They arrived in the room.
"Come all the way here… and my night gets ruined," Brenda muttered as she angrily wiped her makeup off. "I don't need any of this."
"Did you say something?" Christian called out.
She ignored him, scrubbing harder.
Christian walked over and stopped behind her, their reflections meeting in the mirror.
"I asked if you said something," he repeated.
Brenda turned slowly, her eyes burning with anger and disappointment. She sighed and tried to walk past him—but Christian yanked her back and kissed the daylight out of her.
She resisted at first, lips sealed tight, denying him the control he wanted. But the kiss was fierce, demanding, relentless. Her resolve crumbled. She melted into him, gripping the sink for support as the intensity stole her breath.
Christian broke the kiss and cupped her face, forcing her to look at him.
"When I ask you something, you answer, woman. Got it?" he said, breathless.
Brenda nodded.
Spank.
The sharp sound echoed. It should've pissed her off—but instead, heat surged through her.
"You're stubborn, Brenda. You know that?" he said.
He let her go and walked to the bed.
"We planned to come to Vegas and have a good time," she snapped, following him. "We were having a good time until God knows what got into you. I had a male stripper dancing for me—it was so f—"
"Come here," Christian cut in.
She stopped, confused and annoyed.
"I said come here."
His voice dropped—slow, commanding.
It pulled at something deep inside her. Against her will, Brenda walked toward him, hypnotized.
"Crawl."
Any other day, Brenda Belair would've laughed in his face. She was proud. Unyielding.
But inside that room… she wanted to submit.
What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.
BRENDA'S POV
As I dropped to my knees, all I could see were his eyes—dark, hungry, full of lust. The kind that made my core throb.
What has this man turned me into?
Brenda Belair. On her knees. Crawling for a man.
The cold tiles sent shivers through my body as I moved toward him.
Christian sat on the bed, a belt wrapped around his hand. His sculpted body glowed under the lights—untouchable, unreal. Like crawling toward a Greek god.
I reached him and tried to stand, but his hands forced me back down, leaving me seated.
The belt traced my neck.
A whimper escaped me.
"Up," he commanded, eyes locked on mine.
I obeyed.
Just as he pulled me toward him, his phone rang.
We both looked at it.
I searched his face, wondering which he'd choose.
"Just a minute," he said.
I groaned and dropped onto the bed. He kept saying okay—over and over. Something twisted in my stomach. He couldn't talk freely because I was there.
The thought hit hard.
Is he cheating?
Finally, the call ended.
"I'm stepping outside," he said, already moving.
He paused at the door, glanced back.
"I'll be back in an hour."
And just like that, he was gone.
I was left alone.
In Vegas.
I stepped onto the balcony, letting the air cool my skin. The city glowed below. My eyes drifted to the hotel entrance—and froze.
A fleet of black SUVs.
Somebody rich must be here, I thought.
Then a man exited the hotel and slid into one of the cars.
My heart slammed.
I gripped the railing.
"Christian?" I whispered.
Three hours later, the door opened.
Christian walked in.
I sat near the bed with a glass of rum.
"You're not asleep yet, love?" His eyes were warm—but something about them had changed.
"No," I said, downing my drink.
He came up behind me, kissing my neck slowly.
"Mind if we continue where we stopped?" he murmured, breath hot against my ear.
"Where were you?"
He stopped.
Walked around and sat on the bed.
"Business," he said casually, pulling off his shirt.
I almost laughed.
Either he thought I was stupid—or he didn't care.
"You mean the business of getting into black SUVs with men dressed in all black?" I asked flatly.
"Did you follow me?" His eyes narrowed.
I shook my head.
"What do you do for a living, Christian?"
His voice dropped. "Why are you asking now?"
There it was. Confirmation.
"We've been seeing each other for months—and I still don't know what you do."
"Let's talk tomorrow," he said. "I'm tired."
"Tired?" I scoffed. "You were ready to fuck me into a mess, but talking exhausts you? Wow. Goodnight."
I lay down.
He reached for me—I shook my head.
"I'm leaving tomorrow. Six a.m. flight."
CHRISTIAN'S POV
She saw me.
That's why she's distant.
I don't blame her. I'd react the same way.
I want to tell her the truth—God knows I do—but she wouldn't survive it.
I watched her sleep. Peaceful. Beautiful. Untouched by my world.
These months with her have been the happiest of my life. Men like me don't get second chances.
I lay back, staring at the ceiling.
FLASHBACK
The moment I closed the hotel door, rage consumed me.
The SUVs waited below. A bodyguard opened the door.
Inside, a tablet was shoved into my hands.
"How bad is it?" I asked.
"Too bad," Reginald said. My right-hand man. My brother. He'd been with me since childhood.
Vegas was a mistake. But I couldn't disappoint Brenda.
"I could've stopped this," I muttered.
"You didn't cause it," Reginald said. "This is our life. You know that."
I stared out the window, jaw clenched, searching for answers—any solution—to the storm closing in on us.