I should have ended the night there.
Walked away. Regained my senses.
But as we left the club, stepping into the crisp night air, I felt the heat of his presence beside me—unshaken, unrelenting.
His driver opened the door of the Rolls-Royce Phantom, but before I could step inside, his hand found mine.
"Come with me," Lawrence said, his voice low, deliberate.
My pulse quickened. "Where?"
A slow smirk. "Somewhere quieter."
I hesitated, but then I saw it—the challenge in his eyes, the silent dare.
I could say no. I should say no.
But instead, I found myself stepping into the car, feeling the gravity of my own choice pull me in deeper.
The ride was silent, the city lights flashing past in golden streaks.
I expected him to take me to a penthouse, a private estate, somewhere extravagant.
Instead, we pulled up to a secluded waterfront property, the kind that didn't need to scream wealth—it simply existed in quiet, undeniable power.
Lawrence led me inside, past the glass walls revealing an infinity pool that stretched toward the skyline. The interior was sleek, modern—dark marble, custom furnishings, a fireplace casting flickering shadows against the walls.
It was a place designed not just for living, but for control.
He poured two glasses of Macallan Rare Cask, handing me one as he leaned against the bar.
"You intrigue me, Ivanna," he murmured, studying me over the rim of his glass.
I took a sip, letting the warmth of the whiskey settle in my chest. "And that surprises you?"
His lips twitched. "It's rare."
I set my glass down. "Because women usually throw themselves at you?"
A low chuckle. "Something like that."
I exhaled, walking toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. "And what exactly do you want from me, Lawrence?"
Silence.
Then
"To step into my world."
I turned slightly, meeting his gaze. "And if I don't?"
His eyes darkened. "Then I'll wait."
I swallowed. "Wait for what?"
He took a slow step toward me, closing the space between us. "For you to realize that you already have."
The air crackled.
A warning. A promise.
And for the first time…
I wasn't sure if I wanted to escape it.
His answer hung between us, heavy, unshaken.
No.
A single word that should have sent a chill down my spine.
Instead, it intrigued me.
I studied him, watching the flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. He wasn't asking for my approval. He wasn't trying to convince me otherwise.
Lawrence Winston knew exactly who he was—and he wasn't ashamed of it.
I took a slow breath. "That's an honest answer."
His lips quirked. "Would you have preferred a lie?"
"No," I admitted. "But it makes me wonder… why tell me at all?"
He lifted his glass, swirling the whiskey before taking a measured sip. "Because I don't want illusions between us."
Us.
The word sent a shiver through me.
I turned back toward the window, needing space, needing to think. "You're powerful. Wealthy. You could have any woman, and yet—"
"And yet, I want you."
His words were deliberate, undeniable.
I swallowed, pressing my palms against the cool glass. "And what happens when I don't want to step into your world?"
A charged silence.
Then, he spoke, his voice softer this time. "Then I'll let you go."
I turned, meeting his gaze. "Just like that?"
A small, almost imperceptible muscle ticked in his jaw. "Just like that."
But I didn't believe him.
Because as much as I felt the pull between us…
I could sense it in him too.
He wasn't ready to let me go.
And deep down, I wasn't sure if I wanted him to.