4

Chloe's Perspective:

"What are you doing in here!" Alessio yelled.

I felt a surge of panic as Alessio's glare bore into me, his eyes squinting and his face turning red with anger. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, an unexpected thought crossed my mind, "Beautifully naked," a voice in my head added. I quickly turned away, hoping to wish myself out of this uncomfortable scenario. If only I could magically disappear.

Trapped, I faced the wall as the water continued to pour, lacking the courage to turn off the tap.

The sudden halt of the water marked the moment of truth. Slowly, I turned around, my wet hair dripping, and my uniform clinging to my body. Avoiding direct eye contact, I kept my gaze fixed on the ground.

Alessio had wrapped a towel around his waist, revealing his bare chest and well-defined muscles. His continued glare suggested building anger.

Standing there, hands held together like a scolded schoolchild, I braced myself for whatever punishment awaited me.

"What are you doing?" Alessio repeated, his tone more threatening and demanding.

My brain froze, leaving me unsure of what to do or say. My mind raced through various scenarios, all of them unfavorable. Getting fired seemed inevitable, and Alessio might ruin my already fragile reputation.

"I'm sorry, sir," I finally managed to speak, keeping my head down, aware that my apology lacked conviction. Perhaps I should gather the courage to look at him, hoping to appeal to any better nature he might have.

Then, I recalled the stories Sandra and her friends shared about Alessio's dislike for people making eye contact with him. Was this a trick? I quickly looked up and then back at the floor.

"I'm really sorry, sir. I was instructed not to disturb and to leave before your arrival. When you came, I got scared and hid," I explained, hoping to dissipate some of the confusion.

His anger seemed to shift to confusion. "What am I, some kind of monster that you have to hide from?" he questioned.

"Everyone thinks you are scary, sir," I answered, unintentionally voicing my thoughts. Shaking, I couldn't discern if it was due to fear or the fact that my clothes were drenched.

There was a fleeting moment where I thought I saw him smile. "What were you planning to do, wait until I was asleep?" he quipped sarcastically.

'That was the idea,' I wanted to confess, but I held back.

"So, you couldn't have just left through the door like a normal person," he continued.

Admitting my foolishness, he was entirely correct. Leaving earlier would have spared me the current predicament.

Yet, the direction of our conversation remained unclear. Was he merely prolonging the inevitable firing?

"Please, sir, I'm truly sorry," I pleaded. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen." I continued to stammer.

Alessio sighed, stepped away, and exited the bathroom. I followed him, leaving a trail of water in my wake.

He retrieved his phone from the counter, dialing a number. "Please, sir, don't fire me," I begged.

"Do you realize what you've done? What if this were any other guest? Should I just let you go?" he questioned, highlighting the gravity of my actions.

Once again, he made a valid point. However, my desperation for the job took precedence.

"Please, sir, I assure you nothing like this has ever happened. You can ask anyone—I'm the best employee here, always committed to doing my job to the best of my ability." Tears welled up in my eyes. "My mom recently broke her leg, and they fired her from her job. I have a little sister who depends on me. We're drowning in debt, and I don't know how we'll get out of it." I sobbed.

By now, I was in tears. He stared at me as if I were a stranger baring my soul.

The truth was, I hadn't confided in anyone for a long time. He now knew more about me than most people did.

He held his hands to his temples. I almost forgot he was intoxicated; if he was this rational while drunk, I couldn't fathom how he'd be when sober. In his current state, what were the chances of him forgetting this incident?

"You and your pathetic life are giving me a headache right now," he spoke, holding his hand to his forehead. "I need you to leave right now," he continued.

He let his phone fall.

Did he say he wanted me to leave? He didn't explicitly mention firing me or anything.

No, I must be misinterpreting this. Perhaps he meant that he wanted me to exit and never cross paths with me again. Essentially, I was being terminated.

"Please, sir, don't fire me," I continued to plead.

My tears had mingled with the water streaming from my wet hair.

He sighed, exiting the bedroom, and I followed suit.

I halted when he stopped in the living room. "Do I have to open the door for you to leave?" he sighed.

"Please, sir," I persisted. "Don't fire me," I begged.

"I'm not firing you!" he shouted. "I just want you to get out so I can take a shower without thinking that a crazy woman is probably watching me," he clarified.

A smile broke across my face. I could retain my job; I thought this incident would surely mark the end of my employment, but it wasn't.

He gestured toward the door while I stood there, dumbfounded, staring at him.

Maybe I had completely misjudged him; he wasn't as harsh as I initially believed.

He gripped the door handle, opening it.

The person standing at the door shook me to my core.

Waylen stood there, his hand clenched, glaring at the two of us in anger.

I gawked at him, bewildered.

How did he manage to get in here? How did he bypass all that security? How did he even know my location?

Many things didn't add up. I never thought he was serious when he said he would come here.

Alessio glanced at Waylen as he waited for me to depart.

"I didn't order any room service," Alessio remarked, dismissing Waylen.

"Waylen," I finally uttered.

Waylen stared at me, and I could see the anger intensify in his eyes.

"I knew it was true," Waylen said, eyeing Alessio and me.

"Who are you?" Alessio inquired. "I didn't ask for any unwanted guests," he added.

Waylen continued to stare at us.

He pushed the door wider, letting himself in. Alessio, who was heavily intoxicated, couldn't react quickly enough.

If the previous incident didn't cost me my job, this certainly would.

"Why are you here, Waylen?" I questioned.

I positioned myself in front of Waylen, attempting to grab his arm to guide him out.

He swiftly brushed my hand away.

"You wanted all of this, is this why you left me?" Waylen said. "This is why you left me, for this wealthy guy!" he shouted. "I thought you were different, Chloe. I fought the world for you when everyone said we wouldn't last because I was out of my league," he added in a whisper.

Alessio was bewildered, struggling to keep up in his intoxicated state.

"Nothing is going on here," I replied.

This only fueled Waylen's anger.

"Don't try to fool me!" Waylen yelled. "What? Did you two just get out of the shower now, did you get it on?" he continued.

I looked at myself and noticed that I was drenched. Alessio walking around with a towel around his waist likely made the scene appear very convincing.

"You know, Chloe, when you said you weren't ready, I waited for you. I didn't think it was because you were getting involved with this guy," he said.

"Trust me, if anything had happened between us, her clothes would have been off by now," Alessio interjected.

My jaw dropped in shock.

I'd like to think it was probably just the alcohol talking.

The most unexpected thing occurred next.

Waylen clenched his fist before delivering a punch right to Alessio's face.

Alessio didn't have time to react.

I watched as he fell to the ground, his head hitting the marble floor.

Waylen smirked and relaxed his hand to alleviate the pain in his knuckles.

Alessio lay there on the ground, completely unresponsive.

"You killed him!" I exclaimed.