Chapter 33
Sofia Bliss
After that strange conversation with Letícia, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was hiding something.
Nothing concrete — nothing I could point to and say, “That’s it.” But something in the way she looked at me, the way she spoke — or tried 'not' to — set off every alarm in my head.
It was like she knew something about me... something I didn’t even know myself.
But now wasn’t the time to spiral into cryptic family drama or weird riddles.
I still had bills stacking up, a luxury clinic to pay for, a father who needed help, and a whole damn world just waiting for me to crash.
So I took a deep breath.
And got ready.
The bathroom was filled with steam, warm and heavy, fogging up the mirror like a silent hug.
I let the water pour over me, hoping it would rinse away the thoughts, the fears... especially the memories from last night.
But it didn’t.
As I ran the soap along my arms, down my legs, over my face… I felt it again.
That same heat.
That strange, slow-burning ache deep inside me, like some part of my body still remembered him.
Still craved him.
His touch.
His voice.
The way he 'begged' for me.
It still burned beneath my skin.
I smacked my forehead.
“Enough, Sofia,” I muttered to myself. “It was just one night. That’s it.”
I stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, and walked into Letícia’s room.
She was already trying on outfits, tossing clothes around. She glanced at me through the mirror, smirking, one eyebrow raised.
“Back to robbing my closet again?”
“Just for today,” I said, holding up my hands. “I swear I’ll start buying my own stuff soon. I’m just... getting organized.”
“I’m charging rent next time,” she teased, tossing a top onto the bed.
I let out a short, awkward laugh.
“Fair enough.”
The truth? She helped me more than I liked to admit.
And even after the tension between us earlier, she still cared.
We dressed up together, as we used to do when we were teenagers - cheap lipstick, too much perfume, sneaking out to parties we were too young for.
But this time… it was different.
Everything was different.
As I lined my eyes with black and fixed my hair, the mirror reflected a version of me I didn’t fully recognize.
I looked beautiful, yes… but there was something darker there.
A sharpness in my gaze that hadn’t been there before.
A fire.
A hunger.
For what, exactly, I wasn’t ready to say out loud.
But I knew — it started last night.
I slipped into a tight black dress, short and clingy — the kind Letícia swore could make any man drool.
The heels she lent me still hurt, but I needed to look strong.
Even if I felt completely wrecked inside.
“Ready?” Letícia asked, adjusting her purse on her shoulder.
“Ready,” I replied, though the word barely had weight.
We left the apartment and walked to the taxi stand.
The night was colder, the wind slicing against my bare legs with every step.
Letícia chatted about some drunk customer who caused a scene at the bar, but I wasn’t really listening.
My head was still… there.
In that suffocating room.
In the scent he left on my skin.
In the way he said I couldn’t bring anyone else there again.
I let out a dry, bitter laugh, staring at the street ahead.
As if he had any kind of authority over me.
As if he 'owned' me.
That man was a walking red flag — arrogant, intense, manipulative.
He thought money gave him the right to control everything — even me.
But the worst part?
The part that made me furious?
Was how, even with all of that...
My body still remembered him.
Still 'wanted' him.
And that…
That’s what made me burn with rage.
Because no matter how many times I told myself he was just another client,
No matter how hard I tried to pretend it was only sex...
Somewhere deep inside me...
Something recognized him.
Like we’d known each other in another life.
Or maybe... every one of them.
And that just made me even more confused.
“Hey, you hearing me?” Letícia nudged my arm. “You on Mars or something?”
“Huh? No, sorry. I’m here.”
“The taxi’s here. Let’s go.”
I got into the car, swallowing the strange pressure in my chest. I had to focus.
Tonight was just another night of work. I needed the money. Nothing else.
No crazy thoughts.
No repeating mistakes.
And especially… no letting him cross my path again.
At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.
Until we got to the bar.
Deep down, I really thought he understood.
I 'swore' he got the message.
I thought that night — as insane, wild, and… pleasurable as it had been — ended right there.
A full stop.
A madness sealed behind closed doors, meant to stay buried.
But the moment I stepped into the bar and lifted my gaze—
He was there.
Sitting in the darkest corner of the lounge,
And yet… impossible to ignore.
Adrian Valehart.
Legs crossed, arms draped lazily over the backrest like he ruled some kingdom he made up in his own mind.
His eyes locked on me,
Like I was the only damn reason he was still breathing.
My chest tightened.
His hair was damp, like he’d just taken a rushed shower.
And his scent — woodsy, magnetic — reached me even from across the room.
The white shirt, a few buttons undone, showed off that defined collarbone, that sculpted chest…
And that neck.
That fucking neck that seemed to whisper my name.
Shit.
I turned away before my body betrayed me.
Pretended he wasn’t there.
“Shit… Sofia,” Letícia noticed too, pulling me close. “He’s here again.”
“Yeah… I saw,” I muttered, trying to sound cold.
“What the hell is that bastard doing here again? I thought you handled that shit. Didn’t you put him in his place?” Letícia was just as pissed as I was.
“I did. He’s just the one who doesn’t seem to get the fucking message.”
Letícia let out a long breath, adjusting the strap of her dress and whispered:
"Pretend he's not here. Don't pay any attention to that idiot"