Page 102 of The Don’s Virgin Obsession

As soon as they left, I lit another blunt. Stupid.

By day six, I stopped keeping track of time completely.

The suite stayed dark most of the day. I sat on the floor near the couch one night, scrolling through old pictures on my phone.

Family. Business launches. Cars. Women.

Sade.

I stopped on her picture longer than the others.

Her smiling at Crown Heights, holding fabric samples, smiling.

I stared at the picture until my eyes started burning.

“You don’t even know what you doing to me.”

I set the phone down after that and leaned my head back against the couch.

By day seven, I was too weak to even get mad at myself anymore. I took another hot shower and sat under the water until it turned cold against my skin. I stayed there anyway.

Afterward, I dragged myself back toward the couch, wrapped in a towel with another blunt in my hand.

I must’ve drifted off.

When I opened my eyes again, somebody was standing in front of me.

BBW figure. Pretty face. Long hair.

Soft perfume floating off her jacket.

I blinked hard, thinking my mind was playing tricks again.

But she didn’t disappear.

She looked real.

Her eyes moved around the room, then at me,

I sat up too fast and rubbed my face.

“Oh my God, Vaughn. Are you okay?” Sade said softly.

I blinked. “What are you doing here? You weren’t supposed to see me like this.”

Sade

“I thought I was checking on my boss. Somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling like that.”

Imade it to the Ritz in twenty minutes at ten in the evening. I valet-parked my car, then went to the front desk. I lied and told them I was his wife, smiling and speaking softly, and they gave me a key. I found the elevator, my heart racing a bit, hoping I didn’t see anything devastating.

I found his room and quickly found out he was a resident. This man was richer than I thought. I found his room at the end of the hall. I took a deep breath before going inside. When I went in, the room was so dark and reeked of smoke.

I didn’t even think you could smoke in hotels, but a nigga like Vaughn could probably do anything they want. I used my light on my phone to find him.

I looked around and found him in a chair by the window, towel around his waist, eyes closed, with a trash can beside him.

I walked over to him. “Oh my God, Vaughn. Are you okay?”