FOUR.

Preston.

I am never reckless, Father may argue stupidity but never recklessness. But as I look down at my phone in my hand, I fear I am about to tick off another disapproving character by Father’s book.

I read the email I have been looking at for that past thirty minutes again; Decon hotel, Rm141. 7pm. DO NOT BE LATE. The email delivered three hours ago but Isabelle has neither shown up nor responded to my email.

Locking my phone screen, I toss the phone to the bed and run my palms down my face. I imagined this night going differently, with Isabelle tangled in my sheet, my cum down her throat as I finger her but I have been left disappointed.

Did she really think I’d not stay true to my word work and not expose her if she failed to comply?

Quickly, I pick up my phone and type frantically on my keyboard. When I’m done, I read my message before shooting it off.

In my hands is the tool that could destroy you and your entire future, do you think it is wise to disobey me?

Isabelle stayed on my mind after our encounter on Saturday -I had genuinely believed she was a student who wanted to lie her way out of trouble. On Sunday, the thought of demanding for all of the student information who fits the description I have on her from Director Morgan crossed my mind but I brushed it off on a second thought.

She wasn’t worth the hassle, I thought. But as she walked into the lecture hall on Monday morning, her skirt cupping her ass and inviting me to take her from behind, I knew I would give anything to have one more night with her, but with more fucking this time.

I stare at my screen for a few more seconds waiting for her response and when it didn’t come, I toss my phone on the bed.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I yell into my palms. Taking a deep breath, I find my phone and dial a number. I had booked this room with a different thing in mind, and it was going to happen, either in this room or not.

“Ellis,” I greet the person on the other end and swallow thickly when I hear his awful chuckle.

“To what do I owe this call by this time of the night? Have you gotten into any trouble of recent?”

I ignore his questions and begin. “How fast can you deliver a simple tracking job? I am having an important conversation with someone and I need an address to follow it up duly.”

“Don’t you think they would have given you their address if they wanted you to have it?”

“Isabelle Walsh.” I say, ignoring his taunts. I hear keyboard clacking on his end and his chuckle follows.

“Works at Pinnacle University, Department of Visual Communication.” He laughs and I clench my jaw. I am tempted to end this call and phone Keffa for this information but decide against it.

Ellis may be an asshole but I am certain his lips would always be sealed whatever the outcome. Not like Keffa would talk but he would ask a lot of questions that might draw a lot of attention.

I don’t know what I am doing with Isabelle yet and until I figure it out, I’d like to keep this as quiet as I can.

“Are you trying to bully your lecturer into giving you grades you don’t deserve? You don’t want Daddy to be disappointed?”

“Fuck you, Ellis.” Ellis graduated Salutatorian from our department two years ago but decided that hacking and doing shady jobs for shady people was far more better then finding a legal job with his certificate.

My phone pings and I see an encrypted link at the notification bar. “Quick advice, keep my name out of your mouth whenever whatever shit you are up to blows up.”

“Unsolicited. What do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry yourself, baby Du Pont, I will come for what I am owed one day.” Without waiting for a response, he ends the call.

Immediately the call ends, I gather my things and head for the door as I click on the link.

Isabelle’s driver’s license and passport pops up on the screen. I jump into my car and key in the address on the map, I am forty-five minutes away from town and her location but I don’t worry about that as I wake my engine and start driving to her.

About thirty minutes later, I pack two blocks away from her house and walk up the block. The lights in her house were all off, save from one dim light in a room upstairs which I assume is her room.

I see flower pots lined on both sides of her entrance and instinctively, I begin searching them for a key under the pots. A smile tugs on my lips as I shake my head when I find it under one of the pots.

How reckless, I thought. Did she really think she was safe to keep her key within everyone’s reach? Shaking my head again, I open the door and slip inside the house.

I hear the showers running when I slip into the room. Her room holds character, just like her; pretty but feisty. I run my fingers on her vanity, pick up some make up and keep them back. I pick up another make up, it is a lipstick, the pink one she was putting on Saturday and this morning. I sniff it -cherry- and put it into my pocket.

The shower turns off, cutting short my exploration. Quickly but quietly, I walk to her bed, lift up the duvet, slip under it and wait with a bright smile on my face.

Just then, with a towel tied around her chest, Isabelle walks out of the bathroom and moves to her dressing table, bends behind the chair and watches herself in the mirror as she dries her hair, giving me a good view of her behind.

“I like the view of that ass, you think you could bend a little more?”

“Holy macarons!” Isabelle clutches her towel to her chest and peers down at me and I see her shoulders relax a little when she recognizes me. “What on earth are you doing here? How did you even get here?”

I cross my legs and arms, my back resting against the headboard. “ I am sorry for assuming you like that hotel, do you dislike hotels generally or do you have a thing against that hotel in particular? I should have made sure before booking a room. Or was it that you were not comfortable with being seen with me in a hotel. Of course, I should have thought about that too. I am truly sorry, Isabelle. But it doesn’t matter now, I am here now so, where do we begin?”