Forbidden affair with my fiance's Billionaire uncle

~~Elena~~~

I woke up the next morning and noticed a strange man lying on the bed beside me. Slowly, I raised the blanket, my eyes widening.

What? I slept with a stranger?

The memories of last night came rushing back. I pressed my palm to my lips, remembering the taste of his kiss, the heat of his hands, the way I had surrendered so completely. Shame, fear, and something dangerously close to longing twisted inside me, leaving me breathless. I searched for my phone, but it was nowhere to be found. I quickly reached out for my clothes, only to discover they were torn beyond recognition. Is this man a tiger? How did he rip my clothes like this?

I grabbed his white long-sleeved shirt, which barely covered my butt, and dashed out of the room. At the reception desk, I asked a lady to check if anyone had turned in a phone. She shook her head, and I quickly asked for hers, which she did. Immediately, I dialed Mariana's number—one of the girls from last night and my closest friend.

"Hi, what about my cell phone?" I asked.

"It's here," Mariana replied. "Your uncle has been calling nonstop. I had to tell him you were at my place, but I went out with your phone."

"Thank you," I breathed.

"Not so fast," she continued. "You have to make your way to the engagement party. Your uncle is crazy—he even threatened to cut off your grandmother's medical bills. I thought she was his mother too!"

"Thanks, Mariana. That's a story for another day, but right now I need something to wear."

"Okay. I'll send my driver to you. Just wait."

I handed the phone back to the lady, and she gave me a small nod.

"Thank you very much," I said softly.

While I waited, my eyes caught movement at the top of the staircase, and there he was. The man from last night. He is just too powerful even in the simplest act of descending the stairs, his assistant trailing closely behind like a shadow.

Panic rose in my chest, and without thinking, I pressed myself against the cold marble pillar, hiding from view.

I held my breath, terrified he might notice me… Yet a part of me desperately wished he would; in just a few seconds, they made their way to the exit door.

Not long after, the driver arrived, handing me a bag containing a silver, shimmering gown along with my phone. I quickly asked the receptionist for the ladies' bathroom, which was pointed out to me.

Inside, I caught sight of myself in the mirror—my hair messy, my lips swollen. I was in a total mess. I tried to freshen up, and I noticed a thick substance mixed with blood on my thighs. Oh my God! Shame burned in my chest as I quickly brushed it off, not wanting to think too deeply about what it meant.

After changing into the gown, I stepped out, composed as much as I could manage. The driver opened the door, and I slid into the backseat. Heart racing as I went through the messages my uncle sent.

*******************************

Arriving at the party, I noticed it was full of powerful families from all over Madrid. I walked slowly, scanning the crowd for any familiar faces, until my eyes landed on Mariana, my friend, and her parents, along with other families deep in discussion and a young man standing with them. I didn't move closer; all those families looked down on me. Mariana's family are not excluded.

A few seconds later, Mariana's eyes met mine. She quickly excused herself and walked toward me.

"You aren't even wearing makeup. Let's go to the bathroom," she said, grabbing my hand like a mother guiding her child.

"Why did you guys let me follow a stranger out?" I asked in a low, frustrated tone.

She didn't answer, instead quickening her pace toward the bathroom. Once inside, she checked each stall until she confirmed we were alone, then sighed heavily.

"Elena… Do you know what you've done?" Her sudden fear surprised me.

"What happened?" I asked, trying to steady the heartbeat threatening to burst from my chest. God, I hope no one saw me… The thought clawed at me, sharp and relentless.

She took a deep breath, about to speak, but a sharp knock on the door interrupted her.

"Elena, I know you're in there. You better come out before your uncle cuts your grandmother's medical bills. You can't back out now, unless you want to see her die," my aunt's voice said, cold and terrifying.

Mariana quickly brushed my gold-blonde hair into a center-parted style and rubbed a light pink gloss across my lips.

I quickly made my way out. I met my aunt's gaze. Her eyes narrowed, sharp as blades, and her lips curled into a cold, disdainful hiss. She turned sharply on her heel, her steps quick. I had no choice but to follow, trailing behind her like a shadow. Each click of her heels echoed in my chest, a reminder of how small and powerless I'd become.

Reaching the inside of the party, I noticed my uncle and cousin standing alongside the older man from before and the same lady still holding onto him. I wondered why she was always with him.

Gradually, we drew closer to them. The old man's face lit up.

"Elena, I know you were very stressed; that's why you didn't make it on time. But don't worry, the party won't start without the princess." I forced a smile as I walked closer to him.

"Where is that stubborn son of yours?" he asked the woman holding him.

She scanned the room. "He should be here, Dad."

"Mom, Grandpa, were you looking for me?" a young man said as he approached us with a lady holding his arm. He stood tall, his golden hair catching the light as though it were meant to draw admiration. A smile curved on his lips, confident, practiced, almost charming. But to me, it was rotten. Beneath its shine, I saw only arrogance, and the sight of it twisted my stomach in disgust.

I didn't need to be told that this was the person I was going to marry. I noticed the crowd murmuring around us. Immediately I caught my aunt and cousin sharing a soft, mocking laugh, their eyes glinting with amusement at my discomfort.

This guy isn't even handsome compared to the ones I've rejected, and he's acting all mighty, as if the world revolves around him, I thought as my lips curled in quiet disdain.

My mind, however, kept drifting to the hottie from last night. Geez… The memory hit me hard. Just thinking about him alone made my mouth water. I swallowed hard, trying to steady the sudden heat rising in me.

"I wondered who the heck would bring his whore to his own engagement." The old man said, striking his walking stick hard against the floor.

I wasn't even surprised.

"This marriage is indeed a transaction, Grandpa," he drawled, his voice smooth but laced with mockery.

"Oh, wow… my fiancée," he added as he stepped closer. Instinctively, I stepped back a little.

"You look like Cinderella," he smirked, tilting his head. "And I suppose that makes me the prince, doesn't it?" His tone was so sarcastic it made the words sting.

The woman he came with let out a soft, knowing chuckle as though the joke were funny.

He circled me slowly, his eyes raking over me from head to toe. It felt less like admiration and more like a predator studying its prey. Finally, his lips curled into a wicked smile.

"With curves like these," he murmured, leaning just close enough to make my skin crawl, "I have a feeling you would be interesting in bed."

"You bastard!" Grandpa's voice thundered, his face flushed with shame and fury. His hands trembled as he struggled to keep his composure, the weight of humiliation heavy in his eyes.

I turned my gaze toward my uncle, searching for even a flicker of remorse. Instead, he shoved his hands into his pockets quickly, his jaw tightening as if to mask his guilt behind arrogance.

Just in a second.

A heavy silence swallowed the room, thick enough to make every breath feel louder than it should. Then, the sound of polished shoes echoed across the marble floor. Each step carried a weight that demanded attention.

Slowly, almost against my will, I turned my head. And there he was.

The hottie from last night.