"You're lying." I raise an eyebrow.

Honestly, it would make a whole lot of sense if it was true. This place doesn't look like a hotel room or a suite at all, it looked nothing like what we could afford.

He nods his head to the dresser to my left. "Go ahead, look for yourself."

Hesitantly, I open the top drawer, wary to his stare on my back. Sure enough, the top drawer is full of socks and plain white t-shirts. Shocked I move to the drawer beside it, and slide that one open too. Inside it are piles of boxer briefs and sweat pants. Embarrassed, I almost slam the drawer shut on my fingers.

I spin around to face the owner of this place. My face was red with embarrassment. "Oh, I am so sorry! They must have messed up our rooms, I swear! They said that this was our suite. They even gave us a key," I plead with all my heart. He'll probably press charges against us for breaking and entering. Well, technically we didn't, but he's obviously rich beyond belief. So, guess who's going to win in the court? Yeah that's right, the truckload of money and the team of lawyers.

The amusement is wiped off his face, and replaced with a frown. "Our suite? You're not alone?"

"I'm here with my friends. We just graduated, and we wanted to go on a road trip, in which, New York was first," I rush to explain, but I doubt he even cares.

"And where are they now?" He asks, not taking his eyes off me.

"They went to go sightseeing. We've been here less than an hour. I swear we didn't steal anything or do something fishy." Tears begin to blur my vision, and my words come out rushed and off key.

"Calm down," he says walking closer with softer eyes. "I'll talk to the front desk and have this sorted out. Why don't you gather up your friends stuff right now while I go call downstairs." Surprisingly, he does a good job of soothing me.

I nod my head waiting for him to leave the room. When he doesn't move, a blush creeps up my neck to my face. "I-I uh need to get dressed." I stutter, pointing to my opened bag, behind me.

With a smirk, he nods his head and walks out the door. While I rush to get dressed, I inwardly scream. I can't believe this is happening to me! He's probably going to get us arrested! God, I should have contacted the front desk as soon as I thought something was wrong! But Holden had to tell us to be quiet about it. Stupid Holden! This trip is already sucking. First, my ex-boyfriend joins a trip that I had planned with my friends for years, then we mix up our rooms with some rich dude, who may or may not report to the police about it, and who knows what's going to come next! I swear, I'm going home after this, I swear to God! This is obviously a sign that I need to leave, from God himself.

I dump all my shower supplies back into my bag, not caring to put them in neatly. I need to get out of here as soon as I can! I pick up Sydney and mine's suitcases, and carry them down the stairs, with some difficulty. I put them in front of the front door, then walk through the pent house, trying to find all of our bags. I find Daisy's and Chase's, and bring them next to mine. When I try to find Holden's, I'm stopped in the hall by a door next to me sliding open.

The man walks out from what I can see is an office. He's wearing a dark blue suit jacket, which matches his dark blue suit pants. "Have you got everything?"

"Not yet, just one more friends stuff." I keep walking down the hall with him following close behind. "What did the front desk say?" I ask.

"My employee intended to give my condo to you and your friends. He holds a grudge against me. So, I fired him."

"Wait, your employee? You own this hotel?" I ask, as I turn around in shock.

"And many others around the world. And also a few stadiums in major cities." He says simply, coming towards me, placing his hands on my shoulders and turning me around. As his hands touch my shoulders, I feel sparks and butterflies in my stomach. I quickly compose myself and start walking. We end up in front of a closed door. He stops in front of it, twisting his head around to give me a curious gaze. After a few moments of awkward silence, where we just stare at each other, he asks, "Do you know who I am?"

"Um...no," I tell him, making him raise his brows. "I'm sorry, am I supposed to?"

"How do you not know who I am," he asks incredulously. His eyes are as wide as saucers, letting me drown in their exotic color.

"Are you famous?"

He nods his head. "I've been on magazines, I've done talk shows, I'm at every award ceremony, and my name is everywhere. It's Alexander Stavros but I prefer Xander."

I begin to laugh, not caring that I seem to be in the presence of a celebrity. "Oh that makes sense," I tell him, still chuckling. He gives me a confused look, so I continue, leaving out a few details here and there. I don't want to be humiliated, more than I already am. "I don't watch T.V or read magazines. I've been in college for the past four years, so that's been keeping me pretty busy. I don't have time to waste on following the media. It's not really my thing."

"I graduated a couple years ago from Yale. I would say you have time to indulge yourself a little bit."

"Not when you're relying on a full ride scholarship, you're not," I tell him, before I brush past him and open the door.

I spot Holden's bags on the bed. "I really am sorry about this," I apologize again, walking to the bed.

"It wasn't your fault," he says after a long pause. "But, we will talk about it later." He stays by the door frame, leaning against it causally.

Just when I'm about to ask him what he means, one of Holden's bags fall off the bed when I accidently bump it over. A few things fall out, so I bend down to pick them up. I absentmindedly stuff them back in the back-pack, but stop when I pick up a box of condoms.

My body freezes as I hold the box in my hand. He brought condoms with him? Did he think we were going to get back together and I would sleep with him?

But that shock turns in to anger when I notice that the box has already been opened. I swallow the lump in my throat, and dump the condoms on the floor, starting to hastily count them.

I see the shoes of the man walking towards me, probably confused. He must think I'm insane. First, I yelled at him for being in his own pent-house, and then I started freaking out, in which he had to calm me down. But this, right here, ladies and gentlemen, tops the list.

I'm frantically counting the condoms on the floor in front of him. A sob escapes my mouth when I count nine condoms, when there are supposed to be twelve in the box. The man kneels next to me and puts a hand on my shoulder. I suppose he is trying to comfort me.

"I'm sorry," I sob. "It's just- I'm sorry." I furiously wipe the tears from under my eyes, not wanting to cry in front of him, and for such a jerk.

I feel him leave my side, when I start picking up the condoms and putting them back in the box. I recount each one, just to make sure. Sure enough, there are nine unopened wrappers. I don't even want to think about where the other two are.

Holden told me that he only slept with that one girl, at the party. So, why are there two more condoms missing? He could possibly have put one in his wallet, but what about the other one?

A tissue comes into my line of vision. I look up to see the man holding a box of tissues to me. I nod my head in thanks and grab one. He holds out his other hand to help my up, which I gratefully take.

I blow my nose in the most horrendous way possible, ignoring the fact that the hottest man alive is in front me of, probably finding me pathetic.

All I can think of is the fact that, Holden has been with other girls since we've broken up. A sob comes out again when I think about the possibility.

The man pulls out his phone from an inside pocket. He answers it while keeping his eyes on me the entire time. He most likely thinks that I'm about to explode any second. My breaths finally calm down, for the sake of the man in front of me. I zip up the bag, and hitch it over my shoulder, leaving the box, burning a hole in the ground.

I grab the handle of the rolling suit case with my other hand, and walk out the door with the man following my lead. By the time we reach the front door, he ends the call. 


Blackmailing Aria Original VersionWhere stories live. Discover now