The city never slept, but tonight, it pulsed with a reckless kind of hunger the same kind that lived in Selena Cruz's veins. Her heels clicked against the marble floors of the Kane International skyscraper, echoing like a drumbeat of defiance through the empty lobby. Past midnight, and she was still here. Again.
The guards barely acknowledged her anymore. They knew the routine. So did she.
The elevator doors opened with a low chime, and she stepped inside, alone, the scent of her own perfume jasmine and danger filling the small space. She hit the button for the top floor and exhaled, bracing herself. Not for what was to come, but for what it meant. Because when you're the mistress of Adrian Kane, nothing ever comes without a cost.
When the elevator opened into the CEO's private suite, the lights were dim, casting long shadows across the sleek modern furniture. And there he was Adrian towering in the corner office, backlit by the city skyline, one hand gripping a tumbler of whiskey, the other tucked in his pocket like he was hiding something. Maybe his guilt. Maybe his wedding ring.
"Late night," Selena murmured, her voice silk-wrapped steel.
He turned. And just like always, his eyes found her like magnets blue, sharp, filled with a thousand unspoken things. "Couldn't sleep."
She stepped inside, letting the glass door whisper shut behind her. "Neither could I."
They didn't need small talk. Their bodies spoke in a language older than loyalty. He crossed the room in five long strides, his hands gripping her waist, his mouth finding hers like a man starved. His lips bruised hers, urgent and commanding, but she met him with equal hunger. Her hands roamed under his shirt, nails grazing skin, drawing a hiss from his throat.
This was their dance: lust tangled with unspoken emotion. She pulled his shirt off and pushed him back onto the sleek leather couch. Adrian watched her with a kind of reverent desperation as she straddled him, her dress falling from her shoulders like a silken sigh.
"You're playing a dangerous game, Adrian," she whispered against his lips, trailing kisses down his neck.
"I always do," he rasped.
She kissed lower, her lips brushing his chest as her hands unbuckled his belt. He groaned, low and guttural, as she explored him with her mouth, each motion deliberate, reverent, like worship. Adrian's hands threaded through her hair, guiding her, trembling with restraint. And when she finally rose, positioning herself above him again, they met in a slow, aching rhythm.
Clothes disappeared like secrets, piece by piece, until nothing remained between them but need. The air crackled as their bodies collided skin on skin, breath for breath, a fierce kind of love that hurt as much as it healed. Adrian's hands worshipped her curves like they were holy. Selena moaned softly as he moved inside her, slow and deep, savoring every gasp and tremble.
He whispered her name like a prayer, his breath hot against her neck. She wrapped herself around him, clutching him as though he could save her. But they both knew he wouldn't. He couldn't.
Afterward, he carried her to the bedroom tucked behind a hidden panel in the office wall. A space that wasn't supposed to exist, but did for her. The sheets were soft, the room warm, the only light coming from the city beyond the glass. She lay sprawled against him, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw.
"Do you ever think about us?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I try not to."
"Why?"
"Because it makes it real."
Her heart stung at the honesty. "It is real."
He didn't respond, only pulled her closer. And in the silence, she felt the weight of everything they weren't saying.
She kissed him again, softer this time. Not out of lust, but longing. It deepened, slow and tender, a contrast to the earlier frenzy. He rolled her beneath him, his mouth exploring her body like he was memorizing her. This time, they moved together with a different kind of intensity less hunger, more ache. When he came, it was with her name on his lips and his forehead pressed against hers.
Later, Selena lay naked on the cool leather couch again, the city lights painting gold across her skin. Adrian leaned over her, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"You'll never leave her," she said quietly.
"No."
"Then why am I still here?"
His eyes searched hers. "Because I need you."
She laughed, bitter and soft. "That's not love, Adrian."
"No. It's worse."
She rose, wrapping herself in his shirt, and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Below, the city pulsed like a living thing, but inside her, something else stirred. The dull ache in her stomach wasn't just from passion. It was deeper. Heavier.
"Do you love her?" she asked, voice low.
Adrian came up behind her, placing his hands on her bare hips. "I owe her. For everything."
That wasn't the answer she needed. But it was all she would get.
...
The next morning came with cruel sunlight and crueler thoughts. Selena stood in her apartment bathroom, staring at the pregnancy test in her hand like it had personally betrayed her. Two pink lines. No mistake.
"Shit."
She sank onto the closed toilet lid, the weight of the result crushing her chest. Adrian would lose everything if this got out. She could lose more.
Memories of last night's heat clashed with this morning's chill. How could something so intoxicating leave such a bitter aftertaste?
She touched her lower belly, emotion storming behind her eyes. It wasn't just about Adrian. It was about the pieces of herself she had surrendered, the war between what she wanted and what she deserved.
A knock at the door jolted her. She hid the test in the drawer, wiped her face, and opened the door.
Detective Jace Monroe stood there, badge glinting, eyes assessing. Broad-shouldered, unshaven, dangerous.
"Ms. Cruz?"
"Yes?"
"Mind if I ask you a few questions about Adrian Kane?"
Her heart stopped. "What about him?"
"There's been a report of corporate theft. And someone's pointing fingers."
She stepped aside to let him in, but her thoughts were already racing. Secrets had a way of rotting from the inside and hers were starting to bleed through the cracks.
As Jace stepped into her space, Selena realized something else: danger didn't always look like a man with a gun. Sometimes, it wore a badge and a crooked smile.
And sometimes, it looked a lot like fate.