Chapter 1 Chapter 1

Martha's POV

It was Friday evening around 7pm. The rain started falling heavily when I closed from my job as a waitress at Silver's Restaurant, a magnificent two-story building in Sun City.

I rushed to the roadside, stopped a taxi, and hopped into the rear seat.

I gave the taxi driver my father's home address, and he started the car and drove off.

Upon arriving home, I paid my fare, climbed out of the taxi, and dashed through the magnificent black gate as the rain drenched my body.

When I reached the veranda, I pressed the doorbell and waited. Then my stepmother, Sandra Roger, pulled the door open.

Sandra stood there, dressed in a dazzling blue night dress that hugged her body like a second skin and paired with black slippers. She frowned upon seeing me return early.

Thunder struck as soon as I shut the door behind me. The heavy downpour had drenched my body.

The clock showed 8pm, and I greeted her, "Good evening, Mom."

"Martha, why are you home so early?" Sandra asked as she glared at me.

Looking at her frowned face, I asked, "What sort of question is that? This is my father's house, and I can return home whenever I like."

"Oh sure," Sandra replied with a smile and moved back to sit on the couch. I knew that she disliked me and only pretended to marry into my family. But after her marriage to my father, she treated me poorly until he died two years ago.

I had to live with Sandra because my father's will stated that he gave the whole house to me, while Sandra and her daughter, Elena, stole the company.

Ignoring my stepmother, I rushed upstairs to my room to change out of my wet clothes. But as I neared the door, intense groaning and moaning froze me in place.

"Ah, Mark! Fụck!" I heard Elena's voice crying as the man rode her to ecstasy.

My fist clenched at how Elena moaned like a lunatic. Can't she take her boyfriend to a hotel? Why did she bring him here to our father's house? Can't she show a little respect for our late father?

I wanted to ignore Elena because I am four years older than her.

I am 24 years old, and she is 20. However, I heard Elena cry again, "Fụck me harder, Mark!"

I froze.

Who was Mark?

Was he my fiancé, Mark Elliott?

I wanted to ignore them, thinking there were many Marks, and no fuckìng way Mark Elliott would be the man with my shameless sister. But I heard Elena's comment, "Mark, do you enjoy having sex with Martha like with me?"

"Fụck it, Elena. Martha has a dry pụssy, and I don't enjoy anything. She is too skinny and lacks the plump boobs and soft áss like you."

"What?" My fist clenched as I spun around to face Elena's room door, and I heard her comment.

"Aww... I am glad that you know our differences. How about your engagement to Martha? Aren't you going to call it off? You cannot marry her over me," Elena purred as Mark drove into her. The sounds of his moans echoed in the corridor as her pụssy made squelching sounds.

"Don't worry. I am only getting married to Martha to take over your father's company. Do not forget that your mother stated that your father left everything in Martha's name, if not for the fact that she deceived Martha into believing your father left only the house for her."

"What?" I gasped, blood draining from my face as I heard their discussion. I couldn't bring myself to pull the door open and face them.

Elena's door stood slightly open, and I spun around to leave the house, only to see my stepmother standing in the corridor with a large pestle in her hands.

"Martha, your time is up, and you cannot take everything away from my daughter and me." Sandra raised the pestle to smash it on me, but I dodged her attack and pushed her to the ground.

"Ahh!" Sandra gasped as she landed on her buttọcks.

After hearing that Sandra changed my father's will to suit her preference, I jumped on her and smacked her face multiple times.

"Martha, how dare you?" Sandra shrieked, and Elena's room door flew open.

Elena and Mark shamelessly darted out of her room naked and looked stunned to see Sandra on the ground, after I smacked her ten times for changing my father's will.

Who knows if Sandra had a hand in my father's mysterious death two years ago.

"Martha, how dare you lay your filthy hands on my mother?" Elena growled at me, but I glared at her in disgust.

"You shameless slut. Riding my ex, and you think you will be better than me or get my inheritance? Only in your dreams." I spun around and left the house, knowing that I cannot stay there with them.

Before I left the corridor, Mark called out to me, "Martha, you cannot leave this city. Know that we already scheduled our marriage, and whether you like it or not, you must marry me!"

"Only in your dreams. I will never marry an ásshole and cheap dog like you!" I cursed at Mark, before I left the corridor.

Tears flooded down my cheeks as I made my way outside the duplex my father owned. The house used to be peaceful until my Dad married that evil witch.

Clenching my fist, I hurried out of the house, leaving everything behind. I will be back for them, so I made my way to the road to get a cab.

The rain poured down heavily on me as I found a taxi.

"To Dennis Hotel," I said, because it was getting late. I had nowhere to go. My relatives lost interest in me after my mother's death.

They blame me for her death because they preferred I should have died in her place instead of her having me as her baby. She died during her labor.

Wiping the sobs away from my cheeks, I looked out of the window. The money I had could barely sustain me.

When the taxi arrived at the hotel, I got out, paid the taxi driver, and made my way into the hotel.

Dennis Hotel is a popular brothel in town, and I wanted to spend the night there to cheat on Mark and forget those mean words he said about me.

When I entered the hotel lobby, the two receptionists peered at me and frowned.

"Hey, miss. What are you doing here all soaked up?" One of them asked, and I drew a deep breath.

"I want a night with any available rich man. How much will you pay me?"

"Haha!" The two receptionists laughed at my broken state.

"You're too skinny to attract any client. So go out and look for another hotel or brothel to satisfy your fantasy," they dismissed me, but I remained clearly determined to show them that I am not one to give up easily.

If I don't get the money to get my stepmother arrested, then I will be the one at a loss.

"I am serious, and I am not leaving this brothel. Please…" I stripped off my wet blue dress that I had worn to work that morning.

"Hey! What are you doing?" One receptionist growled at me as she walked out from behind her desk.

"Let her go!" A deep voice startled me, and I turned to see who it was.

A group of five men in black ensembles walked into the hotel lobby. The one who spoke had golden-colored eyes that sent chills cascading down my spine.

I hadn't seen any human with such eye color before.

"Welcome, sir. We are just trying to make our hotel a conducive environment. What do you want?" The female receptionist in a white top and short black skirt who wanted to chase me out, asked the most formidable man who walked in to meet us.