"Did I not warn you never to come in here?"
Fear crept up my legs like ice crawling over skin. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my lips trembling.
I knew nothing about Anthony—not really. For all I knew, he could be dangerous. He might hurt me. Yet I had walked right into his trap. "I'm so sorry. I won't come in here again."
"Good." His jaw clenched, and his grip on my wrist tightened.
I flinched and looked away, unable to meet those burning eyes. Eyes I knew I had wounded.
"Staring into fire doesn't mean you won't get burned," he said, his breath brushing my cheek. "You shouldn't pry."
"I know," I breathed.
"Then why did you come here?" His grey eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, I was spellbound. I couldn't look away.
This man—whom I should've feared—stood inches from me. And still, I made no move to leave.
What is his story?
"I... I wanted to apologize," I lied. It sounded far better than admitting I'd been snooping.
Anthony's eyes narrowed, his voice dropping into something low and dangerously smooth. "For what?"
"For yelling at you earlier."
His grip on my wrist loosened. Then, slowly, his hand slid around my waist, pulling me close. His breath warmed my ear as he whispered, "Don't be, Alicia. I'm the one who dragged you into this."
I nodded, my eyes still caught in his. I couldn't look away. I couldn't pull his hand off me.
"Is this okay?" he asked.
He meant the way he held me—this close, this intimately. Honestly? Yes. It was more than okay.
"Can you handle all the drama of being with me?" he murmured.
"Well…" I blinked, caught off guard. That wasn't what I expected. And why was he being nice?
"If you can't handle it—"
"I can," I cut in, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
Ugh. What was I doing? I came here to figure him out, to assess whether he posed any danger. That way, I'd have something to hold onto if I needed to escape. Yet here I was, wrapped in his arms, telling him his world didn't scare me.
"Very well," Anthony said, stepping back.
Only then did I feel the cold breeze kiss my skin, replacing his warmth. I nodded and offered a small smile.
He bent to pick up the photo that had fallen. For a few silent seconds, he stared at it—then his fingers curled tightly around the frame.
"You shouldn't be touching things," he said suddenly. His voice had turned cold, sharp.
He set the photo back and slammed the cupboard shut.
I flinched at the sound.
When he got up and straightened, he found me slightly trembling. His expression shifted. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that."
"It's okay." I gave him another small smile—one to show that his reaction hadn't shaken me. Not really. After all, the fact that he hadn't thrown me out of his room already felt like a win.
I glanced around the room. It still saddened me how empty it was—no pictures, no warmth, just space and silence.
Anthony shifted beside me, visibly uncomfortable. "Let's go out," he said.
Before I could protest, his arm slipped around my waist, firm but gentle, guiding me out of the room.
We walked into the living room. The city lights spilled through the wide glass window, casting a soft glow that marked the arrival of night.
The space was quiet. Warm light bathed the room, mingling with the soft flicker from the fake hearth.
Anthony settled onto the sofa. A bottle of wine rested on the small table before him. He uncorked it, poured a glass, and just when I thought he'd take the first sip, he handed it to me.
"Sit down, Alicia."
I did—keeping a little distance between us—and accepted the glass.
He poured another for himself and downed it in one go.
"Easy," I said, amused. "You're going to get drunk."
I caught the faint curve of a smile on his lips, but then he poured another and drank it too.
I rolled my eyes and took a slow sip, the wine warming my throat.
By the third drink, Anthony set down his glass and turned to me. "It's going to be boring for you in here. I won't stop you if you want to go out sometimes. Make friends if you need to."
"Oh, it's not necessary," I said, shrugging lightly. I'd always been the type to stay indoors, lost in books. I could survive this just fine.
"You should know—I'll be busy most of the time with work. Except on a few occasions when we'll need to appear in public together."
"Is that really necessary?" I stiffened. The thought of showing my face made my stomach tighten. My father would be furious.
But then again… You owe him nothing, Alicia. It's fine.
Still, if any scandal broke involving him, it would drag me down with it—and that could affect Anthony too.
"What?" Anthony raised a brow. "You're not okay with that?"
"Well… I…"
He poured a fourth glass of wine and took a slow sip. My eyes drifted to his lips, the way they pressed softly against the rim. And just like that, I was reminded of that night—of the way he'd kissed me.
My God, Alicia… get a grip.
"We did a good job by showing up at the ball," Anthony said. "I managed to secure a merger with the company board." He took another sip, his gaze fixed on the flickering hearth. "But they want more, you know."
"More?" I tilted my head.
"Yes, Alicia. Eventually..." His eyes met mine. "They want us to be seen more often in public—more intimately."
"Intimately?" I froze, the rim of the wine glass hovering near my lips.
"It means... we have to make the press believe we're madly in love."
"But that's… that's not…" I trailed off. Notnecessary—that's what I wanted to say. But deep down, I knew it was. Anthony wasn't taking advantage of me. It was just the reality of the world he lived in.
"Very well." I tightened my grip on the wine glass, and—just like him—I downed it in one gulp.
"At some point," he said quietly, "I'll hold you. I'll kiss you. Are you okay with that?"
I turned to him and my gaze fell to his lips. I stiffened.
Then I noticed his eyes drift, falling to my mouth as well.
"I wouldn't want to do anything you don't like," he said slowly, though his gaze remained locked on mine.
"I know," I whispered.
Our eyes met, then something shifted. We moved closer. Gently, cautiously.
His breath brushed across my cheek first, warm and steady. "Alicia, you don't have to do this… not if it's not what you want."
My voice came quietly, a whisper that stirred the air between us. "Yes. I know."
With my permission, Anthony lifted his hand and cradled my jaw. His eyes searched mine, lingering as if waiting for me to pull away. I didn't.
Seeing no hesitation, his lips curved ever so slightly. "I must be drunk after all," he murmured, then kissed me.
His lips found mine, hot and consuming, like the noonday sun burning through every layer of restraint.
For a moment, he didn't move. Neither did I. Our breath mingled in the quiet room.
Then, my back arched slightly as my mouth parted for him, letting him in.
Yes, it burned. I knew the danger that came with fire. But I was ready to burn for him.