Betrayed By Lorenzo

“I can't believe it, you actually managed to get her into your bed!” A chuckling, masculine voice rang in Aria's ears as she was about to turn the doorknob. A cold shiver ran up her spine as she listened to the booming sound of laughter that followed. The laughter loudest in her ears was Lorenzo's. It shot into her ears and went straight for her heart.

Is Lorenzo cheating on me?

Unwilling to believe so, yet scared of finding out, she decided to listen more.

“It was as easy as plucking an orange from your grandfather's orchard, Wen.” Lorenzo, a tall, well-toned, teen with a prominently handsome face, smirked at his tipsy and loud friend. He frowned a little, checking his Rolex wristwatch.

Why is she not here yet, he mused inwardly.

It was Lorenzo Walters' birthday, and he was holding it at his townhouse with his small circle of friends.

“Hm, and this orange, how sweet was it?” Wen continued to ask.

“It was the juiciest and sweetest orange I have ever had. I ate it in and out. Even the peel didn't escape.” Lorenzo confidently boasted of his conquest while Aria, his girlfriend of three months, listened outside the door.

“Before you get your price tonight, we need evidence. Solid visual evidence or we will not accept your claims.” One of his friends said aloud, his voice was filled with mischief.

“What do you mean?” Lorenzo frowned. When they were making the bet at the beginning of last semester, nobody said anything about visual evidence.

“You expect us to just take your word for it? No way.”

“You didn't even take a picture?” Lorenzo's close friend, Wenasked, giving Lorenzo a disappointed look.

“I took a picture of her sleeping after the deed. Will that be enough?” Lorenzo asked. He didn't like how this was going, but he felt like he had no choice. Plus, it was just a picture of her blissfully sleeping face. There was no harm in that.

“Sure. If you can manage to sleep with Aria Queens on the same bed without touching her, it is already a great achievement.”

“What?”

Outside the door, Aria gasped in shock. Lorenzo wasn't cheating on her. He was boasting of having sex with her. Aria felt a sharp stab in her chest and her grip on the doorknob tightened.

While she kept listening, Lorenzo passed the picture around. In it, she was scooped into his arms and fast asleep. He had woken up in the middle of the night to use the restroom. It was when he returned to bed that he took the picture. Thereafter, he changed his phone's wallpaper from his picture to that picture. The next morning, he showed her the picture, and she was delighted that he made it his wallpaper.

How could Lorenzo do this to me? If he had taken pictures of my body, would he have shared it?

With shaking hands, Aria released the door knob and slowly turned around. As she made her way back to her car, tears started dropping from her eyes and her mind went back to last semester when she had just entered the university to study business administration.

As the first daughter of Anthony Queens and the heir to one of the biggest companies in the country, Aria was effortlessly popular. Attending the same school with her was considered an opportunity for young men to cozy up to her. Many suitors came her way, but they quickly found out that Aria Queens was a breathing Iceberg with a sharp mouth. Her arrogance was unrivaled, and she was not scared to speak her mind. It never mattered whom she was speaking to.

Though she was beautiful and elegant, the young men soon accepted that she was unreachable.

Unknown to them, Aria had intentionally put this disgusting personality on display because she wanted to defile her father, Anthony Queens. Before Aria left home, her father insistently reminded her to find a suitable husband, or he would find one for her.

Her plan was successful as the boys stopped disturbing her. That was until she ran into Lorenzo Walters, the heir to the Walters conglomerate, a group of companies that would effortlessly swallow her father's company with just a word of disapproval.

They met at the mall where she had gone for some shopping. He had run into her, almost making her fall. She fell into his arms, and Lorenzo had gently held on to her until she was steady on her feet. Thereafter, he helped her to gather all the items that fell off her bag. He insisted on buying her lunch as a form of apology, and would later stay with her as she spent hours making her hair at a salon inside the mall.

Lorenzo was witty and charming. It was hard not to fall for him. Aria tried her best to safeguard her heart against Lorenzo, but he wouldn't leave her alone. From getting her phone number from her lecturer after she refused to give it to him, to stalking her until he found out where she was living off campus. Thereafter, he studied her routine and was always available to take her home from the campus almost every day.

Then, there were the Sunday picnics. It started with Lorenzo showing up with a food basket at her waterside house one Sunday. They ate the food beside the small creek that ran past the back of her house. After that day, he continuously brought food to her house on Sundays, unfailingly.

How could she not fall for him?

Aria Queens didn't fall fast, but she fell hard. Then two weeks ago, on their third-month anniversary of their first meeting, she finally decided to trust her heart and gave her virginity to him. Since then, they have done it several times, and she has lost count of how many times. The moments she spent in his arms were the most precious and beautiful moments of her nineteen-year-old life.

But to Lorenzo Walters, he was just fulfilling the terms of a bet he made with his friends. For what? What was worth her virginity?

As her mind ran amok, Aria staggered forward in a daze. She absentmindedly entered the elevator, went downstairs, and stalked past her car.

The greeting from the guard at the gate of Lorenzo's condo went unanswered, and the honks of several cars were like muffled voices.

Aria's pain was so intense, that it blocked off every other sense. She was oblivious to her surroundings as she wobbled into the main road in a daze, stepping right in front of a speeding sports car.