Chapter 5 Five
Elena’s POV
The walk from the bar to Alberto Fiori’s booth felt like a mile. My courage, which had felt so solid in my apartment, was turning to water with every step. The green dress, my armor, now felt like a costume. A bright, screaming costume. Everyone was looking. They had to be. The weight of the silk was immense. The opulence of the club pressed in on me: the glint of crystal, the sheen of marble, the low hum of money and power. It wasn’t beautiful. It was suffocating.
Just get there. Talk to him. He’s kind. He’s safe.
My mind chanted the words, but my body was all panic. My hands felt cold. I tried to remember how to walk, how to move my hips with a confidence I didn’t feel, to sway just a little. It felt clumsy. Fake.
I was so focused on the booth, on the man in it, on not tripping, that I didn’t see the other man until I walked right into him.
The collision wasn’t hard, but it was solid. A wall of dark wool and warm muscle. A faint scent of cedar and clean, sharp cologne. My hands flew up, bracing against a chest that felt like carved stone. My drink, forgotten in my hand, sloshed, the cold liquid soaking the sleeve of his impeccable suit.
“Oh! I’m so sorry,” I gasped, stumbling back, mortification heating my face.
Strong hands caught my elbows, steadying me. “The fault was mine,” a voice said. It was low. A dark, smooth sound that seemed to vibrate right through my skin.
I looked up.
And the world stopped.
He was… breathtaking. Not handsome in a safe, gentle way. Handsome in a way that felt like a threat. Like a discovery. Sharp jaw, shadowed with just the right amount of stubble. Dark hair, swept back. And his eyes. They weren’t just dark. They were endless, holding mine with an intensity that pinned me to the spot. He was the most magnetically attractive man I had ever seen.
For a second, I just drowned in those eyes. My thoughts, my plan, my fear, all of it vanished, washed away in a single, shocking wave of pure, physical attraction. A wild, impossible thought flashed through me: Him. What would it feel like to have him? For one night. To have those hands on me, that focus entirely on me.
The thought was so vivid, so sudden, it stole my breath. A hot, pooling sensation gathered low in my core, a traitorous pulse of pure want. I was frozen.
He hadn’t let go of my elbows. His gaze traveled over my face, slowly, taking in every detail. He saw the panic, I was sure of it. He saw the desperate calculation. He leaned in, his head dipping close to my ear. His breath fanned my skin, a warm whisper that made me shiver.
“You look like you’re planning an escape,” he murmured. His words weren’t a pick-up line. It was an observation. A dark, intimate caress that felt more invasive than a touch.
My body reacted before my mind could. A flush spread from my neck up to my cheeks. My pulse leaped, a frantic drumbeat in my throat. Every nerve ending where his hands still held me was on fire. This is dangerous, a voice screamed inside my head. This is exactly the kind of dangerous you didn’t plan for.
But it was also the point, wasn’t it? To step into the danger. To choose it.
I found my voice, though it was barely a whisper. “I am,” I admitted, the truth torn from me. “Just for tonight.”
His lips, so close to my ear, almost curved into a smile. I could feel it. He straightened, his eyes capturing mine again. They were dead serious. No mockery. No game playing I could detect. Just that deep, unsettling focus.
He released one of my elbows and offered me his hand. Not to shake. An offering. A pledge.
“Then let me be your sanctuary tonight,” he said.
The line should have sounded cheesy. Trite. Like something from a bad movie. But it didn’t. In that low, certain voice, with those eyes holding mine as if they could see the riot inside me, it sounded like a vow. A dangerous, perfect vow.
My brain was a storm of warning signals. Don’t. You don’t know him. This is how stories end badly. He could be anyone. He could be worse.
But my body wasn’t listening. My body was still humming from the collision, from his whisper, from the sheer, overwhelming force of his presence. Alberto Fiori, safe and kind, was forgotten. This man was a cliff edge. And I wanted to fall.
This was the real rebellion. Not the safe, sad transaction with a nice man. This was jumping into the unknown with a stranger who looked like he could devour me whole. The ultimate act of claiming my own body would be to give it to someone who made every cell in me sit up and scream in recognition.
Against every sane, logical, self-preserving instinct I possessed, I moved.
I placed my hand in his.
The moment my palm touched his, a jolt went through me. Sharp and electric. It wasn’t just warmth. It was a current, a connection that felt frighteningly deep. His fingers closed around mine, strong and sure. He didn’t pull me toward the dance floor or the bar. He simply held my hand, his thumb brushing once, slowly, over my knuckles. The gesture was possessive. Calming. Terrifying.
“Come with me,” he said, not a question. A quiet command I was already choosing to obey.
He led me, not through the main crowd, but toward a more secluded corridor, away from the pounding music and the prying eyes. I followed, my heart hammering against my ribs. The green dress swished around my legs. His hand was an anchor, a tether to this mad decision.
Is this salvation? I thought, the conflict tearing through me. Am I saving a piece of myself from Valtieri by giving it to this man? Or am I walking into a deeper, more personal ruin? This man feels like a storm. What if I get lost in it and never find my way back?
But as I walked beside him, the noise of the club fading behind us, a strange calm began to seep through the panic. This was my choice. My wild, reckless, terrifying choice. Not my father’s. Not Valtieri’s. Mine.
He glanced down at me, his dark eyes reading the conflict on my face. He didn’t smile. He just gave my hand the slightest, most reassuring squeeze.
And in that moment, I didn’t know if he was an angel or a devil. I only knew I was no longer alone in my escape. And for tonight, that was enough.