"Influencer Thief", that's the first sentence you read in the headline, what a strange and little devotion to myself, a woman who has been outraged and stripped naked by a criminal.
Civet coffee beans were in his hands along with that secret recipe, "what year is this?" I leave it to your imagination, but the only thing certain is that all is chaos on the planet. A transcendental gift that pierces any human being, a single grain would be exciting enough to enjoy a wonder. No one has dared to taste such a treasure, one so great and exquisite.
"He has stolen it." Nasty man, vehement, and confronting my own beauty, "who's the queen?" No one but me. The red carpet is laid and he used my great might to make himself a millionaire on the sly.
He calls himself an influencer, and a content creator, but the only thing true in all this is that simplistic degree of mind to deceive people solely for money. I fell for the manipulation of his words, I fell for his beauty, and the very alteration of my human emotions.
I saw him walking in that restaurant, he emanated a youthfulness that dominated the space and attracted me in a way that captivated and enveloped my being, "which being?" That one that uniquely surrounded the two of us intertwining.
A young millionaire girl, owner of a worldwide franchise, and a young man of 22 years of age, captivating, who enveloped all the women who crossed his path. His gaze, this gaze was the only one that was enveloped in a sinful posterio of allocutions where there was an avant-garde melody to dominate those girls who had everything, but were nothing.
"I was just as simplistic a woman."
"A pleasure my name is: Alphonse, Miss," he said with a sensual and seductive tone that little by little penetrated through my veins and made my blood ignite. Quickly, a smile on my face emerged: "Why should I tell you?", I answered.
I fell into his own game of words, those that he wanted from the beginning to steal everything, to make me his puppet and doll made woman, one that he could move. In that haste and the allocution of words he sketched: "Apparently his filautía, is abundant."
Quickly, my laughter came in an accelerated and pronounced way, totally permanent; so it was that between that pair of smiles I needed, we connected. Gradually WhatsApp messages became recurrent, outings to luxury stores, Ibiza, Paris and New York became our destination. "What could I ask for?"
Nothing I didn't want, I undressed him with my eyes, I took off his clothes with my hands, I could look at his beautiful eyelashes, eyes and his exciting body. That which was him, was totally mine, mine before the whole world and in bed.
He was so stoic, with his soft hands rubbing my body and making it feel like bubbles, bursting between each prick and penetration. Nipples rubbing, rubbing as our tongues met so well, until we were devouring each other completely.
"Who was better than him?" me, and more so when he repeated the following phrase: "We can do it again until dawn."
The reasoning was gone, gone so fast and he could do whatever he wanted. Credit cards, contracts, and handling something he had no experience in. He quickly took over everything on my own.
The gift of serendipity is something that neither of us can deny, something latent and that was presented as an omnipotence that pulsed in each of us.
This came to a momentous point in this morbid story, one that would become an epiphany that I could never avoid because it was momentous. He stole everything, stole my family secret outright, got rich and sold it to the highest bidder on the black market after profiting from it during our relationship.
He was really an apocryphal, a bestial one who smiled with the sole purpose of getting that coffee recipe while he rolled with me between the sheets of my bed, that's him, a simple traitor who with his hidden smile planned to take everything from me.
The same one I see today with handcuffs in his hands, begging for forgiveness that no one, no one will give him for the simple mortal sin of defrauding and taking what was not his. The truth comes out and more so when they lower their underpants only for money.
Today I lost a secret coffee recipe, but I also gained something you can't get every day: Justice, one that has made me see who the real me is.
Sources: Jesus Con S Silbada | Pexels | Nathan Dumlao| Unsplash | Jesus Con S Silbada | Pexels | Olya Prutskova| Pexels .
Design made in Canva: Link.