Adelina's POV
{This chapter has some explicit content so read own your risk. 18+}
I got ready slowly, carefully.
The dress I picked was a statement — soft white, delicate but deadly in its effect. It had thin spaghetti straps that barely held onto my shoulders, slipping ever so slightly as I moved. The off-shoulder puffed sleeves framed my arms like a whisper of rebellion, and the ruched bodice hugged my curves in all the right places. It was short — dangerously so — with a wispy, asymmetrical hemline that danced as I walked, showing just enough leg to command attention but leave something for the imagination.
I looked like a dream dipped in danger. And that's exactly how I wanted it.
My hair was styled in soft waves, cascading down my back, glossy and undone in the most calculated way. My heels — strappy, silver, and sky-high — clicked like a warning across the marble floor.
Lukas hadn't seen me yet.
Which was good… because I knew the moment he did, there would be fire.
I grabbed my clutch and just as I turned to leave, I heard it — footsteps. Heavy, controlled, and unmistakably his.
I didn't have to turn around to know he was watching. I could feel it. That burning stare that started at the back of my neck and traveled down my spine like a silent possession.
"You're not walking out like that," he said, voice low, rough, and laced with something dark.
I slowly turned, lips already curled in a smirk. "Why? Because I look good enough to cause a war?"
He didn't answer.
He didn't have to.
His jaw clenched, eyes devouring me with that possessive hunger he never bothered to hide. The white dress was a weapon, and I knew it. Every inch of me was temptation wrapped in silk — and he was seconds away from tearing it apart.
But I had business tonight.
Power to display. Board members to remind who ran this empire.
Still, part of me — the part that ached under his gaze — wanted to forget it all and let him ruin me against the nearest wall.
"I'll be fine, Lukas," I whispered, brushing past him.
He caught my wrist. "You wear that dress," he said, voice like a growl in my ear, "you better walk like you know I'll be watching your every step."
I leaned in, letting my lips hover just near his. "I hope you do."
And then I walked out—leaving his eyes blazing behind me.
Maybe I'll be ruined tonight.
And maybe… I won't care.
Because deep down, maybe I want to be ruined by him.
The thought lingered in my mind like a forbidden prayer as I stepped into the car. The night air was cool, but I felt heat blooming under my skin. His eyes were still on me — I didn't have to look back to know it. Lukas was the kind of man who didn't need to be seen to be felt.
And I knew him too well.
He wouldn't rest.He wouldn't sleep.He'd be behind me like a shadow — always one step too close, always one breath too near.
Because in his world, I belonged to him.
Not as a possession.Not as a contract.
But as an obsession.
And tonight, I was walking into danger — not the kind dressed in guns and business, but the kind dressed in silk sheets and promises whispered against bare skin.
As the club's neon lights came into view, my heart pounded for reasons that had nothing to do with the board meeting.
I could still feel the ghost of his touch on my wrist… still hear the hunger in his voice.
"You wear that dress, you better walk like you know I'll be watching your every step."
And oh, I knew.
He would come.
Whether it was in the middle of the meeting, at the afterparty, or in the shadows of my own suite — Lukas would come for me.
And maybe…Just maybe…
I wanted him to.
I sat in the private suite, legs crossed, fingers lightly tapping against the crystal glass in my hand. The low hum of voices filled the room — board members discussing expansion, sales, projections. I nodded, responded, led the conversation with elegance and precision.
But inside, I was spiraling.
Because I felt it.
That slow burn at the back of my neck.
Like eyes crawling over my skin. Not just anyone's eyes — his.
Lukas was here. Somewhere.
I didn't need confirmation. I didn't need to see him.
I just knew.
My gaze swept the room casually, but he wasn't in plain sight — and that made it worse. That made it more dangerous. I took another sip of wine, letting the cool burn distract me, but my heart wouldn't settle. It beat like a warning — like anticipation.
He was watching me.
And he was waiting for the right moment.
I straightened my back, letting my dress slide a little higher on my thigh, deliberately… because if he was watching — and he was — then I'd let him burn too. I crossed my legs slower this time, taking another sip as the board director droned on.
But I couldn't focus.
Not when I felt like I was on display for only one man in the world. My chest tightened at the thought of what he might do next. Crash the meeting? Whisper threats in my ear? Drag me out without a word?
I wouldn't put it past him.
Because this was Lukas — the man who didn't play fair, didn't ask permission, and certainly didn't share.
And tonight, I was playing a very, very dangerous game.
So I smiled politely at the table…While my body waited for the storm I knew was coming.
The meeting finally ended.
One by one, the board members filed out, offering polite nods, handshakes, fake smiles. I returned them all like a well-trained doll, perfectly put together — until the heavy doors clicked shut behind the last one.
Silence.
I exhaled sharply, the mask dropping from my face.
Still seated, I reached for my drink and downed the rest in one go, the taste bitter but familiar. I was a little tipsy now — just enough to feel the warmth blooming in my chest, enough to feel reckless… detached.
But I didn't care.
Because the worst thing wasn't the liquor.It was the memories.
The flashbacks I kept burying — broken pieces of my past that clawed their way up when the world got too quiet. Blood. Screams. My father's hand pulling me away. Lukas lying unconscious. Betrayals. Guns. Fire.
I shut my eyes and squeezed the glass harder.
I hated this.
I hated how every second of stillness brought ghosts with it. I hated how fragile I felt despite the power stitched into my title, my dress, my heels.
I needed something to anchor me.No — I needed someone.
And he knew that.
That was the most dangerous part.He always knew.
My fingers brushed over the rim of the empty glass, then down to the silk of my dress. My skin tingled — not from the alcohol — from him.
He was close. I could feel it.Like a magnet pulling my very soul toward him.
"You're drunk, doll," came a voice — deep, low, soaked in control — from the shadows near the back of the suite.
My breath caught in my throat.
Of course he waited until everyone was gone. Of course he slipped past the guards. Of course he watched the entire meeting like a predator studying his prey.
I didn't turn to face him. I didn't need to.The energy in the room had already shifted — it was his now.
"Good," I whispered, still not looking at him. "Maybe I need to be."
I felt his slow, deliberate steps behind me, the sound of his boots against the marble echoing like a warning. His fingers brushed my exposed shoulder, sending a ripple of heat through me.
"You don't need the drink to feel grounded," he said darkly, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "You need me."
And he was right.
Because even with the room spinning and the world threatening to fall apart — I didn't feel lost anymore.
Not when he was here.
Not when he was mine.
I got up, a little unsteady on my heels, the tipsy haze making everything feel surreal — sharp and slow all at once.
He moved forward, ready to steady me, but I raised a hand, stopping him. I didn't want gentle. Not now.
My fingers curled into his collar.
"Come here," I murmured, voice low and breathless, and with a sudden tug, I pulled him closer — so close I could feel the burn of his body through the layers of our clothes.
And then I kissed him.
Not soft.Not sweet.
Hungry.
Like he was the only thing keeping me tethered to the ground — like I needed to taste something real to silence the ghosts in my head.
He didn't hesitate.
In a second, I was against the wall — his hands gripping my waist, pinning me in place like I belonged there, like I had no business standing anywhere but beneath him. One arm braced beside my head, the other holding me firm as his mouth devoured mine — rough, commanding, starving.
His teeth grazed my bottom lip, and I gasped, the sound melting into his mouth. The kiss deepened, messy and hot, tongues tangling in a brutal rhythm that made my knees threaten to give out.
I could feel his desire in every movement — how badly he had been holding back.
And God, he tasted like danger.Like sin.Like mine.
"You shouldn't kiss me like that if you want to walk out of here tonight," he growled against my lips, his breath ragged, voice dripping with heat and warning.
I smirked, tugging his bottom lip between my teeth before whispering, "Then don't let me."
And now… nothing stood in our way.
No duties.No meetings.No threats.Just us — raw and breathless, caged in the silence of the dimly lit room.
Our kisses turned desperate, greedy — the kind that stripped every layer of restraint away. His hands roamed my body like he was trying to memorize every curve, every shiver, every hidden ache I never showed anyone else.
Clothes were no longer barriers.
They fell — piece by piece — like petals drifting from a dying bloom. Soft. Silent. Beautifully tragic.
The white dress slipped from my shoulders, pooling at my feet like a sigh. His jacket dropped to the ground, followed by the slow, calculated tug of his shirt as he undid each button with maddening precision, his eyes never leaving mine.
His gaze was fire — dark, devouring.Possessive.
"You have no idea what you do to me," he whispered against my neck, his breath sending tremors through my spine. "You've ruined me, Adelina."
He lifted me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist, his lips trailing down my throat like a man starved for salvation in the form of sin.
I gasped as he pressed me against the cool wall again, heat blooming across every inch of my skin. There was no gentleness in his touch, but there was reverence — like even in his hunger, he was worshipping me.
"I've waited too long for this," he growled, voice husky and low. "Tonight, you're not leaving my bed… and tomorrow, you're waking up in my arms."
I didn't respond — I couldn't. I was already drowning.
In his scent.His hands.His everything.
And I didn't want to be saved.
He was the first.The first man to touch me like I was made of fire and silk.The first to kiss me with the kind of hunger that unraveled me from the inside out.The first to claim me — fully, completely — body and soul.
No one had ever touched me like that.No one had ever seen me like that.
And as I lay beneath him, breathless and bare, I knew…I could never belong to anyone else.