Rising From Ashes: The Heiress They Tried To Erase
Between Ruin And Resolve: My Ex-Husband's Regret
Marrying A Secret Zillionaire: Happy Ever After
The Phantom Heiress: Rising From The Shadows
Jilted Ex-wife? Billionaire Heiress!
Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You Can't Afford Me Now
Rejected No More: I Am Way Out Of Your League, Darling!
The Jilted Heiress' Return To The High Life
Beneath His Ugly Wife's Mask: Her Revenge Was Her Brilliance
Secrets Of The Neglected Wife: When Her True Colors Shine
- Well, hello, South!
I know it's corny, but nothing else just popped into my head.
Probably half of vacationers start their vacation with this hackneyed phrase. No, maybe there are those who say more pathos words, but I seem to belong to the staunch majority of our compatriots who have longed for the warmth of the south, who are not wising up and are content with banal clichés. However, to be quite frank, I am a simple, average resident of our vast country, so it is hard to expect originality from me.
These and similar "vacation" thoughts accompanied me on the way from the airport to the hotel, then snuck up after me in the elevator and quietly slipped into a large double room - yes, I broke for "absolutely unacceptable luxury", as my friend Lka said. Ha! If she knew what I'd rented it for!
Dropping my suitcase by the closet, I went straight to the French window and swung it open. The fresh sea breeze instantly blew into the room, picking up the light curtains and throwing them desperately in my face. I tore the revitalized fabric away from me, stepped out onto the balcony, and looked around contentedly. Freedom. No! Two whole weeks of freedom!
I leaned over the railing and put my face into the warm, gentle wind. M-mmm... I can't even believe it! From the dank September to the velvety warmth of the southern city... A fairy tale! The sea-scented air, the mountains visible in the distance, snow-white clouds clinging to their tops....
Okay, stop relaxing. That's not why I'm here. Well, I am, but in a different way. I glanced at the neighboring hotels and smiled carnivorously. What fun! I think my plan is going to work!
I gutted the long-suffering suitcase - I'd inherited it from my sister, and she'd traveled the world with it - spread it out on the shelves of the roomy closet, and threw a pair of short shorts and an open top on the bed. A very revealing top. You could say it was revealing and provocative. Although, if you think about it... It's hard to shock someone with such things at a resort, there's a beach full of all kinds of nudity, for every taste. Well, that's not the point. The point is, I look hot in a bright red tank top. That's according to my friend Hannah!
I pulled on my clothes, twirled in front of the mirror, and nodded satisfied. Perfect. My breasts peeked out appetizingly from the low neckline, my ass was tightly covered in denim, my eyes were burning, and my newly bleached hair fell in light waves over my shoulders. She's beautiful!
Satisfied with the inspection, I threw an old Nokia and money into my bag, left the room and went to conquer the "resort prairie".
***
- Young lady, did you lose your cell phone?
A voice with a distinct Caucasian accent sounded above my ear.
I jerked, turned, and met the hot gaze of the short brunet. So, what do we got? Local, cocky, unshaven. No, not our client. We, Aria, do not need such.
Losing interest in the southern macho, I shook my head carelessly and stared at the menu again. What should I choose? Bean Soup or Tomato Soup?
The open cafe I had wandered into a few minutes ago offered both, and I was agonizing over which I wanted more - icy Tomato Soup, with fragrant tomato, fresh pepper and bright specks of radish, or rich bean soup with appetizing circles of smoked meat and a thin slice of lemon floating in the middle.
- Girl, why is such a beautiful girl alone? - a persistent Caucasian added to the set of clichés.
- Look, give it up, will you? - I looked at the overgrown brunet and made the most beastly expression I could muster. - I'm waiting for my husband.
- Husband? Why does he let his wife go alone? Isn't he afraid of being stolen?
He's a persistent fellow, though. Time to blow him off.
- Where's the phone? - I turned to the man and stared at him point-blank.
- What? - The macho man was confused.
- I said, where's the phone? You know, the one I lost.
- Uh, the phone.
The local heartthrob suddenly stammered.