Jessica

Delilah trudged into her penthouse, her heels clicking softly against the polished marble floor.

The penthouse was a testament to her successful career and hustle. Sleek modern furniture, abstract art pieces on the walls, and large windows offering a breathtaking view of the city skyline.

Her living space which usually gave her joy, did little to calm her racing mind. Not when she felt like she was trapped in a nightmare she couldn't wake up from.

As she headed towards her bedroom, the door to the guest room opened, and her younger sister, Jessica, stepped out, wearing a soft, oversized sweater and leggings, her bare feet padding quietly on the floor.

One look at Jessica's appearance, and Delilah could tell that she had spent the night weeping as usual. Her green eyes which were identical to hers, were puffy and her long blond hair was tousled.

"Where have you been, D?" Jessica's voice was a mixture of relief and concern. "I tried calling you all night. I was worried sick."

Delilah sighed, avoiding her sister's gaze. She was ashamed of herself for adding to her sister's troubles when she was supposed to be comforting her younger sister who was still mourning the loss of her husband.

"I'm sorry, Jess. I don't think I have a good enough explanation for you. You don't look so good," Delilah said, choosing to focus on her sister rather than herself.

"You could have at least texted. I was worried something had happened to you." Jessica said, not wanting Delilah to change the subject so easily.

Delilah felt a pang of guilt, "I know, and I'm sorry, Jess. Trust me, I had the craziest morning of my life, else I would have remembered to check in with you. I just need to freshen up and think about my life for a bit. Can we talk later?"

Jessica's expression softened, and she nodded reluctantly, sensing the turmoil her sister was in. "Okay, but are you fine? Did something happen?" Jessica asked, looking her over.

"Physically, I'm okay. I just need to figure some stuff out," Delilah said and Jessica sighed.

"I'm here when you're ready to talk."

"Thanks, Jess." Delilah managed a small smile, "And like I said, you don't look so good."

"I'm fine. Worry about yourself," Jessica said, and Delilah sighed deeply before heading to her bedroom.

As she walked through the door, the room's familiarity offered a brief moment of solace. The king-sized bed with its plush comforter, the soft lighting from the bedside lamps, and the faint smell of her favorite perfume all served as a reminder of her carefully constructed life.

She dropped her purse and phone on the dresser, and slipped off her shoes before making her way to the en-suite bathroom.

Turning on the shower, she let the steam fill the room. She undressed slowly, feeling the weight of the morning's events pressing down on her.

Naked, she stood in front of the mirror staring at her reflection in the mirror which was gradually becoming covered by steam.

She touched her body, and turned around to see if there were any signs that she had sex the night before, but there was none. Down there didn't feel like any activity had taken place either, she mused.

She also remembered that she had woken up still completely dressed, that meant that Blake did not have sex with her. The thought that he had not touched her in her drunken state, relieved her a great deal.

"Maybe he isn't completely hopeless, after all," she muttered to herself as she went to stand under the shower.

The hot water cascaded over her body, washing away the remnants of her night out and the confusion that still lingered.

Was it possible that she had been careless enough to take alcohol when she had gone to the club for such an important mission? Had she been drugged?

She closed her eyes, trying to piece together the fragments of her memory, but it was like trying to catch smoke with her bare hands.

When she finally emerged from the shower, she wrapped herself in a fluffy towel and stepped out of the steam-filled bathroom.

Standing in front of her, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were wide with anxiety, and her usually composed demeanor was shattered. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

She picked up her phone which she was yet to check since she woke up that morning, and she saw all the missed calls from both Jessica and Mark.

Immediately she dialed Mark's line, "Hey, where have you been, D? I was just thinking of sending out a search party," Mark said the moment he received her call.

"I'm sorry. I've been… occupied. I need you to do me a quick favor, Mark."

"Anything. Tell me," Mark urged her.

"I need you to look into someone. His name is Blake. Blake Davies," she said, remembering the name she had seen on the certificate.

"Blake Davies. Who is he? I thought our focus is supposed to be on Hunter Quinn for the time being?"

"Yeah. Our focus is still on Hunter. But I need a quick but thorough background search on this Blake guy. Can you do that for me?" Delilah asked impatiently.

"Sure. I will look into it and get back to you. So, how did last night go? Were you able to sniff out the elusive Hunter Quinn?" Mark asked curiously.

Too embarrassed to tell him that she couldn't remember what had happened the night before and had ended up married to a stranger, Delilah forced a laugh, "He wouldn't have the reputation he has if I found him out so easily, would he? I will be needing more information."

Mark chuckled, "I guess you're right. Alright. I will do a little more digging. And I will get back to you on the Blake guy…"

"Can I get feedback on this Blake guy in twenty-four hours?" She asked hopefully.

"Twenty-four hours? C'mon, D. That's not enough time…"

"If it wasn't important I wouldn't ask you for this. I know if anyone can do it, you can do it. Help me find out who he is that's all I'm asking," Delilah pleaded.

"Alright. I will see what I can do," Mark said before hanging up.

Delilah desperately hoped that Mark would find something on Blake. She needed something that would enable her pull out of her arrangement with him.

She desperately wanted to be able to shut the door in his face when he shows up tomorrow.