Intoxication

by L. S. Slayford

  “Caught doing what, exactly?” Cong asked, confused, and wishing she would get straight to the point, but knew she would take forever if he didn’t let her get on with it her way.

  Glancing up, a smile curved on those pale pink lips. “I was confused at first, but I stayed and listened to their conversation, hiding behind the door. They said something about having to wipe the files clean after the office shut down that night otherwise the money could be traced back to them. So, I went back up to tell Daddy and brother dearest about what I heard. When I described the voices, they knew exactly who the men were, and marched right down to their offices.”

  “Don’t tell me, these guys were embezzling from your brother’s company?” Cong said, folding his arms over his chest.

  Ruomei nodded, flicking a tongue over her lips. “It seems like they got away with millions of Lang’s money. They tried to make a run for it, but of course, security got them. Then the police arrived, and they were arrested.”

  “I never heard about this,” Cong said, his gaze sharp as he narrowed his eyes at her. He heard everything.

  Dismissing his comment with a wave, Ruomei snorted. “Of course you didn’t, Cong. Lang made sure that none of this leaked to the news. Especially once he learnt the truth.”

  Cong sighed. “And what is the truth?”

  “That my dear, sweet, foolish brother is broke. The two men who worked for him took every single yuan from him. Not only that, but they amassed so much debt in the company’s name it would take a century for Lang to pay off.”

  “You sound happy about this. Doesn’t your brother pay for your lifestyle? How are you going to enjoy the lavish hotels and the expensive nights out if he’s broke?”

  Ruomei lifted her head and shot him a devilish grin. “That’s where you come in, lover.”

  Cong’s eyebrows shot up at her words. “Me? How? What role do I play in this?”

  “Well, I know for a fact that you are always on the lookout for new businesses to acquire. Lang is seriously debating about putting his company on the market now he knows there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell of recuperating any of his money back. And there’s nothing left to pay off the debts. He’s desperate.”

  “So?”

  “So, if you had the right information to hand, say like only the information someone on the inside of things could attain, then you could get it for a fraction of the normal price. Lang’s company makes an absolute fortune in engineering, you know that. If it weren’t for these conmen, then my brother wouldn’t be in this situation. But since he is, well …” her words trailed off.

  Cong pressed his hand to his forehead and frowned. “Are you suggesting that you can be my inside guy?”

  Ruomei stood up, smoothing down her dress, throwing her clutch bag onto her seat behind her. She walked around the desk, resting a hip beside Cong’s computer, but ensured she didn’t touch him. “Of course, darling. I can get you all the information you need. Spreadsheets, stock reports, emails. Whatever you need, I’m your girl.”

  Something flashed behind those dark eyes, something that made Cong uneasy. “And what do you get out of this, Ruomei? Why would you go to all that trouble of screwing your brother over to help me acquire his business?”

  Her grin turned devilishly cold. “I want a percentage of the price you pay for the company. After all, a good informer is worth their weight in gold, and I’m certainly worth every yuan. Besides, as you said, I like the high life, and there’s no way that I’m losing that just because my idiotic brother didn’t safeguard his company. If it had been me running it, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, but my father and brother are idiots. They always have been. But I’m not.”

  Ruomei was just as ruthless as he was when it came to business. She would have made a great rival to contend with, but his stomach turned at the thought of what she was proposing. No matter what, you didn’t screw your family over for money.

  But Wei Lang wasn’t his family, and Ruomei was right. The company was worth billions if invested and torn apart wisely. A sizzle of excitement started to stir at the prospect, but first, he’d need to uncover what she was hiding.

  Cong stared at her, his gaze hard. A knot appeared between his brows. “I know there’s something else you’ve got in mind, Ruomei. Spill it, otherwise don’t waste my time.”

  “Well,” she said, drawing out the word in a purr. “There was something else I wanted in exchange for the information.”

  He leaned back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest, his forehead creasing in deep thought. “What? A position in the company? Stocks? The company credit card?”

  Ruomei laughed, throwing her hands up in the air. “Oh, sweet gods, no. Could you see me doing the office nine to five? Cong, my darling, you are hilarious. No, what I want is something much more … desirable.”

  A sigh of irritation escaped out of his mouth. He was getting bored now. “Which is?”

  “You.”

  Cong’s head snapped up, eyes widening in surprise. “Me?”

  Ruomei moved away from the desk and took his hand, running it up her bare thigh. “Yes, Cong. I want you. We had so much fun before, and you must admit, the sex between us was incredible. I can’t believe how many times you made me orgasm in a single night. No one has ever managed to live up to your standards since then. So, I started thinking. You get the company and all that lovely money, and I get a percentage of that money and countless orgasms. I think that’s a pretty good deal, don’t you?”

  Cong sat there in disbelief at the sound of her words, and it took a moment to register that she had moved his hand so that his fingers were now brushing the slick smooth folds of her naked sex. By the gods, didn’t this woman ever wear underwear? Quickly, he moved his hand away from her body and pushed back his chair, wanting to put some distance between them.

  Disgust revolved in his stomach at her words. “Listen, Ruomei, it’s a great offer, but for some reason, I think I’m going to have to decline. All of it,” he told her in a firm voice, his jaw tightening as he tried to reel in his frustration.

  But Ruomei was apparently not listening. Instead, she sat back on his desk and lifted her dress, spreading her thighs. She took her hand and started to touch herself, never looking away from his face, moaning slightly. “Hmm, darling, I don’t think that’s such a good idea. Why don’t you think about it overnight, and then tomorrow you can give me your final answer?”

  Cong stood up and took the few steps towards her, grabbing her wrists in his hands, and his stomach turned as he heard her gasp of excitement. His eyes narrowed into tiny slits. “I think you’d better go,” he told her, his voice low and hard.

  Ruomei twisted her hands until she was free, sinking to her knees. Quickly, she started undoing his belt buckle. “I think I’d better show you exactly what you’ve been missing, lover. Just imagine me on my knees, under your desk while you sign the contract that makes you billions. Wouldn’t that be good?” she whispered, her voice husky with lust.

  Cong reached down to grab her hands and pull her away from his zipper when he heard his door creak open, and a horrified gasp saturated the air.

  Standing in the doorway stood Tara. Her green eyes were misty with tears as she took in the scene before her.

  Every muscle in Cong’s body stilled as horror descended over him. A moment of silence stretched into eternity as no one spoke or even breathed. It took all his strength to open his mouth and swallow the massive lump now forming in his throat. “Tara,” he breathed, panic coating his tone. “I promise, it’s not what you think.”

  Tara’s face dropped, her eyes unable to mask the pure raw horror at the sight of another woman on her knees before him. “I thought you were different,” she whispered, tears glistening in those jade green eyes before disappearing, her footsteps echoing into the distance.

  Tara

  Darkness swam in Tara’s veins as the world flew by in a daze. The light may have been fading, but for Tara, the world aro
und her was already black. People strode past her, weaving in and around her when she refused to give by, and she hardly noticed the frowns and scowls they gave her, let alone the annoyed mutterings that trailed behind. No, for Tara, the world had disappeared.

  How could you have genuinely believed that someone as incredible as him expect to be faithful to you? Hell, you couldn’t even keep a mere accountant faithful, let alone someone like Cong, the voice within her head snickered.

  The voice was right, though, Tara thought. Cong was a highly successful and driven businessman with a ruthless reputation. What was she? A school teacher on holiday. What was she really expecting? Honesty? Faithfulness? Trust?

  Yes.

  The sad fact was, she realised, she wanted those things from him. Cong was all that she had thought about since bumping into him at the airport less than two weeks ago. The sex had been amazing, and she’d genuinely cared for him.

  Stupid girl, the voice told her. You fell in love with him.

  Tara stopped. Horror washed over her, the realisation crashing through her. She had fallen in love with him. A hot tear trickled out of the side of her eye, slowly dripping down her cheek. She felt as though she’d stepped into a maze with no exit, and only just understood she was trapped. When had it happened, how did it happen? The answers were a mystery, out of reach from her grasp, but she couldn’t deny them. Not to herself.

  Not that it had mattered. She had still been betrayed, still been hurt, her soul tortured.

  “Love is torture,” she whispered to herself, feeling another tear cascade down her cheek. Wiping it away, Tara rolled her head back and stared at the sky. Gold-tinged scarlet clouds scattered across the darkening sky, a cool breeze caressing her skin. At any other time, she’d find it beautiful, but not tonight.

  How could he do that to her? Knowing what had happened with Greg and Carly, how could he have sex with another woman just before she arrived? Maybe he got off on the thrill. Tara had read about men who found the danger of seeing one woman finding them with another a turn on. Maybe he thought he wouldn’t get caught. Maybe he thought she would join them.

  Maybe she should cut her trip short and just go home. Maybe it was a mistake to have come to Macau. Maybe someone else would try and do the same thing to her in Hong Kong if she went.

  Maybe, maybe, maybe. So many damn maybes.

  Once again, the emotions coursing through her body turned jagged, and her insides tightened. Tara shook her head and carried on walking. The streets were still a blur, and the people walking past were barely noticeable. Her feet kept on walking automatically, her mind not paying attention to where she was going, her chest heavy, as if weighed down by a chest full of lead. No one heard the screams and whimpering within her head.

  Suddenly, Tara found herself falling, and a second later, pain erupted behind her eyes. Her vision swam in blackness for a moment before dissipating at the corners to reveal grey concrete. Hands swept over her limbs, and Tara gasped as she was hauled to her feet. Her knees wobbled as the world came back into focus, the faces of strangers painted with concern the first thing she could make out.

  “Miss, miss, you OK?” came the heavily accented voice of an old man, grey hair falling over concerned eyes, the creases in his face so deep Tara imagined when rain splashed down, they’d turn into rivers.

  Trying to maintain her balance, and inhaling deeply to steady her nerves, Tara nodded, even though it was a lie. Something warm trickled down her face. Raising a shaky hand to it, she pulled it away to look. Blood coated her fingers, and sharp pain blossomed over her head.

  “Damnit,” she muttered bitterly, trying to fend off the tears burning behind her eyes, looking down at her feet. A large crack, several inches wide and at least two inches deep, stared back at her. Rips appeared at the knees of her trousers, and Tara knew that if she reached down, she’d discover more blood there. You must be the clumsiest woman ever, the voice scolded her. Tara imagined if the voice were a real person, it would be rolling its eyes right about now.

  “Will you be OK?” the man asked, his narrow brown eyes looking over her in a fatherly manner.

  Tara nodded, giving him a half-smile, as she felt the other hands fall away from her. “I’ll be fine, sir. My hotel is just across the road.”

  Nodding, the old man dropped his hands, and it took everything she had to maintain her balance. “OK, miss. You careful. Holes everywhere.” Muttering about potholes, he walked off, disappearing into the crowds.

  I bet that woman Cong was with wouldn’t have tripped over a stupid hole and bang her head, the voice muttered.

  The dizziness drained away with each breath, but the thought of Cong with that woman sent a fresh stab of pain through her. Something clawed in her throat, and a whimper shot around the lump forming there. Christ, that woman had been the epitome of gorgeous with her silky black hair, tiny waist, and huge boobs. And what was she? A redhead with pale skin and wide hips, and constantly falling all over the damn place. She’s probably better in bed than you. Maybe that’s why Cong was going to fuck her; because you couldn’t give him what he needed.

  A dark film stretched over her eyes, and for a moment Tara wished it would swallow her up and take her away from the world. She couldn’t even walk down a road without tripping, but that woman? Yeah, she’d probably glide down the catwalk in six-inch heels without falling flat on her face.

  Inhaling deeply, Tara took an unsteady step forward, wiping the blood on her fingers on the black top she wore. Spying her hotel across the road, she headed for it, the call of a hot shower and the mini-bar unable to resist. Maybe she could drink her weight in vodka tonight. That sounded like the best plan she’d had in a while.

  The doorman opened the doors of the building for her, a noticeable crease lining his forehead as he took in the sight of her dishevelled appearance. Ignoring him, she stepped over to the reception and asked for her key.

  The young receptionist, this time a bi-racial woman in her early twenties with piercing brown eyes and mousy-coloured hair tied in a bun at the back of her head, handed over the keycard. “There is a message for you, Miss.”

  “If it’s from a certain Zheng Cong, I don’t want to read it. Throw it away,” Tara said, her voice weary and flat as she turned towards the elevator.

  “No, Miss,” the receptionist said, handing her a piece of paper. “Your mother rang earlier and asked if you could call her back as soon as possible.”

  Tara’s brow creased in confusion. “My mother?”

  Tara felt the young woman’s eyes roam over her face, locking in on the sight of blood now drying on the side. “Yes, Miss. She rang an hour ago and said to call back as it is urgent. Do you need medical attention?”

  “No, thank you. Just a little accident with my feet and a rather large crack in the street,” Tara said softly, still none the wiser to what on earth her mother could have wanted.

  Finally stepping into her room, Tara switched on the lights and tossed the keycard on the desk. Her mother could wait. The first thing she needed to do was clean herself up. Stripping off her clothes, Tara tossed the trousers in the bin beside the desk. There was no sense in keeping ruined clothes after all. Naked, Tara headed towards the bathroom and switched on the shower. Stepping inside, she flinched at the sensation of her toes touching the cold tiles, but it was a welcome relief to feel something else apart from pain. Her mind was in shreds; images of Cong and that woman’s hands all over him ripped her to pieces. She didn’t know what was worse – finding Greg in bed with her cousin not expecting her to walk through the door, or finding Cong about to get a blowjob in his office knowing she was about to meet him.

  Either way, men sucked.

  Her eyes closed as the water trickled down her back, images of Cong and his mysterious woman flashing behind them. Damnit, why couldn’t she get them out of her head? Grabbing the shampoo bottle, Tara washed her hair, telling herself that she was washing away the images. It didn’t work.

  Nothin
g would work.

  After finishing her shower, Tara grabbed the complimentary robe hanging on the door and pulled it around her, grateful for its thickness. Despite the relative warmth of the room and the heat from her shower, Tara felt nothing but cold.

  Suck it up and get it over with, the voice told her as Tara’s eyes settled on the phone. Sighing wearily, Tara picked it up, dialling the number she knew so well. After several rings, someone picked up the other line. “Hello?”

  “Hello, Mother, it’s me.”

  “Tara, finally!” came her mother’s exasperated voice. “I’ve been ringing you all morning.”

  “I’ve just got back to my hotel,” Tara sighed. “Why did you want me to ring you? I’m supposed to be on holiday.”

  “What’s the matter, Tara? You sound upset. Please don’t tell me you’re moping after Greg? That relationship is well and truly done; you’re better off just getting with life, dear.”

  Tara snorted. “Thanks for the uplifting talk, Mother. It really helped. And no, I’m not moping after Greg. As far as I am concerned, he doesn’t exist. Nor does Carly. How can I get upset about people who don’t exist?”

  “Yes, well, erm …” her mother murmured nervously.

  Tara could tell her something was making her mother anxious. She rubbed her eyes with the heel of her palm, suddenly exhausted. “What’s the matter, mum? What’s got you so upset all of a sudden?”

  “Er … look, Tara, Greg and Carly came over today to talk to your aunt. Clare and I have been going out nearly every day since you’ve been gone, trying to sort out things for the wedding, the costs of the events, and all that. You know what your aunt is like with money; she can’t keep track of anything she spends and -”