Chapter 2. Betrayal

The shock and heartbreak that washed over Carlos were almost suffocating as he cried out her name in disbelief. It was her—his girlfriend, Zama, the love of his life, her face marred by traces of the unthinkable act she had just committed. He felt as though a blade had pierced his chest, slicing through the trust and love that had bound them together.

Her once-clear eyes were now blurred and clouded, a stark contrast to the vibrant woman he knew. She appeared disoriented, her flushed face and smeared makeup giving her the appearance of a dr*g addict caught in the throes of addiction.

Carlos’s initial reaction was one of profound shock and disbelief. He watched helplessly as she tried to cover her exposed body, her face contorted with shame and confusion. His mind raced, searching for answers, for some semblance of understanding in this surreal nightmare.

Before he could muster the words to explain or confront her, Frank’s voice resonated through the room.

“Surprised?” he rose from his seated position, wrapping his arms possessively around Zama’s waist. “Do not worry, my dear Zama, I was the one who brought him here. He doesn’t deserve such a beauty.” It turned out that it was his idea to summon Carlos there without Zama’s knowledge, and his intentions became chillingly clear.

Seeing that all this was planned, Zama could no longer play guilty or let herself fall at Carlos’s knees. Her demeanor underwent a swift transformation. Her expression shifted from shame to anger, and she directed her frustration and blame squarely at Carlos with a resounding slap across his face. Carlos stood still, letting the sting from the slap bite into his skin. That pain meant nothing to him, but the pain of the situation he was in shattered him.

“Why did you stalk me all the way here?” she accused him, her voice laced with venomous anger.

Carlos was taken aback by her sudden aggression, his cheek still stinging from the impact of her slap. Instead, he said calmly, “I have been working here for the past few months. How could I have been stalking you?”

Zama hated the fact that he still spoke calmly to her and with so much love. She didn’t understand why Carlos could be so pure and innocent even at the sight of her with another man.

But deep down, Carlos struggled to find words to defend himself and make sense of the nightmare that had unfolded before him. He desperately sought answers, but Zama’s loyalty had shifted, and her allegiance now lay firmly with the man who held her in his possessive embrace—Frank. This troubled him deeply as he struggled to hide the tears and his cracking voice.

Suddenly, Frank planted a kiss on her neck, moving slowly from her neck to her cheeks and then to the corner of her lips. Zama enjoyed every bit of this. She closed her eyes, clearly reveling in the act.

“How about I fuck you all night? You’ve certainly proved yourself to be a worthy bed opponent with your tongue earlier,” Frank said, his voice seductive, his eyes darkened with desire.

Carlos immediately turned his face away, not wanting to watch anymore. It was a gut-wrenching sight to him, and he could bear it no more. Zama lavished Frank with flattery and adoration. Carlos’s anger and heartbreak intensified. He questioned her loyalty, unable to comprehend the depths to which she had fallen just for money and luxury.

“Why stoop so low, Zama? Wasn’t my love for you enough?” he asked, but his attempts to confront her were met with a barrage of insults and humiliation.

“Enough? You can barely feed yourself or even take care of yourself,” she spat. “How many clothes do you wear in a week, hon? You are completely useless.”

As she said this, Carlos lowered his head, unable to comprehend why she would insult him like this. His mouth was sealed with shock. It would be useless to defend himself anyway, so why bother explaining that all the money he ever had was used on her and nothing else, not even himself? He would make sure she was comfortable and happy before caring for himself. Her insult only deepened his pain.

She taunted him for his poverty, belittling him and highlighting the financial burden he had incurred, all because of her insatiable desires. She compared him unfavorably to the wealthy man who had orchestrated this cruel charade, boasting of the man’s riches and influence, saying that she would rather stay with him and be blessed with riches than continue to let Carlos drag around her like a dog begging for her attention.

Hearing all this, Carlos’s hands clenched so tightly that blood began to gush out from where his fingernails had pierced his skin, leaving a mark.

Frank, reveling in his control over the situation, suddenly exposed Zama’s body in a degrading attempt to humiliate Carlos further. The shock of the moment reverberated through Carlos’s core, leaving him shattered and consumed by a sense of betrayal and despair.

He watched helplessly as Frank bit and sucked on her neck and nipples. He looked away, his legs trembling. His heart shattered. Then he turned back to look Zama straight in the eye.

Carlos had sacrificed nearly everything he had for her, pouring his heart and soul into their relationship, and yet, he hadn’t even received a kiss in return. For money, she had allowed herself to be manipulated and degraded, becoming little more than a puppet in the hands of a wealthy playboy.

Zama was enjoying the sweet pleasure as Frank sucked on her nipples, moaning slightly. But as her eyes fell on Carlos and the way he looked at her, shivers ran down her spine.

It wasn’t a look of anger, but a look of pity. He pitied the person she had become, which only made her more annoyed. In defense, she said, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Carlos said nothing.

“You never wanted to sleep with me anyway. You only kissed me. Are you jealous that someone else is doing as he pleases with every part of my body? You had me, but never once had sex with me or even thought about it.”

Hearing this, Frank halted his movements, his eyes on Carlos. “Seriously? You had such a beauty and never touched her? What a boring man.”

Seeing his silence, Frank clicked his tongue. “We could make it a threesome then. Have a taste of her,” he said, but was only answered with silence.

Carlos couldn’t speak. This was because he had cherished Zama like a rare treasure. He kept her and never thought of defiling her. She was a gem to him, and he never thought about sleeping with her to fulfill his desires—he loved her that much. Every time their tender kiss started to arouse him, he would back away, not making any further advances.

As his fury and grief surged, Carlos couldn’t bear the humiliation any longer. He lunged at the playboy in a desperate attempt to confront him and protect his girlfriend from further degradation. But he was quickly thwarted by Frank’s imposing guards, who overpowered Carlos with ease.

They subjected him to a brutal beating, their blows landing with merciless force. Carlos was tossed aside like a ragdoll, his body battered and bruised, unable to stand under the weight of his injuries. It was a humiliating defeat, a stark reminder of his powerlessness in the face of wealth and influence. Zama couldn’t help but feel a slight concern for him, but she had to please the wealthy man. She still stood in his embrace as Frank continued to play with her body.

“Don’t touch her!” Carlos yelled.

Frank’s laughter echoed in the room as he cruelly stepped on Carlos’s face, a final act of degradation. Zama was troubled that Carlos still stood up for her, even though she had betrayed him. Carlos was indeed a noble man.

With a mocking smile, Frank informed Carlos that he was the owner of the bar and that he was summarily fired from his job as a waiter. That job was Carlos’s only form of income; he had just lost everything.

Frank held Zama tightly and headed for the door. “Make sure you never set foot here again,” he said, departing with his guards, leaving Carlos seething with a burning desire for revenge.

As they disappeared into the night, Carlos’s emotions boiled over, a searing mixture of anger, betrayal, and heartbreak.

Just as he was on the brink of despair, a message notification on his phone pierced through the darkness. With trembling hands, he opened it, his eyes widening in disbelief. Ten billion dollars had been transferred into his bank account, a staggering sum that held the promise of retribution and a chance to turn the tables on those who had wronged him.