Taming The Billionaire-He was never meant to fall for her, She was paid to destroy him

(Malia's POV)

  The sky was already dark when I finally dragged myself through the door of the apartment I shared with David.

The sharp click of my heels echoed against the hardwood floor as I stepped inside, each sound reminding me of how useless the day had been. 

Rejection. 

 Again. 

Another job interview where I smiled until my cheeks ached, only to be told they were looking for someone with more "industry experience." Whatever that meant.

All I wanted now was to throw my body into bed, bury my face in David's chest, and forget the world existed. I had texted him on my way home. He hadn't replied, but I wasn't worried. David wasn't the best at texting back. He never had been. He always said he preferred "real conversations."

My bag slid off my shoulder with a tired sigh as I stepped into the living room.

 Two glasses sat on the coffee table. One still had juice in it-grapefruit, from the color-and the other looked like it had been nearly drained. A faint lipstick stain marked the rim.

 I swallowed down the first flutter of unease that brushed my chest. He probably had a guest. A colleague, maybe. Or one of his freelance photography clients. He always entertained them here. He was charming like that-David could make anyone feel at home. That was part of why I loved him. Or... used 

  I slipped off my heels and made my way toward the stairs.

  As I climbed, I noticed it.

 A sound.

  Muffled at first. Familiar in a way I didn't want to admit.

  My heart began to race.

  No. It's the TV, I told myself, trying hard to feel convinced. David always watched those late-night thrillers, the ones with awkwardly loud soundtracks. That had to be it.

  But as I reached the top of the stairs, the sound became clearer. A breathy moan. Then another. Louder.

  My legs stopped moving. My hand gripped the banister.

  No.

  I forced myself forward. Step by step. The hallway stretched too long. Too narrow. The walls suddenly felt like they were closing in.

  My fingers trembled as I reached for our bedroom door. It was slightly ajar. Light spilled through the crack. Laughter-feminine, high-pitched-cut through the air like a knife.

  I should've turned around. Should've walked away.

  But I didn't.

  I pushed the door open.

  And the world collapsed.

  David, my David, was on the bed. His body bare. His hand tangled in the hair of a red-haired woman who was on her knees, her mouth-

  I gasped, and the sound came out strangled.

  He didn't even notice me at first. He was too caught up in the moment, too lost in her, in what she was doing to him.

  The redhead's eyes flicked toward me first.

  "Who the hell is she?" she asked, blinking.

  David's head snapped in my direction. "Oh shit-Malia?" He scrambled, grabbing a towel and clutching it around his waist. "Baby-I can explain-"

  But I wasn't listening.

  I