Unfaithful: Web Of Betrayal

The Introduction



In her younger days, she would’ve stayed for a few more minutes to see what his game was. Too many of them had nothing to offer personality-wise, and she was experienced enough to see that within the first 15 minutes of conversations.

She’s tired of first impressions that lead to nowhere, unimpressive sex at best, and weeks sometimes months, of trying to get rid of them because they seem to like her more than she likes them.

More than that, she has Declan now. The love of her life, whom she married when she was 25 years old. The end of her search for the perfect man every girl wanted to spend the rest of their life with. Declan was hers.

Her husband was the man who convinced her that she didn’t want any other man in her life. He fulfilled her romantically, physically, intellectually, and financially as no one has ever done. He’s the one who paid for her lavish lifestyle because he wanted to spoil her with luxury. He had no problem giving her everything she wanted and needed and more. After all, money was not a problem for Declan Hunt; his family and businesses could provide well over a few generations.

But, like most marriages, they grew apart. What was once so heated, always hot and heavy with each other, gradually turned cold. Declan’s successful business took up more and more of his time; the fact that they couldn’t get pregnant for so long was an added factor that their commitment was mere to each other.

She checked on her phone. It was a little after 2 AM. There was nothing from Declan. She wondered if he even remembered she had left for a 9-day solo vacation. She put it back on the side of the bathtub. She wasn’t eager to know what he was doing either. He is probably working in his study at their home like he usually does until 3 or 4 in the morning.

She got out of the tub and put on the lavender silk robe. She finished her last glass of champagne as she checked herself in the mirror. She liked what she saw. Even if her husband doesn’t appreciate it anymore, at least a strange man does. She smiled.

**********

The morning sun felt warm against her cheeks. The Maitre’D had told her that if she wanted to glimpse the pod of dolphins jumping in and out of the water, she had to catch them early.

She was used to waking up early; she was already out on the guardrail of the side deck before 10 AM. Breakfast was quick because she wasn’t very hungry after a four-course meal the night before, and the endless supply of alcohol on the cruise was not helping her appetite.

She looked through her binoculars to look for sightings of her favorite sea creature, but all she could see was wave after wave of blue splashing against the breeze. The hard wind blew her hat away, and when she turned around to get it back, it landed on the chest of the same young man who had complimented her the night before.

He held a camera in one hand and her hat in the other. He smiled.

“It’s hazardous to be out here alone, you know?”

She let out a silent sigh, she wasn’t looking for company, but these things always happened to her without her even trying.

“I can look out for myself … I hope you’re not here trying to protect me or anything,” she scoffed, extending her arm to get her hat.

He curled his lips and looked down before he looked at her again, “No … I was … looking for dolphins, actually,” he lifted his camera to prove his point, “I’m a photographer.”

She laughed lightly, half-embarrassed for assuming and half relieved that he wasn’t stalking her. “Sorry … I thought you were …” she couldn’t bring herself to say it.

“Following you?” he tilted his shoulder. “We’re on the same boat, and it looks like we have a few things in common … I think we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

She took her hat from his hand, “Thanks.”

“It’s true though, it’s very dangerous to be out here on your own … do you know there are at least 20 people who fall overboard on a cruise ship yearly?” he walked closer to the railing.

“Is that an accurate statistic? They’re probably drunk … I wouldn’t be standing here after a few drinks … not alone anyways.”

The man was standing next to her, looking out at the vast body of water with the wind against his hair. His eyes were clear blue. “You shouldn’t be alone in any case.”

She furrowed her eyebrows; she felt his words were a bit flirtatious.

“I’m Roman,” he offered her a handshake.

She hesitantly shook his hand, “Adele.”

He narrowed his eyes; there was a certain spark in them, “Adele … ” he clicked his tongue, “I’d never guessed it … it doesn’t suit you.”

He was flirting with her, she thought. But the day was much too beautiful to leave that deck without seeing the dolphins. “Really? What name would suit me then?”

He turned towards her with his elbow resting on the railing, “Something much more glamorous … I don’t know … something that feels soft on the tongue … between the lips and let out a gentle air from the vowels.”

She stared at him suspiciously for a moment, wondering if she might have known him from somewhere. Or does he know her? But there was nothing familiar about him; he was just flirting, she convinced herself. “Well … don’t want to disappoint you, but that’s my name.”

He was an alluring gentleman. In that short interaction, she could sense he was a lot more mature than his age, or maybe he looked a lot younger than his age. It was yet to be revealed. But she found herself glancing a few times at him because he was really easy on the eyes.

He turned to face the sea again, “You didn’t disappoint me, Adele … I just have a very active imagination.”

She thought it was awkward for a stranger to admit that he had fantasies about her, but his presence didn’t feel threatening in any way; in fact, he was a nice distraction from her aloneness.

“So … what brings you to this ship? If you don’t mind me asking? I’m here to do some work for the cruise company … They hired me to make a new company profile and do their marketing plan.”

She breathed in the morning air until it filled her lungs, “I’m here to enjoy myself … is that not obvious?”

“Of course … they have great services here, top of its class … and Ludus is quite popular for its singles party, but I haven’t seen you there … yet …”

It struck her; she never heard of it before, “Singles party?”

“Yeah … at the Ludus Club, they held it every night where single people gather just to have fun … dancing, drinking, talking, nothing sexual or anything, just single people enjoying themselves with other single people.”

She raised her brows and curved her lips, “Hmm … this is the first I’ve heard of it. Did they put it in the brochures?”

He laughed lightly, “No, but they will … that’s why I’m here,” he raised his camera again. “I was there last night … I was actually hoping you’d be there.”

It was a subtle invitation, a partial announcement that he was single even though she saw him with at least two different girls on the ship. She was intrigued by the idea of enjoying her trip to the fullest, but the title “Singles Party” was putting it off for her.

She wasn’t single. But nobody needed to know that; her mind was circling the idea. She let go of the railing; the conversation had developed, so she wasn’t comfortable continuing. She wasn’t willing to share any personal information with a stranger, especially when traveling under a fake name.

“I don’t know … parties are not my scene … not anymore,” she said.

“Would you at least try it one time? It would be nice to take pictures of you there … you’d be perfect for the model.

She laughed, “Oh no … please … no pictures, I have to go now … it’s nice talking to you, Roman.” She stepped down from the guardrail platform.

“Where are you going?” he wasn’t ready to let her go yet.

“Do some stuff.”

“Will I see you at the Club tonight?”

She tilted her head to one side, “Don’t wait for me,” she waved one hand at him and walked away. She didn’t want to have to explain anything further.Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

Roman hid a smile, then he took one shot of her from the back. He scrolled back his camera and looked at all the tens of pictures he had taken of her already.


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