Betrayed By Him: Claimed By The Boss

Katia crumpled the damp tissue in her fist and tossed it into the small brass trash can beside the sofa.

She reached for Audrey's half-full martini glass and downed the rest of it.

The gin burned her throat again, but this time, it numbed the sharp edges of her panic.

Audrey watched her, her perfectly arched eyebrows drawing together in a deep frown.

"You're going to make yourself sick," Audrey said, crossing her arms.

"Look, if you want to get back at him, let me call some guys. I have three male models on speed dial who would kill to spend an hour with you."

Audrey pulled out her phone, tapped the screen, and shoved it in front of Katia's face.

Images of chiseled jawlines and eight-pack abs glared brightly in the dim room.

Katia pushed the phone away, her stomach rolling at the thought.

"I don't want a cheap distraction, Audrey."

She rubbed her temples, feeling a massive headache building behind her eyes.

"I feel like I'm covered in mud. I just want to take a scalding hot shower and sleep for twenty-four hours."

"You can't go back to the penthouse," Audrey pointed out. "His stuff is there. You'll just smell his cologne and lose your mind."

Katia fell silent. The muscles in her neck tightened.

Audrey was right. The thought of stepping back into that foyer made her physically nauseous.

"Book me a room," Katia said, her voice steadying. "The most expensive suite in the city."

She unzipped her purse and pulled out a sleek, black credit card.

"And use this. It's the authorized user card Caleb gave me for emergencies, tied to his main account."

Audrey's eyes lit up with malicious glee. A wicked smile spread across her red lips.

"Oh, I love a good revenge charge."

Audrey dialed a number on her phone.

"Corbett Grand Hotel, VIP line," she whispered to Katia, covering the receiver.

Within two minutes, Audrey had leveraged her status as a high-profile club owner to secure the Presidential Suite on the top floor.

She hung up the phone.

"Done. Top floor. Are you absolutely sure you don't want me to send a little room service? A guy who knows how to use his tongue?"

Katia pressed her fingers against her throbbing forehead. "No, Audrey. Just... no."

Katia stood up.

The alcohol hit her bloodstream hard. The floor tilted slightly beneath her feet, and she swayed.

Audrey jumped up and grabbed her elbow. "Whoa. Let me come with you."

Katia shook her head, pulling her arm away. "I need to be alone. I need quiet."

She picked up the black credit card from the table and shoved it into her pocket.

She grabbed her blazer and draped it over her shoulders. The cold, calculating look returned to her eyes.

Audrey sighed and handed her a sleek black keycard a server had just left on the table.

"Room 6002. The car is waiting out front."

Katia took the card, didn't look at the number, and shoved it into the pocket of her blazer.

She pushed the heavy door of the VIP room open.

The deafening bass of the club crashed over her again.

She walked through the corridor. Her steps were slightly heavy, her balance slightly off, but she kept her spine perfectly straight.

The bartender nodded at her as a massive bouncer pushed the heavy front door open for her.

A black Lincoln Town Car idled at the curb.

The driver, wearing a sharp suit, stepped out and opened a large black umbrella, shielding her from the rain.

Katia ducked her head and slid into the plush leather backseat.

The driver slammed the door shut, sealing her in the quiet darkness.