Chapter 2: Who the hell was Jason?

~CHRISTIAN~

I glared angrily at my phone as I read through the text message from my girlfriend, Sloane. No, make that ex girlfriend, because she just broke up with me.

[I can't do this anymore, Christian. I didn't board the ship. I couldn't. I can't be with you anymore. You're just not rich enough. You're not what I'm looking for.]

When I first saw it, I didn't believe Sloane would end things with me for that particular reason. We were too much in love, and money had never been a problem between us.

Until now.

Alone in the ship's private lounge, I tossed my phone to the couch beside me and reached for the glass of vodka on the table.

But I couldn't concentrate. I couldn't think. I can't believe Sloane ended things with me because she thought I was poor.

I pulled out a velvet box from my pocket and flipped it open.

A diamond ring winked up at me, the square-shaped stone glittering like stars. A small smile touched my lips as I gazed at it.

It belonged to my mother, one of the few belongings she left behind before she died.

I planned to propose to Sloane once the ship docked. And apart from proposing, I also wanted to reveal my true identity to her.

Sloane thought I was a penniless man with a troubled past and endless debts. Well she would, because that was what I showed her. And she fell for me.

But unknown to her, it was all a disguise. I was more than just a poor man with a past. So much more, and I was ready to reveal it to her.

Sloane and I have been together for a year. The first time I saw her, it was at a nightclub in Paris.

She caught my attention as she danced on the stage, right above the crowd of wealthy men who struggled to have a glimpse of her.

After she performed, I followed her behind the stage, and spotted two men who tried to assault her.

I came to her rescue, knocking the men unconscious. And when I looked into her eyes, that was the moment I fell head over heels.

It started with coffee dates and private steamy sessions in the night club. Before we knew it, we were deeply in love.

She was bubbly and full of life, a broken model with dreams to be a star someday.

Her kind nature reminded me so much of my own mother, and that was probably why I fell for her.

My smile faded suddenly and I slammed the box shut. Thinking about my mother was the last thing I wanted to do. I didn't want to reopen old wounds.

I was disappointed in Sloane, to say the least. I thought she was different. I thought she actually loved me, but it turned out she was just out for the money.

Deep down, I was glad I never revealed my real identity to her. Even though I loved her completely, I didn't need someone who would only be with me for my wealth and status.

I grabbed the glass of vodka again and took a sip as my mind rolled over the memories of the past years.

It took me by surprise when my father suddenly sent for me, after years of being away.

It was unusual, as I had always been a shame to the family. The illegitimate son of the Cartwright family. The famous playboy.

I vowed never to return to New York, never to return to the Cartwright Mansion.

But fate had other plans.

I emptied the contents in my glass and snapped my fingers to signal the lounge's waitress.

She hurried in with another bottle of vodka and placed it before me. Her blonde hair slipped over her shoulders as she leaned down and poured a shot.

"Leave the bottle." I muttered, and turned back to my phone. I couldn't stop thinking about that text message.

I refused to believe things were actually over, even though the proof was right there.

Just then, my assistant, Eric, walked into the lounge.

He was on the phone, and he rounded up his conversation as he lowered to the couch beside me.

"You won't believe who I just saw out there." He said.

I frowned and looked at him. "Who?"

"Your nephew."

I nearly choked on my vodka as I sat up abruptly.

"That brat is here?" I snapped.

Eric chuckled and poured himself a glass of wine.

"He's right in this bar as we speak. I was a little surprised to see him here."

"That kid is trouble." I leaned back and poured another shot of vodka. "He's as dumb and as clueless as the rest of the fucking family."

I despised every member of the Cartwright family, but I despised my nephew more.

The boy was as unpleasant as his late father, who had been my half brother.

He was the last person I wanted to see on this cruise, and I intended to keep it that way.

"I think I'll turn in for the night." I rose up, taking the bottle of vodka with me.

"Do you need anything else?"

"Nothing. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes, boss. Goodnight." Eric nodded.

I turned and walked out of the lounge, taking the private exit that led straight to my suite.

My steps were steady as I walked back. The evening air felt cold, and the ship rocked softly against the waves.

I stepped into my suite, finished the entire bottle of vodka and suddenly felt hot.

Sweat broke out of my skin, and my head ached. My eyes watered, and realization dawned on me.

I had been drugged.

That fucking waitress must have roofied my drink before serving it.

This wasn't the first time something like this was happening to me.

Back in Paris, someone had spiked my drink. Fortunately, Eric had caught the woman responsible.

I could feel my vision blurring out as the drug, whatever it was, took effect. It was a good thing I left the bar.

I staggered to the bathroom and stood under the shower for a few minutes, letting the cold water clear my head.

Afterwards, I changed into a pair of slacks, crawled into the bed and slept off.

...

I woke up to someone kissing me.

I opened my eyes which still felt heavy and scrutinized the woman straddling me in the dark.

Sloane? It couldn't be. She told me she didn't board the ship.

"My love." She whispered, and I perceived the tequila in her breath.

I kissed her, holding her close to me. Fuck! I missed her so much.

"You're here." I whispered as I flipped us over, covering her body with mine. "And you're drunk."

She giggled and whispered something about wanting to seduce me.

I wanted to ask her why she sent that text, why she broke up with me, but she was kissing me already, rubbing against my cock and slowly driving me nuts.

Well, fuck the text. We'd talk about it in the morning. She was all that mattered at that moment.

I kissed her passionately, groaning at the pressure of her thighs around me. Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer. Her soft moans drove me insane, pushing me over the edge.

We never had sex during our relationship, and I was surprised to find out she was untouched. I decided to go gentle with her, since it was her first time.

Afterwards, I collapsed beside her, breathing heavily. I heard her whisper about how amazing it was, and I chuckled.

"It was amazing," I murmured.

She rolled into my arms and smiled blissfully.

Something came over me then. Maybe it was the vodka still in my system, or the drug. But I suddenly grabbed the velvet box beside me and flipped it open, holding it to her face.

"Sloane, my love, will you marry me?"

"Oh, Jason." She gasped, grabbing the ring and slipping it on her finger. "Yes. Oh yes, I'll marry you."

I froze, at the same time she did.

Who the hell was Jason?