far, so good. There were some points for improvement, but everything was generally running smoothly. High standards were being maintained too.

I was almost done. I was just making my rounds in the swimming pool area, enjoying the al fresco breeze when a familiar voice made me stop in my tracks.

It was the same voice that had scolded me so many times in the past. It was the same voice I kept hearing as I endured physical abuse at the hands of my foster parents.

My eyes turned toward an old woman who was speaking harshly with one of the staff members, complaining about something.

I felt myself beginning to tremble. I would recognize that voice and that face anywhere, even after so many years.

My chest was throbbing hard. My blood turned cold. My hands were clammy.

Your past is over, Carter. She is gone from your life forever. You are safe now! You have the power to control your life now.

The words echoed in my ears, making me gain control of the rising negative emotions that were being summoned from within me. I took a deep breath. Then another.

The staff kept apologizing, but the woman kept shouting at her, not caring about the presence of other people.

It reminded me of how she would also make me feel so scared and degraded as an adolescent.

“Mrs. Anita Jones,” I said firmly as I confidently approached them. Inside I was still a little rattled, but I just kept on thinking that things were much different now. I owned this hotel, and she was just being a nuisance.

When I mentioned her name, she stopped and turned to me. I’m not sure if she recognized my voice. She looked shocked, but it could be because I called her by name.

“May I know what the problem is?” I asked without any feelings.

She put her hands on her waist. “And who the hell do you think you are?”

“My name is Carter Croft and I own this hotel.” That was my simple answer. I usually did not divulge this type of information, but the situation called for it. My last name was different, so I have no idea if she would even think this was the little Carter she and her husband used to lock in the dark bathroom for hours and beat up when they were angry.

“Well, Mr. Croft, you better train your staff well,” she said in a haughty voice. I hated that tone of hers. “This girl doesn’t have manners. She insisted that I pay for the swimming pool fees at once when I’m not even done yet.”

“I apologize if you feel that way, but she is just following protocol and doing her job,” I said matter-of-factly. “If you insist on not following our rules, Mrs. Jones, then you can just leave and continue your enjoyment elsewhere.”

She was bowled over and her eyes widened. She was about to shout at me, perhaps, but I didn’t give a damn.

“How dare you talk to me that way! And how do you even know my name?!” she exclaimed.

“You’ve been doing this for years, trying to pose for a socialite, maxing out credit cards, using hotel facilities and then escaping the fees…” I said. I could feel the anger and pain swirling in my chest, but I tried not to let it show on my face.

She was dumbfounded and was speechless for a while.

“And when you get into trouble, you take it out on little Carter. And when you and your husband fight, it’s the little boy that ends up getting hurt.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” she shouted, making some guests look and pay attention.

I kept my calm and gave her a cold smile. “That Carter is now the owner of this hotel and many more. I changed my family name, though, in order to be free of any connection with you and your husband. So you may now leave before I ask the guards to escort you.”

Suddenly, she knew. There was something that changed in the way she was looking at me. And for the first time in my life, I saw my abuser looking confused and frightened. It gave me great satisfaction.

I thought she would put up a fight, but she simply straightened her shoulders, grabbed her things, and walked away.

I heaved a sigh of relief after she left. Then I went back to my work as if nothing had happened.

When I got back to the lobby, I was just about to leave when I saw my next-door neighbor breezing through the door. For a moment, I was mesmerized. I remembered how she’d looked when she’d opened her door wearing only a red bikini underneath an open robe. Her sexy curves, well-defined abs, and long, lean legs immediately caught my attention then. But, of course, I did not let on.

With her face flushed from the alcohol and her long hair dripping wet, she had looked so alluring and gorgeous that I had felt a sharp and strong wave of attraction toward her.

Now she was like a different person, wearing an outfit similar to that night she had moved in. Today she had on a matching blazer and skirt ensemble in pure white, along with a printed pastel scarf. She looked very respectable and professional. My curiosity was piqued, so I observed her for a while from a distance.

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