Bella's POV:
Last night, I slept with a strange man.
I'm not a woman who has casual sex, but the reason I did this was that I was too heartbroken yesterday.
My boyfriend of three years said I'm not gentle, not considerate, and not sexy.
Then he turned around and went to England with a rich girl.
Although I appeared very strong in front of my friends, I was really very sad.
To ease my mood, I went to the bar alone and drank a lot of alcohol.
That man was someone I met at the bar, and I don't even remember what he looks like.
Now I can hear the sound of running water, which is him taking a shower in the bathroom.
I slowly opened my eyes.
This is a luxurious guest room, the morning sun shining on the messy bedsheets, underwear, clothes, and shoes scattered on the carpet.
I looked down at the clear hickeys on my naked body under the blanket, and a dull pain coming from down there.
All of this is reminding me of how intense it was between that strange man and me last night.
I grasped my long hair tightly, some fragmented memories flooding into my mind, almost all of them being me pinned down by the man, being pounded into violently.
I have to admit, the man has good skills...
Oh no, this is not the time to think about that.
I've never had an experience of sleeping with a stranger before, and right now I don't know how to face all of this.
Maybe I should run away now, before he notices me.
I got up from the bed, put my clothes on, grabbed my bag and headed for the door.
But at that moment, the bathroom door opened.
A super handsome guy walked out of the bathroom.
He had lush golden hair and a dashing face; through his loose bathrobe, one could vaguely see his sexy, muscular chest.
My heart raced uncontrollably.
This man was far better-looking than my scumbag ex-boyfriend.
Images of us making love last night floated through my mind - he was holding me, caressing me, kissing me... My cheeks instantly turned hot.
I shook my head, forcing myself not to think about those scenes anymore. To calm down quickly, I fanned myself with my hands, but it was no use at all.
In contrast to my agitation, the man appeared utterly composed.
When I looked at him, I could feel his gaze sizing me up from head to toe, as if appraising an object.
Then I saw a sneer on his lips, an expression of disdain. How dare he look at me like that?
At that moment, he suddenly walked to the bedside and reached for his Gucci wallet.
I saw a thick wad of dollars inside, and I immediately sobered up.
What did this mean? Was he paying me for sleeping with him?
Is he treating me like a prostitute?
How insulting!
I decided to fight back!
I immediately took out the only $150 I had from my bag and threw it on the bedsheet before he could.
Feigning composure, I folded my arms across my chest, looked up at him, and said in a dismissive tone, "Although you're very handsome, your stamina is poor and your technique is lousy, so that's all you're worth!"
I said that on purpose because facing a man who wanted to humiliate me, I didn't want to reveal that I only had this little bit of money.
"What did you say?" the man demanded angrily.
My heart sank - I couldn't take those words back now that I'd said them.
So no matter how awkward my heart felt at the moment, I still had to force myself to stay calm.
To make it look even more convincing, I walked up and patted his shoulder, saying in a very serious tone: "I suggest you start by offering a discount to gain some experience. Once your skills improve, you can definitely raise your prices!"
After saying that, I turned and left, at a very quick pace.
As I was hurriedly fleeing, I could faintly hear the man's angry roar: "Damn it!"
I knew I had angered that man...
