"If I knew he'd be the one to destroy me, I wouldn't have let him touch me.
But God… that night, I burned for him."
The music throbbed like a heartbeat in the dimly lit underground club—luxury laced with danger. A haze of smoke curled around the chandeliers, laughter echoing in foreign tongues, glasses clinking over whispered threats and expensive lies.
Aria Voss didn't belong here. Not in this dress. Not in this life. But tonight wasn't about belonging. Tonight was about forgetting.
She tipped back the last of her drink, the tequila burning her throat the way memories burned her soul. She was tired of revenge. Of pretending. Of waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Tonight… she just wanted to feel something.
And then he walked in.
Tall. Built like sin itself. Sharp jaw. Black button-down hugging his frame like it had been stitched onto his skin. Cold eyes that scanned the room like he owned every secret in it. Women turned. Men stepped aside.
Aria's breath caught in her throat.
She didn't know his name. Didn't want to. He was danger wrapped in velvet. And when his eyes—gray, almost silver under the low light—locked on her, she swore the air left the room.
One nod. That's all it took.
She stood. Her legs moved before her mind caught up. They met in the middle of the chaos, unspoken tension thick enough to strangle.
"You don't look like you belong here," he said, voice like whiskey—dark and smooth.
"Neither do you," she replied, her lips curling into something between a smirk and a dare.
"You here alone?"
"Are you?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he reached for her hand, his touch sending a jolt straight to her spine. "Come with me."
She did.
---
The private suite upstairs was all black marble and gold. Soundproofed. Sealed. Expensive enough to scream danger without a word.
He pushed the door shut behind them, locking it with a soft click. Aria's heart pounded.
They didn't speak. Didn't ask questions. Their silence said everything.
He pressed her against the wall, his body warm and solid, his scent—dark cologne and something purely him—flooding her senses. She gasped as his lips crashed into hers, teeth grazing her lower lip, hand gripping her waist like he was afraid she'd vanish.
Clothes came off like second skin.
His hands roamed her body like he owned every inch—yet touched her like she was breakable. Precious. His mouth trailed fire across her collarbone, down her chest, lips whispering sin into her skin.
Her dress pooled at her ankles.
His shirt hit the floor.
His mouth met hers again—hungrier this time. Tongues tangling, breathless moans swallowed by kisses.
"You're so fucking soft," he growled against her throat, lifting her with ease and pinning her to the wall.
Her legs wrapped around his waist.
The tension snapped.
And then—
Heat.
Friction.
Ecstasy that stole her breath and shredded her thoughts.
---
To be continued in Part 2...