Chapter 2

Emily walked out of her room, her long smooth legs gliding over the marble floor. The sharp clicks of her heels echoed with every step.

“Mom, can I come in?” she asked from the doorway.

“You don’t have to ask, princess,” her mother replied.

Emily entered and sat on the bed.

“Is the old man gone?”

“Yes,” Clarissa answered, pressing her lips together after applying lipstick.

“Ah, thank goodness. I was already tired of his stench.” Emily pinched her nose in mock disgust. “And where are you going, all dolled up?” She wandered toward the drawer where Clarissa sat.

“I need to see someone important. Don’t stay out too long.”

“I’ll try not to,” Emily said as she left the room.

⸻

Across town, the morning air buzzed with energy.

“Hey man, good to see you back in town!” Sinclair called, pulling his friend into a hug. “How long has it been? Two years?”

“Three, bro,” Rico corrected, patting his back.

“So what finally dragged you out of hiding?” Sinclair asked.

“Got some business to take care of.”

Sinclair grinned. “Then it’s going to be a mad party now that you’re back.”

⸻

Meanwhile, traffic on the main expressway had ground to a halt.

“What’s the problem, Jeff? Why are we stuck here?” Mr. Anthony asked impatiently.

“Sorry, sir. Looks like a car accident ahead caused a holdup,” Jeff explained.

“Then reverse and take another route. I can’t miss this flight.”

“On it, sir.” Jeff shifted the car into reverse and turned back toward the airport.

⸻

Clarissa later strode briskly into a towering glass-fronted building, moving as if she owned the place.

“Excuse me!” she snapped, fingers clicking at the receptionist who was busy typing.

“Welcome, ma—how may I hel—” The receptionist’s words were cut short by a sharp slap that left her ears ringing.

“Is this how you treat your customers?” Clarissa shouted. “You left me standing here while you were busy doing God knows what! I’ll make sure you’re fired!”

“I—I’m really sorry. I didn’t see you standing there,” the receptionist pleaded, but Clarissa ignored her.

“What’s going on here?” the manager hurried over.

“I want you to fire this dimwit!” Clarissa said, pointing furiously at the trembling receptionist.

“We’re very sorry for the inconvenience, ma’am,” the manager said smoothly. “Please, follow me. As an apology, we’ll offer you our VP suite.”

“She has to be fired,” Clarissa insisted.

The manager glanced at the receptionist, then back at Clarissa.

“As you wish, ma’am.” He turned coldly to the young woman. “You’re fired

“This way, ma’am,” the manager said as he led her into the VIP suite.

“I really apologize for earlier. Please, enjoy your stay.”

He bowed slightly and slipped out, closing the door behind him.

Clarissa sank into the wide bed, her fingers spreading across the soft wool sheets.

“Now this is what luxury feels like,” she murmured, arching her back as though the fabric itself caressed her skin.

Her phone buzzed, shattering the moment.

“Hello,” she said stiffly.

“Hey baby, where are you?” came the smooth voice on the other end.

“Our regular. Ask for VIP suite, room 414.” She ended the call without waiting for a reply.

Moments later, the door clicked open. A pair of boots crossed the threshold.

“Hey, mama… did you miss me?” Dante asked, his voice low and teasing.

Clarissa propped herself up on one elbow, a sly smile tugging at her lips.

“Come on, Dante. I don’t have time to waste. Let’s get this over with.”

He chuckled, stripping off his shirt in one smooth motion. The light caught the lines of his chest and shoulders, and she couldn’t stop her tongue from wetting her lips.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want me,” he said, leaning closer. “No one’s watching. It’s just us.”

Her resistance faltered. She stretched a hand toward him, her voice husky.

“Fine. I don’t just want you, Dante… I need you.”

“How badly?” he murmured, flipping her roughly so her back arched against him. His breath was hot against her neck as his lips brushed her skin. He tugged her hair back, forcing a soft gasp from her throat.

In a single swift motion, he tore the thin straps of her dress, baring her shoulders. The fabric slid down like water, exposing the shimmer of her skin beneath.

Dante's hands traced down her arms, slow and deliberate, as though savoring the permission she’d finally given him. His mouth found her collarbone, pressing soft heat against her skin, and Clarissa arched beneath his touch.

“You drive me mad, you know that?” he whispered against her ear.

She smiled faintly, tilting her head back to give him more room. “Then stop talking and show me.”

He obliged. His weight pressed her gently into the bed as his lips traveled lower, each kiss deliberate, each touch designed to unravel her composure. Clarissa gripped the sheets, the soft wool twisting between her fingers as waves of sensation built inside her.

For a moment, she hated how much power he had over her body — but then, with another kiss, she surrendered to it.

Dante pulled her closer, their bodies aligning in a rhythm that was all their own. She gasped at the sudden rush of heat, her legs instinctively curling around him as if she could hold him there forever.

The room filled with muffled breaths, whispered names, and the sound of the bed creaking faintly beneath them. Her perfume mingled with his cologne, thick in the air, intoxicating.

“Don’t stop,” she breathed, nails dragging lightly across his back.

“I wasn’t planning to,” he growled against her lips before claiming her mouth again in a hungry kiss.

Time became meaningless as they moved together, the outside world forgotten. For Clarissa, the evening was nothing but silk sheets, heat, and the intoxicating man above her.

When at last she collapsed back against the pillows, flushed and trembling, Danta lingered beside her, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.

“You always leave me wanting more,” he said with a crooked smile.

Clarissa smirked, catching her breath. “That’s the point.”

The two of them lay in silence for a moment, the luxury suite dim and heavy with the scent of passion.