The heavy, rhythmic pulse of the bass from Velvet Night seemed to vibrate through the very glass of the whiskey in Kang Ji-Hoon's hand. He swirled the amber liquid slowly, watching the ice clink against the crystal, before tilting his head back to let the burning liquid slide down his throat.
His eyes were half-lidded, shrouded in the lazy arrogance of a man who owned the world—until that voice cut through the air.
"You look like you're enjoying yourself, Ji-Hoon."
Ji-Hoon froze for a fraction of a second, his smirk widening as he slowly lowered his glass. He turned his head toward the entrance of the VIP cabin.
Standing there was Yoo Ara.
The brilliant CEO of her own designer empire looked every bit the queen she was. Her eyes scanned the scene—the three women draped over him, the discarded glasses, the scent of indulgence.
"My three-day business trip seems to have been very productive for you," she said, her voice dripping with a mix of mockery and possessiveness.
Ji-Hoon chuckled, his voice husky. "It was... fine."
He didn't hesitate. With a casual wave of his hand, he looked at the three women surrounding him. "We're done for tonight. Meet me tomorrow."
The girls, knowing better than to argue with the master of the house, stood up immediately. They filed out of the private cabin, the heavy sound of the door clicking shut behind them, leaving the two of them in a silence charged with a different kind of electricity.
Ara walked toward him, her heels clicking sharply on the floor before she sank into the velvet sofa beside him. "If you keep having this much fun with other girls right in front of me, one day, I might just stop coming back to you."
Ji-Hoon didn't flinch. "You wouldn't do that."
"And why is that?" she challenged, her eyes flashing.
"Because," he leaned in closer, his scent of expensive cologne and whiskey surrounding her, "you are mine."
Ara let out a soft, melodic laugh, though her expression turned slightly bitter. "If you think like that, then shall we get married?? Why put us both through that?"
Ji-Hoon took another slow sip of his drink, his face hardening slightly. "I've already told you. I don't like marriage. I don't believe in 'relationships' and legal cages."
Ara turned her face away, a mock-angry pout forming on her lips. Seeing her reaction, Ji-Hoon set his glass down on the table. He reached out, his fingers catching her chin and firmly but gently turning her face back to his. He tilted her head up, forcing her to look into the depths of his dark eyes.
"It's true I hate the idea of a wedding," he whispered, his thumb grazing her lower lip. "But my love for you... that is the only thing that is true."
A small, triumphant smile broke across Ara's face. She leaned forward, her breath hitching. "Then show me. Show me how much you love me."
She didn't wait for an answer. Ara slid her hand up his leg, her touch bold and demanding.
The spark ignited instantly. Ji-Hoon lunged forward, capturing her lips in a kiss that was devoid of any gap or hesitation. It was a frantic, hungry collision. He devoured her mouth, kissing her cheeks, her jaw, and the curve of her neck with a feverish intensity.
They stood up together, their bodies fused as they stumbled toward the large mahogany table in the center of the cabin. Ji-Hoon swept the crystal glasses aside with a crash, hoisting Ara up onto the table.
His hands moved with practiced speed. He reached behind her, his fingers finding the zipper of her designer dress and sliding it down with a sharp hiss. At the same time, Ara's hands were busy tugging at his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it onto the floor, revealing the hard, muscular lines of his chest.
Soon, the air was filled with the sound of their ragged breathing. Ara sat atop the table, her dress pooled around her waist, wearing only her lace bra and skirt. Ji-Hoon leaned over her, his hands gripping her waist as she arched her back, her lips traveling over his chest, biting and kissing his skin.
He moved with a desperate urgency, sliding her silk innerwear down and discarding his own clothes. They moved together in a blurred frenzy—standing, sitting, sliding across the table's edge as they sought a rhythm that could quench the fire between them.
The cabin was filled with the echoes of their voices, the sound of skin against skin, and the sharp, fast hitches in their breath. It was a long, exhaustive battle of desire that seemed to stretch time itself.
Finally, as the fire burned down to embers, the room grew quiet again.
Ji-Hoon sat back on the sofa, his chest still heaving slightly as he reached for his whiskey. Ara moved slowly, gathering her clothes. She slid her dress back on, zipping it up with trembling fingers, and adjusted her hair in the mirror. She stepped back into her heels, her elegance returning as if the storm of the last hour had never happened.
She turned to him, a soft but firm look in her eyes.
"Tomorrow is my birthday," she said, looking at his reflection. "I've arranged a party. Last year you didn't show up. Don't be late this time. Okay?"
Ji-Hoon looked up at her, a faint, tired smile on his lips. "Okay."
They shared one last look—a secret shared between two people who refused to be caged—before the night reclaimed them.
End of Chapter 2...