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2.16% Unexpected Romance: Love $ Hustle / Chapter 6: Jessica

Capítulo 6: Jessica

Delilah trudged into her penthouse, her heels clicking softly against the polished marble floor.

The penthouse was a testament to her successful career and hustle. Sleek modern furniture, abstract art pieces on the walls, and large windows offering a breathtaking view of the city skyline.

Her living space which usually gave her joy, did little to calm her racing mind. Not when she felt like she was trapped in a nightmare she couldn't wake up from.

As she headed towards her bedroom, the door to the guest room opened, and her younger sister, Jessica, stepped out, wearing a soft, oversized sweater and leggings, her bare feet padding quietly on the floor.

One look at Jessica's appearance, and Delilah could tell that she had spent the night weeping as usual. Her green eyes which were identical to hers, were puffy and her long blond hair was tousled.

"Where have you been, D?" Jessica's voice was a mixture of relief and concern. "I tried calling you all night. I was worried sick."

Delilah sighed, avoiding her sister's gaze. She was ashamed of herself for adding to her sister's troubles when she was supposed to be comforting her younger sister who was still mourning the loss of her husband.

"I'm sorry, Jess. I don't think I have a good enough explanation for you. You don't look so good," Delilah said, choosing to focus on her sister rather than herself.

"You could have at least texted. I was worried something had happened to you." Jessica said, not wanting Delilah to change the subject so easily.

Delilah felt a pang of guilt, "I know, and I'm sorry, Jess. Trust me, I had the craziest morning of my life, else I would have remembered to check in with you. I just need to freshen up and think about my life for a bit. Can we talk later?"

Jessica's expression softened, and she nodded reluctantly, sensing the turmoil her sister was in. "Okay, but are you fine? Did something happen?" Jessica asked, looking her over.

"Physically, I'm okay. I just need to figure some stuff out," Delilah said and Jessica sighed.

"I'm here when you're ready to talk."

"Thanks, Jess." Delilah managed a small smile, "And like I said, you don't look so good."

"I'm fine. Worry about yourself," Jessica said, and Delilah sighed deeply before heading to her bedroom.

As she walked through the door, the room's familiarity offered a brief moment of solace. The king-sized bed with its plush comforter, the soft lighting from the bedside lamps, and the faint smell of her favorite perfume all served as a reminder of her carefully constructed life.

She dropped her purse and phone on the dresser, and slipped off her shoes before making her way to the en-suite bathroom.

Turning on the shower, she let the steam fill the room. She undressed slowly, feeling the weight of the morning's events pressing down on her.

Naked, she stood in front of the mirror staring at her reflection in the mirror which was gradually becoming covered by steam.

She touched her body, and turned around to see if there were any signs that she had sex the night before, but there was none. Down there didn't feel like any activity had taken place either, she mused.

She also remembered that she had woken up still completely dressed, that meant that Blake did not have sex with her. The thought that he had not touched her in her drunken state, relieved her a great deal.

"Maybe he isn't completely hopeless, after all," she muttered to herself as she went to stand under the shower.

The hot water cascaded over her body, washing away the remnants of her night out and the confusion that still lingered.

Was it possible that she had been careless enough to take alcohol when she had gone to the club for such an important mission? Had she been drugged?

She closed her eyes, trying to piece together the fragments of her memory, but it was like trying to catch smoke with her bare hands.

When she finally emerged from the shower, she wrapped herself in a fluffy towel and stepped out of the steam-filled bathroom.

Standing in front of her, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were wide with anxiety, and her usually composed demeanor was shattered. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

She picked up her phone which she was yet to check since she woke up that morning, and she saw all the missed calls from both Jessica and Mark.

Immediately she dialed Mark's line, "Hey, where have you been, D? I was just thinking of sending out a search party," Mark said the moment he received her call.

"I'm sorry. I've been… occupied. I need you to do me a quick favor, Mark."

"Anything. Tell me," Mark urged her.

"I need you to look into someone. His name is Blake. Blake Davies," she said, remembering the name she had seen on the certificate.

"Blake Davies. Who is he? I thought our focus is supposed to be on Hunter Quinn for the time being?"

"Yeah. Our focus is still on Hunter. But I need a quick but thorough background search on this Blake guy. Can you do that for me?" Delilah asked impatiently.

"Sure. I will look into it and get back to you. So, how did last night go? Were you able to sniff out the elusive Hunter Quinn?" Mark asked curiously.

Too embarrassed to tell him that she couldn't remember what had happened the night before and had ended up married to a stranger, Delilah forced a laugh, "He wouldn't have the reputation he has if I found him out so easily, would he? I will be needing more information."

Mark chuckled, "I guess you're right. Alright. I will do a little more digging. And I will get back to you on the Blake guy…"

"Can I get feedback on this Blake guy in twenty-four hours?" She asked hopefully.

"Twenty-four hours? C'mon, D. That's not enough time…"

"If it wasn't important I wouldn't ask you for this. I know if anyone can do it, you can do it. Help me find out who he is that's all I'm asking," Delilah pleaded.

"Alright. I will see what I can do," Mark said before hanging up.

Delilah desperately hoped that Mark would find something on Blake. She needed something that would enable her pull out of her arrangement with him.

She desperately wanted to be able to shut the door in his face when he shows up tomorrow.


Capítulo 7: Two Years Ago

By the time Hunter and Damon arrived at Hunter's sprawling mansion, Fred was already waiting by the door. He was a meticulous young man, always punctual and impeccably dressed.

Hunter greeted him with a nod and led the way inside.

"Fred, I need someone to be Hunter Quinn for the next six months," Hunter said as they entered the grand foyer. The marble floors and crystal chandeliers contrasted sharply with his current attire.

Fred's brow furrowed slightly. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean, sir," Fred said as he followed Hunter into the spacious living room.

Before Hunter could respond, Damon interjected, "Why involve a stranger? Why not Fred himself? He knows you best."

Hunter shook his head. "Too risky. Anyone who knows me might recognize him and call out to him in public when he's with her. We need someone neutral, someone who can blend in."

Damon nodded thoughtfully. "You have a point. I'd offer myself if I wasn't so popular," Damon said and Hunter shook his head.

"And what happens if you fall in love with my wife? I'd have to kill you. I don't want to," Hunter said and Damon laughed, while Fred kept looking from one to the other in confusion.

"You know about my interest in Delilah Sterling," Hunter said as he sat down.

Fred gave him a curt nod. "Yes, sir."

"You've also heard about her interest in me," he said, and once again Fred nodded.

"I'm married to her now. But not as Hunter. Since she doesn't know what Hunter looks like, I want someone else to be Hunter for a while. That will be only when she is in the picture. I'd handle every thing else myself. Can you find someone suitable?" Hunter asked, and Fred gave him a nod.

"Yes, I can. Give me a few hours," he said, and Hunter clapped him on the shoulder.

"Perfect. Make sure whoever you bring understands the role. And most importantly, make sure he is a gentleman enough and knows how to keep his hands to himself, else he just might lose his hands," Hunter said with a smile that didn't touch his eyes.

As Fred left to make arrangements, Hunter excused himself to go freshen up while and Damon went to the bar pour himself a glass of wine.

Inside his bedroom, Hunter glanced at his phone's screen, and sighed when he saw the number of missed calls from his grandmother.

Hesitantly he dialed her number and it didn't take long for the call to connect, "You rascal! If I were dying would you be calling now?" She scolded.

"If you were dying, you'd need a doctor not me. Besides, you have the nurses at home to watch over you. Had it been an emergency they would have called me," Hunter said easily.

"You rascal. Does that mean you deliberately ignored my calls because you knew it wasn't an emergency?" The old lady asked, and Hunter chuckled.

"Precisely. I knew you were going to nag, and I didn't want to hear it."

"Sorry to disappoint you, I didn't call to nag. I want you home for dinner tomorrow," she said and Hunter shook his head.

"I'm sorry, that won't be possibl…"

"Make it possible. Be here by 6 PM tomorrow," she said and hung up before he could argue further.

She was always nagging and hanging up without letting him say his piece, he mused with a sigh as he threw his phone on the bed.

Not wanting to keep Damon waiting for too long, he quickly freshened up, and when he was done he returned to join Damon again.

When he got there, he saw Damon sipping from a glass of whiskey, and when Damon saw him, he raised his glass in a toast. "To the game, and to always keeping it interesting," he said, and Hunter chuckled.

"When we first saw her, I never would have imagined things would get here," Hunter said as he picked up the glass of whiskey Damon had reserved for him.

"Me neither," Damon said, laughing as they both flashed back to the first time they met Delilah.

Although it had been two years since they first saw her, the image was as clear as if it had happened yesterday.

Two Years Ago

Hunter and Damon strolled into the upscale restaurant for a lunch meeting. The establishment was known for its exclusivity and fine dining, a place where the city's elite came to unwind and discuss business.

The maître d' greeted them warmly and led them to their table. As they walked through the dining area, Hunter's attention was suddenly drawn to a commotion near the center of the room.

There, on her knees, was a young woman crying profusely. Her sobs were loud enough to catch the attention of almost everyone in the restaurant. She was pleading with an older woman, her hands clasped together in desperation. "Please, I beg you! I love Richie more than anything in this world. Please don't do this to me!"

The older woman's response was chilling. Without a word, she picked up a glass of water and poured it over the girl's head as she looked down at her with cold disdain.

The scene was heart-wrenching, and Hunter felt a pang of compassion for the young woman who looked utterly devastated, with tears streaming down her cheeks.

Hunter's jaw clenched, and he took a step forward, ready to intervene. But Damon's hand on his arm stopped him. "Hunter, don't. We don't know what's going on."

Reluctantly, Hunter allowed himself to be guided to their table, which was uncomfortably close to where the drama was unfolding.

He couldn't take his eyes off the young woman, feeling a mix of anger and pity. What kind of man would allow his girlfriend to endure such humiliation?

His thoughts were interrupted when the older woman reached into her purse and pulled out a checkbook. She scribbled something quickly and handed the check to the young woman.

"Here. Take this and disappear. I don't want you anywhere around him ever again."

Hunter watched as the girl's tears stopped immediately, and she reached for the cheque, glanced at it, and then looked up at the older woman with a surprising steadiness.

Both he and Damon watched with bated breath as they waited for her to tear up the cheque, and walk away, but what she said next stunned them.

"Isn't this amount a little too small? You should triple it if you're serious," she said, her voice suddenly calm.

Hunter's eyes widened in disbelief while Damon's jaw hung low. The transformation was startling.

"And I prefer you to transfer the money to my account right now. I don't trust Cheques. I can promise that Richie won't ever see me or hear from me again if you do it right now."

They watched as she rattled off her account number, and the older woman, with a final look of contempt, pulled out her phone and completed the transfer.

The moment the transaction was confirmed, the older woman turned on her heel and left the restaurant.

As soon as she was gone, the young woman stood up, her demeanor completely changed. She was no longer the picture of despair but looked almost triumphant. She laughed softly, picked up a paper napkin, and began dabbing the water off her face.

Hunter and Damon exchanged gobsmacked looks. "Did we just witness what I think we did?" Damon asked, his voice low with disbelief.

Hunter nodded slowly, still trying to process what he had seen. "She was playing her," he said, almost to himself. "The whole time."

They watched as the young woman, now dry and composed, walked to a nearby mirror on the wall to check her appearance.

She caught Hunter's eye in the reflection and gave him a small, enigmatic smile before walking out of the restaurant.

Hunter shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips as he remembered that moment. That was the day Delilah Sterling had first entered his world, leaving a lasting impression.


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