Betrayed By Her Fiance

Introduced

ILIANA'S POV

—

I lay back on one of the pool chairs, the moonlight cascading down on me, my skin littered with goosebumps as I pull the towel over my shoulder.

Everyone has gone to sleep, drunk and happy, and here I am, lying next to the pool on a lounging chair that only has one thin cushion layered over the hard plastic.

The lights around the boat are on, lighting up the entire pool area, but it's quiet except for the sound of the water splashing against the boat.

It's comforting, the sound of the waves crashing, it's soothing, and the pain that's crushing my heart is less, but even though it's less, it still hurts.

I huff, air blowing out of my nose as I whip around, grunting as I try to lay comfortably.

The air gets thinner, and I start to heave as tears start to swell in my eyes.

No, don't cry.

Don't.

Please don't—

It's like every nerve in my body explodes, my chest tightening and I curl into a ball as the crippling pain crashes into me, reality smacking me down with a hammer.

All the years, all the love— everything is emerged under the water, sinking to the very depths of the ocean, disappearing.

What really hurts is knowing that it's there, what it was and how great it was, and Nolan screwed it all up for a bartender, for one night of pleasure.

I forcefully push my head back into the jacket I rolled up for a pillow, my bones stiff with anger, sadness and pain.

With my eyes squeezed shut, I notice when a shadow blacks out the lights. Startled, my eyes fly open, my breath hitching in my throat and right above me, staring down at me with narrowed eyes, is that stranger from the room next door.

"Pathetic," he scoffs, the flick of the flame igniting above my face lights up his features, highlighting his sharp jaw and cheekbones.

He straightens his back as his cigarette lights up, and I sit upright, twisting my neck to face him. "What the hell are you doing?" I snap.

He's everywhere.

"Smoking," his eyebrows hop, and he turns on his heel, walking to the railing. He props his foot up on the lowest bar, his elbows resting on the top one, haunched over, he smokes with no care in the world.

If only I were as careless as he was.

My shoulders raise and fall along with my chest, my eyes focused on his back, "You didn't need to come out here to smoke," I point out.

There's no reason for him to walk all the way over here.

He turns his head, glancing over his shoulder at me, "Are you insinuating that I came here for you?" he snorts, turning and he rests back against the railing.

"Well—", "No, I'm on this cruise for the ocean, not—" his eyes drag down the length of me, "—You," his lips twitch up in disgust, his gaze meeting mine.

“Plus, how should I have known that you were squatting out here anyway?”

Frozen in place, my mouth falls open, "I— I know you’re here for everything except me," I stutter, gulping down the lump in my throat.

My cheeks heat up in embarrassment, but his eyes are so enticing, luring me in, making it feel nearly impossible to look away from him, like I'm going to miss something if I do.

"Then yes, I did need to come out here to smoke," his tone falls flat, and he turns his back toward me, looking out over the ocean that's lit up by the moonlight.

Pausing, I inhale a deep breath, padding over to him, I stop beside him, mirroring his stance.

His head pivots toward me, his eyebrows raising, "Now what the hell are you doing?" he breaths, sounding exhausted , repeating the words I spat at him.

Rolling my eyes, I scoff, staring up at him before averting my gaze toward the ocean, "I'm Iliana," his entire demeanor changes, the smug cocky expression wiped clean off his face, replaced with a blank one.

His eyes grow larger and larger, his head slowly tilting, curiosity glistening in his eyes.

His plump lips part, and his chest raises as he inhales a breath. His lips clamp shut, his chin tucking as he tilts his head down.

Face to face, his head slowly tilts the other way, and an electric shocks pulses through me, my palms becoming sweaty.

Fear.

My heart races, and my tongue presses to the roof of my mouth. Gulping down the rock lodged in my throat, my jaw clenches, "You shouldn't have—" his lips clamp shut, his face scrunching up as he tries to hold back his outburst.

"Shouldn't have what?" My eyebrows draw together, "I have to go," his voice sharp, his tone cold and his eyes— black, like the sky on a cloudy night.

He brushes past me, walking into the darkness of the shadows, disappearing into the night and in a blink of an eye, he's completely gone. Baffled, my eyes flick around the dark, hoping to see some sort of movement, to know he's there, to see him, but there's nothing, no one except for the darkness and a few lights. I stride back over to the chair, sitting down and put the jacket on. "Unbelievable," I huff, lying back down.

He’s so weird.

I need to sleep, tomorrow is going to be a long day, a very long day, and no place to rest.

Waking up to cold air, my eyes ping open as I sit upright, afraid it might rain, but to my shocking surprise, I'm in a room.

Every nerve inside of my body freezes, my breath hitching in my throat as I scan the familiar room. My head slowly turns, and beside me is that man.

The stranger.

The one who got visibly upset and looked like he wanted to decapitate me when I introduced myself.

My mind is groggy, my body still as can be, and all I know is that I have to get out of here.

I don't know this man, and he probably left my things underneath that chair.

Sliding off the bed as slowly and quietly as I can possibly be, he stirs. With a quick glance over my shoulder, I continue when I notice that he's still sleeping, and my racing heart slows down, making it possible to breathe again.

My eyes scan the room once more, and I slowly pad toward the door, "If you leave, you won't get your stuff back," he grumbles, his voice deep, and my heart jumps out of my chest as I spin on my heel to face him.

His back is resting against the wall, his eyes boring into mine.

"Where is my stuff?" Every word is gritted out perfectly as I stare him down, but he doesn't seem phased about it.

He doesn't care that I'm demanding to know where my things are.

He doesn't care that I'm staring him down, or he simply doesn't notice. "Hello?" my eyebrows raise, and his furrow together, "I'll make you a deal," he tosses the duvet— that we shared— off him, his body twisting as he gets off the bed, pulling on a shirt.

He slept without a shirt, right next to me?

How dare he!

My gaze flicks over his muscular body that's hidden away in public, "What deal?" my head slants to the side, intrigued and caught up in his gaze, he moves around the bed, sitting down on the bottom, staring at me with void, rolling his shoulders back.

"You stay here, with me,", "With you?" my eyebrows raise, and he nods, "With me, yes."

"No chance in hell," I scoff, and his eyebrow raise in surprise, "So you'll just live without everything you brought?" he lifts one eyebrow higher than the other.

My insides twist, anger bursting in my chest, "Are you threatening to steal my stuff?" My eyes narrow on him, and he lifts his shoulder into a shrug, "I don't have it on me, so it's not stealing," he winks, my insides feels like they are turning out as my teeth grind together.

The audacity this man has...

"I can still report you for kidnapping me," I snap back, wanting him to feel scared, but the shimmer glistening in his eyes proves me wrong.

"Kidnap? I gave you a bed, and the door isn't locked, and neither are you tied up against your will," a grin tugs at his lips, a dimple forming in his cheek.

"You're blackmailing me to stay here," I snap, and he shrugs, "I'm merely offering you shelter in the remaining time on the cruise," he grins, shrugging.

"I'll manage for another three nights on the pool chair," I cross my arms, my hip pushing out as I adjust my weight onto one leg.

"Three nights?" he scoffs, shaking his head, "This trip is longer than that," the satisfaction in his eyes set my nerves on fire. "I'm getting off at the next stop when they refuel," I inform him, and the second the words roll off my tongue, I'm drowned in regret, sinking as it piles on top of me.

His face falls, and he stares at me with hallow eyes, his face void of any emotion.

"It would at least still be shelter for the last few nights," his words chipped and gritted.

My mind is spinning with uncertainty, the thought of him being a murderer has the blood in my veins turning ice cold.

"What's your name?" I ask, wanting to at least know that before I stay in this room, with him. "What?" he scoffs, acting like it's a joke.

"I don't know you, or your name." My tone falls

flat, my eyes narrowing in slits, "I at least want to know your name if we’re going to share a room.”

His eyebrows raise as he hesitates, and when he opens his mouth, hope sparks inside of me, but as quick as it comes, it disappears just as fast.

"You don't need to know my name," he lifts his shoulder, and I stare at him agape, my eyebrows furrowing as confusion hits me.

"Fine," I huff, "Then I'll be sleeping on the pool chair, I can buy new things." I stare him down, hoping he'd give me what I want.

I only stare a few more seconds before turning, and the second I touch the door, he caves.

"Drystan," he sighs, "My name is Drystan," this time he breathes the words like it's his last breath.