Grace recalled the night they first met—when he saved her.
The man was drenched, his short, jet-black hair neatly slicked back despite the water. His sword-like eyebrows arched slightly, his chiseled features exuding a raw, unrestrained masculinity. Strong arms cradled her, shielding her from the cold.
Alex had always complained that she was cold, unromantic—never passionate about sex. But this time, she had wrapped her arms around another man's neck, boldly inviting him in.
It was he who had unlocked something inside her, showing her that passion didn't need love to exist.
Now, with the haze of alcohol slowing her thoughts, John leaned in, his lips brushing against hers before she could refuse. His kiss was gentle, like a spring breeze, coaxing rather than demanding. His hand found her wrist, guiding her arm around his waist, pressing her closer against the solid heat of his body.
The soft sofa beneath her only heightened her senses. Desire stirred within her faster than she'd expected.
"You want me too," he murmured against her lips.
Grace, dazed, wasn't sure if it was the alcohol clouding her judgment. She parted her lips to respond. "I—"
Before she could finish, John silenced her with another kiss, deeper this time. His fingers found the loose bow at her waist, tugging teasingly.
"Baby," his voice was a low rumble, seductive, "tell me, do you want it or not?"
Ding—
The doorbell rang, slicing through the tension like a cold blade.
The interruption jolted her back to reality. Panic surged through her as she shoved John away, chest rising and falling rapidly.
His eyes darkened with dissatisfaction.
"Go hide in my room first!" she hissed.
John's frown deepened. "Am I that shameful?"
"If it's a colleague or my mother, I can't let them find us like this!"
She tugged at his arm, urgency in her touch. With a resigned sigh, John let her push him toward the bedroom. But just as she reached for the door handle, he grabbed her wrist and spun her back against the wall.
Before she could protest, his lips crashed onto hers, stealing another deep, searing kiss.
"John… Mm—"
His hand cradled the back of her head, his kiss both demanding and teasing. His voice was a husky whisper against her lips.
"I'm a businessman," he murmured. "I can hide… but what will you give me in return?"
In the dim light, his gaze burned into her, his fingers tracing slow circles on her waist.
"If you agree, I'll behave," he teased.
"Okay, I agree," she blurted, desperate to escape before whoever was at the door became suspicious.
John smirked but let her go.
With a shaky breath, she smoothed down her robe and hurried to the front door, slamming the bedroom door shut behind her.
She took a moment to compose herself before unlocking the door—only to be greeted by Alex, her ex-boyfriend who announced the engagement in the newspaper today.
Disheveled. Reeking of alcohol.
Her expression turned ice-cold. "What are you doing here?"
Alex stepped forward, but she blocked his path.
"You haven't contacted me in ninety days," he slurred, his eyes searching hers.
"So?" She lifted a brow. "Should I give you an award for your twelve minutes and thirty-eight seconds?"
A flicker of pain crossed his face. "Grace, even if I cheated, I only did it to see if you actually cared about me."
She stared at him, unimpressed.
"Did you ever have feelings for me?" His voice softened, laced with desperation.
She hesitated. Not because she was uncertain but because she didn't want John to overhear any of this.
Alex took her silence as a sign of hope.
"That night, I was drugged by my mother," he continued quickly. "I had no choice."
She folded her arms. "And what exactly does that mean?"
He exhaled sharply. "It's a business alliance, Grace. Susan and I—it's just a contract. I don't love her." His gaze turned pleading. "I regret it. I don't want to lose you."
Grace peeled his fingers off her shoulders, one by one. Her voice was devoid of emotion.
"Sorry, I don't have the habit of recycling trash." She smiled coldly. "Besides, your twelve minutes can't satisfy me."
Alex stiffened, his face paling. "What?"
Her lips curled. "I have a man now. He's wild. Powerful."
Disbelief flickered in Alex's eyes, followed by anger. "Grace, you must be joking. We were together for three years, and you barely let me hold your hand. How could you be with someone else?"
The insinuation was clear—he thought she was frigid.
Grace smirked. "I guess you just weren't the right man."
Alex clenched his fists. "I know what you're doing. You're trying to provoke me because you still care—"
A deep, masculine voice interrupted him.
"How much longer do I have to wait?"
The words were casual, yet they carried an unmistakable authority.
Alex froze.
Slowly, he turned, his eyes widening at the sight of a man standing in the doorway.
Dressed in a black silk shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, he exuded a quiet dominance. His posture was relaxed, but the intensity in his dark gaze left no room for doubt.
He wasn't just someone in Grace's life.
He was the man.