Olivia Sparks

"Oh. My. God." Emily's hand flew to her c.h.e.s.t, mouthing the words. Her eyes were as big as saucers, her head foggy from what transpired inside the hotel room.

"Wait a minute," Olivia held a finger up, bumping into Emily as she stormed inside the bedroom.

"Say cheese, d.i.c.khead!"

Wyatt squinted when a flash hit his eyes, blinding him. He was seething in rage that it felt as if he could break the wooden poles in half. 

When she saw veins pop on Wyatt's forehead, Olivia sprinted out of the room, locking the door behind her.

"Shit!" Emily cursed. "Who has the key card?"

Olivia's hand flew to her mouth. "Fudge. I think I dropped it inside. Why?"

"There's no housekeeping door tag..." Emily pointed at the doorknob.

Three pairs of eyes darted from one pair to another until the hallway was filled with t.h.i.g.h-slapping laughter.

They left with arms linked, and never looked back at the door. Who cares how long it would take for somebody to find Wyatt tied up on a pole?

The ladies found themselves back in the hotel suite they booked earlier. Feeling festive, the gal pals drank alcohol like it was their night job.

"Oooooops! Wait, wait, Ava. Let Emily 'open doors' from now on for good luck. Okay?" Olivia grinned like a Cheshire cat, her eyes twinkled with mischief and mayhem. Ava had a bad feeling her sister-in-law did something out of the box again so she couldn't help but trail Emily who was giggling the entire walk to the suite's door.

"Yes… Officer?" Emily straightened up, smelling her breath just in case. Did Wyatt escape the hotel room? She blinked once… and twice, thinking of the endless possibilities why a police officer was standing outside their suite.

"Sorry to interrupt your party, madam. But we received noise complaints from the staff."

Holding up his tactical light, the officer entered the room, interrogating the ladies. To Ava's surprise, two more officers followed.

Emily and Ava's armpits started to sweat, and the spirit of alcohol in their system dissipated into thin air.

Reaching the living area, Emily noticed the officer checking the crevices of the sofa. "We don't do drugs if you're looking for it."

Ava hastened her steps, clutching on Emily's arm. "I think we should call Ollie." She was a second away from dialing her husband's number when the officer turned on his heel, surprising the two ladies.

They landed on the sofa, their heads pulsated on impact that they squinted and g.r.o.a.n.e.d to relieve themselves.

"Sir… promise," Emily raised her hand, palm facing the officer. "We just had a little too much alcohol. We don't do drugs. We're good girls."

"Good girls, you say," the officer trailed off before a ripping sound filled the room.

Emily and Olivia cackled, clutching their bellies. Ava, on the other hand, covered her eyes for a split second before peeping at the crevice of her two fingers.

Right in front of them were three officers, don in nothing but black thongs and batons, much to the girl's satisfaction.

~Gotta be compatible

Takes me to my limits

Girl when I break you off

I promise that you won't want to get off~

While the three officers gave Ava and Emily the l.a.p dance of their lives, Olivia went bonkers and stood on top of the coffee table, raining dollar bills on her gal pals while laughing as if there's no tomorrow. 

~If you're horny, let's do it, ride it, my pony

My saddle's waiting, come and jump on it~

Ava tried to avert her gaze, but the bulges on the officer's c.h.e.s.t were calling out her name.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Seven. Wait? Did she skip a number? Okay. She stopped counting when the abs counting turned into a chore, so she shifted her gaze straight to the deep V that disappeared the lower her eyes went. "Sweetie, I'm sorry," she whispered, her eyes tightly shut as if in deep prayer.

Just as the party was getting hotter, the door in their suite slammed open.

"GET OFF MY WIFE YOU A.S.SHOLE!!!" Oliver roared across the room, cutting the gal pal's party short.

"No, sweetie. I didn't count his abs, it's only eight. I swear," Ava stuttered, pushing the officer away and bolting to her husband—if that's what she felt that she did.

In Oliver's inferno eyes, he saw his sweetie wobble like a jellyfish to him, catching her in his arms. "Olivia! You've got some explaining to do," he said through gritted teeth, following Ava when she made a dash to the bathroom to free up some space in her stomach.

It didn't take long before Maxen strolled inside, scratching the skin above his eyebrow. A displeased look painted his face.

"Your Highness," the three strippers bowed, shaking on their spot. They tried to keep their heads low to avoid the piercing icicles in Maxen's stare. 

Earlier, they received a generous payment to a late night gig. Little did they know these ladies belong to families they never fathom ever brushing shoulders with. 

"You're dismissed." Maxen smiled, yet the dancers knew the prince was holding in his temper when the curve of his lips never reached his eyes, so they scurried out and away from the hotel, disregarding the dollar bills on the floor.

Finding his way to his baby, Maxen rolled his tongue over his teeth when she flicked a hundred-dollar bill to his face. "Handsome. I like. Whooosh." More dollar bills flew in the air, along with Olivia's giggles.

"This is not funny, baby. It's very unlike you." Maxen bit his lower lip to keep himself from smiling because he's supposed to be mad—at least he was just a while ago—but Olivia's too cute so he had to play the part of an angry man to tease her a little.

"What the heck, Maxen! You're such a party pooper." Emily grabbed another bottle of amber liquid, drinking it straight from its mouth.

He was about to reply when Olivia started to hiccup, her whole body shaking from the intensity. Soon the three gal pals found themselves in one of the bedrooms with two queen-size beds.

A passed out Ava and Emily were hugging each other on one of the beds, while Olivia and Maxen shared one.

"I like this… slumber parteeeeh," Olivia said in half-hooded eyes and sleepy voice. She felt Maxen put something under her pillow before succ.u.mbing to calm and slumber.

To Maxen's surprise, Emily was trailing behind him as he left the bedroom.

They reached the living area, and she pushed a piece of paper towards Maxen.

Swallowing nothing in her parched throat, she said, "Wyatt's in that room. We forgot to hang the housekeeping door tag so...if you could go and hang that out for me."

"Are you okay?" Oliver asked through the rim of his whiskey glass. He did a quick scan of the room earlier and his eye lingered on a particular sash. Single AF. These ladies sure know how to party hard when they're left on their own. As the saying goes, when the cat's away, the mouse will play.

"I'm too tired to explain. And don't go with Oliver. God knows what he'll do to him."

"Do you want to make a bet, Em? Maxen will be the first one to land a punch on Wyatt's face." He scoffed. Why do they always paint him as the bad guy?

Emily tsked and shooed the boys away, giving them a forced smile. Just as Emily closed the door, Maxen stopped her. He stepped back inside and hugged Emily, to which Oliver followed suit. 

"I'm okay. I will be fine. Don't worry about me. Just go. Go." She pushed the two boys out as quick as possible so they wouldn't see her ugly cries.

The two men found themselves at a crossroads upon arriving at Shibumi Hotel. Seeing their best friend in that state made them question where their brotherhood lies.

Judging by the severity of Wyatt's punishment, Maxen knew it was best to bid as they were told and leave the tag outside.

"What happened, Brother?" Maxen heard Ollie ask Wyatt after freeing him from the ball gag in his mouth.

"Where's Emily? Have you seen her? We need to sort this out. Ollie. Maxen. Please help me off this."

Oliver turned his head where Maxen was, his hands dipped inside his pocket.

"Tell us what happened first," Oliver urged, his tone was interrogating. 

"She baited me to pick up a transgender in a bar and then when we got here, the guy f.u.c.k.i.n.g toyed with me while Emily watched." Wyatt sighed, leaving out the other horrible things that Rica did to him.

"Why would she do that to you? Have you done something besides...uhm... getting caught with a transgender?" Oliver scratched the back of his head, unable to comprehend the scenario before him.

"Uncuff me first, Ollie," Wyatt barked.

"Why would I? You haven't answered my question yet." Oliver shrugged.

"Is this your pay back, Ollie? Huh? Because You can never have Emily?"

In a blink of an eye, Wyatt's face whipped to the side and his mouth pooled blood on impact.