Pampered By The Heartless Billionaire Monster

Bridget stood before the heavy mahogany door of the Baccarat Hotel suite. She pulled the spare keycard from her purse-the one he had given her for emergencies-and pressed it against the sensor. The green light flashed, and she pushed it open. The air inside smelled of expensive champagne and unfamiliar sweat. She took one step onto the thick carpet, and her heel caught on something soft. She looked down. A piece of black lace underwear lay discarded on the floor. It was not hers.

A sharp cramp seized her stomach. The sound of heavy breathing and a woman's high-pitched moan echoed from the half-open bedroom door down the hall. Bridget's teeth sank into her lower lip until she tasted copper. She forced her legs to move, walking toward the sounds.

She shoved the bedroom door wide open. The dim light from the bedside lamp illuminated the massive king bed. David, the man who had promised to marry her, was tangled in the sheets with a blonde woman. Bridget's fingernails dug so deeply into her palms that the skin broke.

David froze. He turned his head and saw Bridget standing in the doorway. He did not jump out of bed in a panic. Instead, he slowly pulled the white hotel bathrobe over his shoulders, his face completely calm.

The blonde woman screamed and pulled the duvet over her chest. Bridget raised her phone. Her thumb hit the capture button repeatedly. The harsh flash pierced the dim room, lighting up David's exposed chest and the messy bed.

David lunged forward, reaching for the phone.

"Give me that."

Bridget stepped to the side. His hand grabbed empty air. She stared at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly. The coldness in her blood made her fingertips completely numb.

David's face turned red with anger. He rubbed his nose, a habit he always had when he was caught in a lie, but this time his voice was full of mockery.

"Stop acting so pure, Bridget. You are just an illegitimate daughter the Vincent family could throw away at any second. You need this marriage more than I do."

The word hit her like a physical blow to the ribs. Her vision blurred for a second. The rational string in her brain snapped. She raised her right hand and slapped him across the face with all her strength. The sharp smack echoed in the room.

David stumbled back, holding his cheek, cursing loudly. Bridget looked at the three-carat diamond engagement ring on her finger. It was a heavy, expensive symbol of a future she now realized was a complete lie. Instead of throwing it in a fit of rage, she slowly and deliberately slid the cold metal over her knuckle. She placed it carefully on the edge of the mahogany nightstand, the diamond catching the dim light.

"The engagement is over."

She turned around and walked out of the suite. Her steps were fast and heavy. The heavy door slammed shut behind her, cutting off