Married to the Rowlands

~Kendall's POV~

"Hell, no," I muttered.

It was Claire-Conrad's secretary. Of all people, it had to be her. She stood there in a perfectly fitted dress. My stomach clenched as I froze, trying to process her presence.

She looked up, her smile faltering for a moment. "Oh, Kendall, hey," she said, acting like this was a casual encounter. My pulse quickened as I stepped closer. "Claire. What a surprise. I didn't expect to see you here... especially after what you did."

She smiled awkwardly. "What do you mean?"

I let out a hollow, bitter laugh. "I just found out you've been sleeping with my boyfriend." She opened her mouth to speak, but I felt a presence behind me. I turned to see Conrad, his face a mix of confusion and panic. "Ken, what... what are you doing here?" he asked, his voice unsteady.

"What am I doing here?" I repeated, my voice rising. "I'm talking to your secretary-the one you cheated on me with." His eyes widened, like a deer caught in headlights.

"Kendall, can we talk about this somewhere else?" he asked, glancing around nervously.

"Forget it! I don't care, Conrad! You can have an amazing life with this slut!" I shouted. For a moment, everything froze. "And I'm getting married, you jerk," I said, walking out of the club.

I stared at the streetlights, feeling numb. I shook my head, hoping to wake up from this nightmare. Conrad was my everything-the love of my life.

"Rough night?" a voice said. I turned to see the mysterious guy from earlier leaning against the wall.

"You could say that," I replied, managing a weak smile. He stepped closer, his voice low and smooth. "Are you okay?" he asked.

I nodded, avoiding eye contact. "Why don't we get out of here? I know a bar downtown. No strings, just to forget everything for a while." I knew it was reckless to go with a stranger, and I didn't want to leave Sophie, but I needed a distraction. "Okay," I said, surprising myself. "Let's go."

At the bar, I drank heavily, trying to drown my sorrows. He tried to calm me down, but I ignored him. With each drink, the weight of the night faded away. The last thing I remembered was passing out at the bar.

...

"Where am I? Whose bed is this? What happened last night?" I whispered, lifting the duvet and realizing I was unclothed underneath. Confused and groggy, with a nasty hangover, I searched for my phone. It was on the stool by the bed, buzzing with missed calls and messages from my dad and Sophie.

"Gosh, it's 10 a.m.," I muttered, rubbing my head. I spotted my clothes on the couch, grabbed them, and headed to the bathroom. "Did I just have a one-night stand?" I whispered, dreading the thought. "This better be a dream."

I quickly dressed, packed my things, and left the hotel room. At the reception, I dropped off the key, hoping I'd never see him again. As I stepped outside, I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the night.

"Oh, you're up. I was about to check on you," a familiar voice said. I turned and froze. It was him-the guy from last night. Embarrassed, I quickly looked away, wishing I could disappear.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he walked right in front of me. Suddenly, memories from last night at the bar rushed back. I recalled him saying he was taking me home.

"I'm fine, but why did you bring me to a hotel when you said you'd take me home?" I asked, struggling to piece it all together.

"Well, you insisted when we got to my car. You cried and begged me not to take you home. Don't you remember?" he replied. Wait, I did what? Embarrassment tightened in my chest. I bit my lip and looked down. Why would I do that to a stranger?

"Did... did I do that?" I stammered.

"Yes. You begged, so I brought you here. Then you asked to drink more, and soon you were all over me. You put your-"

"Enough," I cut him off, my face burning with shame. He giggled, which annoyed me.

"But you knew I was drunk. Why did you take advantage of me?" I asked, arms crossed.

He stopped laughing, his expression turning serious. "Take advantage? I didn't force you. You willingly had sex with me," he replied, smugly.

"Not really. I wouldn't have if I weren't drunk. You could've left, but you chose to stay. That's on you," I said firmly.

"Look, I just tried to help. Sure, I found you pretty, and maybe I just..." he trailed off, scratching his neck.

"Forget it. You should be glad I'm not pressing charges. Do you even know who my father is? If I were you, I'd disappear before I change my mind!" I cut him off.

"Hey, I don't want any trouble. I'll go and never bother you again," he said, grabbing his jacket and leaving.

"Better," I sighed, stepping out of the hotel. Suddenly, I heard a loud car horn. I turned to see a speeding car heading straight for me. My knees went weak, and my mind went blank.

I collapsed onto the road, bracing for impact. But the car screeched to a stop, just inches away. It was a sleek, black car-familiar, but I couldn't place it.

"I'm so sorry," said the man, stepping out in a black suit. I looked up, expecting to recognize him, but I didn't. Slowly, I gathered my things, dusting myself off.

"What if I'd been hit? Is 'sorry' all you've got?" I snapped, a frown forming.

"I'm truly sorry. Here, take this to cover any harm or loss," he said, pulling out a bundle of cash. I clenched my fists, disgusted. Typical-using money to make problems disappear.

"I don't need your money. Tell your boss he's lucky I'm in a rush," I said, walking away. The rich always think money solves everything-just like Tyler, the man I'm expected to marry.

I took a cab and headed home. As I reached my house, my phone rang.

"Hey, Sophie," I answered.

"I've been calling all night. Are you okay? Where were you?" she asked, sounding worried.

"Sorry, I was too tired to go home, so I slept at a motel nearby," I lied.

"Thank God, I was worried. Are you home now?" she said.

"Yes," I replied.

"Okay, I'll talk to you later then. I'm at work," she responded, ending the call.

I couldn't tell Sophie about the one-night stand. I felt bad for leaving her yesterday. After ending the call, I walked into the house, hoping to avoid my dad-I wasn't in the mood to face him after yesterday.

"Where have you been, Ken?" he asked, putting down his magazine.

"At Sophie's place, not that you care," I replied sarcastically.

"I do care. I know you're mad at me, but this is your chance to build something for yourself," he said, approaching me calmly.

"Dad, you're selling me to the Rowlands!" I exclaimed.

"No, you'll be in charge after the merger. Do this for me," he pleaded, gripping my hand.

At this point, I was tired of arguing. "Fine, but I need to sleep," I said, heading toward my room.

"Oh, by the way, we're going to Tyler's for dinner tonight to discuss your marriage. Be prepared," he added. A dinner? My heart raced. Suddenly, my phone beeped with a text from Conrad. "That bastard..." I thought