Chapter 2 Beginning

Sloane's Pov Twenty Four Years Later

I made the music so high that if I had neighbours, they would have called the security on me. I lost myself in the rhythm as I danced. I didn't want to hear or see anything apart from Derek, my boyfriend who stared at me as I danced. I loved the way his lustful gaze followed my every move. It boosted my ego whenever he looked at me like he didn't want to look elsewhere. But then, I wasn't dancing because I wanted Derek to look at me, I danced because I was happy. Last night's memories unfolded in my head and it made me happy. I thought of how I made Luka scream my name continuously. I thought of how well I satisfied him at the hotel last night and it made me happy. I felt a bit guilty that, after I cheated on my boyfriend, Derek with Luka, I still had the courage to dance in front of him like nothing happened. But that was me. I couldn't live without men fawning over me. The fact that I could satisfy any man I came in contact with, gave me immense joy. It made me feel superior. I only had a one night stand with Luka, though. We weren't dating and I wasn't planning to date him. Not now, not ever. Even if I knew that Luka had feelings for me. All my one night stands always had lingering feelings for me. I turned to Derek and I realised that he wasn't looking at me anymore. He looked at his phone instead. I rolled my eyes. Was his phone more important than me now? I was about to make a snarky comment on how he looked at his phone instead of me, when he suddenly asked; "Sloane, what's this?" He showed me his phone. I didn't have to look closely to know what it was. I put off the loud music. An article, concerning my love life had been posted. Once again! Damn the paparazzi! Apparently, a photo of I and Luka, leaving the hotel had been taken and some journalists who were obsessed with me, had written a long, scandalous article about me. I was done for. I couldn't let Derek break up with me because of this article. I had to be the one to dump him first. I didn't betray an emotion as I  met Derek's cold gaze. "Who's this guy and why are you coming out of a hotel with him?" He's the guy I slept with, obviously. I resisted the urge to say that to him and roll my eyes. Instead, I sat on the sofa, next to him. "Baby, you shouldn't mind these things. They're trying to tarnish my reputation" I placed my hand on his chest, which happened to be bare, and I began to stroke. I could tell that he liked it. I always had my way with him. "That guy in the picture is my friend from college. We just had a little reunion" in a hotel room where I satisfied him to the point that he lost his voice from moaning my name. I didn't add that part. I couldn't risk a premature break up with Derek. It wasn't time to dump him yet. "They're a lot of girls out there who want my life" I added, to my benefit. "They want to be as famous as I am but they can't. And because they can't, they keep on publishing scandalous and malignant articles about me, out of jealousy. They can't break me, though. I'm the only one of me. They can't get a supermodel as perfect as I am" I brought my face close to Derek's as I declared with an air of arrogance "... and you can't get a girlfriend as perfect as I am" ****************** It was an hour or so, after Derek saw my article and I effectively convinced him that I was wrongly accused, that I heard the car honk. I had stayed snuggled up to Derek, that I didn't know when time passed. The car now passed through my gate. Maybe it was someone I knew. I tried to get up from Derek's body but his strong arm held me still. He obviously didn't want to let me go. "I have a visitor" I whispered to him as I smiled. "I'll go see who it is. I'll be back" I planted a kiss on his cheek and I got up. He didn't try to stop me this time. I smiled as I thought of how clingy Derek was. I could never cling to a man at all, they were the ones who clung to me. Distracted, I didn't bother to check who it was at my door. I unlocked and opened it. As I saw who it was, my hand slowly slipped from the door handle as I let out a shocked gasp. This was an example of worst timing. I couldn't believe who it was.