He bought one night of me—
but somehow, he still owns my soul.
Four years ago, I made a mistake with a ruthless billionaire.
One night.
One blurred decision.
One moment that never stopped echoing.
And tonight… the past walked back into my life without even knowing it.
⸻
Present
The club pulsed with heat and sin—neon lights slicing through smoke, bass trembling against my ribs, bodies grinding like they were starving for something they couldn't name.
I spun on the pole, heels biting into the stage, hair whipping down my back, my green eyes catching the light like shards of emerald.
Every sway, every arch, every smile was survival.
Rent.
Groceries.
I hated this job.
But hate doesn't pay the bills.
So I danced.
I performed.
I swallowed shame and turned it into money.
Then the air changed.
The door opened…
and silence rippled through the whole room.
Conversations died.
Laughter cut off.
Even the music seemed to lower itself, like it knew who had just entered.
Him.
Tall.
Dark hair slicked back.
Suit tailored with surgical precision.
Blue eyes sharp enough to cut through smoke.
He didn't walk in—
he took over the space.
Every man stiffened.
Every woman adjusted her dress.
The entire club shifted around him like gravity itself was rearranging.
And when his gaze found me, it wasn't lust.
It was claiming.
A cold, quiet curiosity.
The kind that saw everything—and missed nothing.
My pulse skipped.
My breath tangled.
For the first time in years, I didn't feel like the one in control.
He sat at a table near the stage, calm, deliberate.
The crowd parted instinctively, like no one wanted to stand too close to him—
or too far.
He wasn't watching the show.
He was watching me.
Not leering.
Not cheering.
Just measuring.
Like he was deciding something.
The more he didn't react, the deeper my grin grew.
I danced for him, not for tips now—
but as a challenge.
How long could I make the devil blink?
He didn't.
He didn't move.
Didn't smile.
Didn't break.
His gaze burned like heat on my skin, mapping every inch of me.
And when I finally stepped off the stage and walked to him, my heart stuttered.
He leaned forward slightly, brushing a hand along my waist—
not groping, not playful—
assessing.
His voice was low, smooth, and dangerous.
"You sell your power cheaply.
Stop pretending you don't know your worth."
The breath left my lungs.
Then—
"I want you tonight."
No hesitation.
No seduction.
Just truth.
My pulse hammered.
And against all common sense, all caution, all rules I lived by—
I nodded.
Normally I was careful.
Always careful.
But tonight?
Tipsy.
Lonely.
Tired.
Starving for something real—
I slipped.
And forgot protection.
⸻
We passed through the club, the crowd giving way without being asked. Whispers and envy followed us like a trail.
But I didn't care.
I cared only about his presence.
His scent—sandalwood and something darker.
His energy—controlled, lethal, restrained.
He opened the private room door.
Leather.
Dim lights.
Silence thick enough to swallow sound.
The click of the door locking behind us felt like a verdict.
I hesitated only one breath.
Then I undressed.
The air hit my skin.
Shame crept in.
He noticed.
A flick of sadness crossed his eyes—
so fast I wondered if I imagined it.
"Undress me."
His voice was command wrapped in velvet.
I obeyed.
His touch was slow, deliberate, claiming—
and the night blurred.
Moans.
Skin slapping softly.
His breath at my throat.
My legs around him.
His low groan in my ear.
A rhythm that felt like drowning and breathing at the same time.
He didn't give me his name.
I didn't ask.
He didn't kiss like someone who needed affection.
He kissed like someone who wanted dominance.
And I let him take every piece of me.
⸻
I woke up to sunlight slicing through curtains, painting gold bars across the floor.
He was gone.
The bed smelled of expensive cologne.
On the nightstand—
A crisp envelope.
Full.
Packed.
Months of survival in one place.
No note.
No number.
Not even a name.
Only the ghost of him.
His scent on my skin.
His heat in my bones.
And somewhere inside me…
something had already begun.
Something alive.
Something that would change every breath I took.
His legacy.
His claim.
His curse.
⸻
I dressed quickly and hurried outside.
The city was waking—cars honking, people rushing, life moving on as if everything was normal.
As if I hadn't just tied myself to a man I would never see again.
Or so I thought.
Then—
A chill ran up my spine.
That presence.
I spun, breath caught in my throat.
"W-who are you?"