Date: August 1997
Location: NYC Chinatown, late-night dumpling spot
Connection: After watching her steal scenes on Ally McBeal and in a gritty indie pilot AEG quietly backed, Alexander invites Lucy to dinner. She vents about roles written by men who don't understand women.
---
The place didn't have a name in English. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, menus were handwritten in Mandarin, and the dumplings were molten perfection. Alexander had booked the back table — not for privacy, but for the view. The window behind Lucy looked out over peeling neon signs and steam rising from manholes. It was a cinematic skyline. She belonged in it.
Lucy arrived in a black leather jacket and no makeup. She didn't apologize for being late. She didn't have to.
"Most Hollywood types don't come below Canal," she said, folding herself into the booth.
"I'm not most types," Alexander said. "And you're not most actresses."
She gave him a skeptical glance. "That's either a compliment or a warning."
"It's both."
---
The meal was casual. Dumplings. Scallion pancakes. Tea she poured for both of them.
But the conversation wasn't.
She spoke about scripts that treated her like a blade — sleek, cold, one-dimensional. "They write me like a plot twist," she said, "never like a woman."
Alexander listened. Not because it was polite, but because he was absorbing every word like a strategist studying terrain.
He finally said, "I don't write roles."
She paused.
"I write empires," he continued. "Want to lead one?"
Her chopsticks froze above the plate. A flicker of something crossed her face — suspicion, interest, ambition. Then stillness. Control.
She didn't blink.
---
Outside, the city thrummed — humid, noisy, endless. But inside that cracked-tile restaurant, something quiet and seismic passed between them.
He wasn't offering a role. He was offering war — and victory.
She didn't say yes.
But she didn't say no either.
The next month, she called him. No agent. No publicist.
Just one sentence: "Let's build."
And they did.
The call had come just after midnight.
A week later, she was at his loft — not some glassy high-rise, but a converted garment factory with exposed brick, blackened steel beams, and the faint smell of leather and machine oil.
He opened the door to find her leaning against the frame, dressed in a loose white shirt, the top three buttons undone, her hair still damp from rain. She didn't wait to be invited in.
"You still mean it?" she asked.
"That depends," Alexander said, stepping back so she could pass. "Do you?"
She walked in slowly, boots clicking on the polished concrete. The air between them was thick — not tentative, but charged, like two fencers circling.
She turned, crossing her arms. "If I'm going to stand in your empire, I want to know what it feels like to be in your hands."
He closed the space between them. The scent of rain on her skin, faint jasmine in her hair. He reached up, sliding his fingers along her jaw, tilting her face toward his. She didn't flinch — her gaze locked on his, steady, defiant.
The first kiss wasn't gentle. It was the kind you give someone who doesn't scare easily. She answered in kind, her fingers curling into his shirt, dragging him closer. Their tongues clashed, wet and aggressive, as if they were fighting for dominance. Alexander's hands moved down to her dress, grabbing the fabric and tearing it apart with a sharp, desperate sound.
Lucy didn't hesitate. She tore at his shirt, buttons flying everywhere. Her nails dug into his skin, leaving red marks. They were both breathing heavily, the sound of their ragged breaths mingling with the distant rumble of thunder. Clothes were discarded, torn, and forgotten as they lost themselves in the raw, primal need that consumed them.
He pushed her back, his hands rough on her thighs as he forced them apart. He dropped to his knees, his mouth finding her center. He ate her out with fierce intensity, his tongue rough and demanding, licking and sucking her clit. He pushed two fingers inside her, curling them to hit that spot that made her scream. He fingered her hard, his tongue never stopping, pushing her higher and higher until she was a writhing, screaming mess, her body convulsing with pleasure as she came hard on his face.
Alexander stood, his lips glistening, and grabbed her by the hips, lifting her effortlessly. Lucy wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms snaking around his neck. He carried her to the large leather couch, laying her down gently despite the urgency of their actions. Her body was flushed, her breath coming in short gasps.
He positioned himself between her legs, his cock hard and ready. With one swift thrust, he entered her, filling her completely. Lucy moaned, her nails digging into his back as she pulled him deeper. They moved together, their bodies slick with sweat, their breaths mingling in harsh, desperate pants.
Alexander's thrusts were deep and powerful, each one sending waves of pleasure through Lucy's body. She met his every move, her hips lifting to match his rhythm. The room filled with the sound of their flesh slapping together, the couch creaking under their weight.
"Harder," she gasped, her voice hoarse with desire. "Fuck me harder."
He complied, his hips slamming into hers with increased force. The intensity of their coupling was almost brutal, a raw, unbridled need driving them both. Lucy could feel the pressure building inside her, the coil of pleasure tightening with each thrust.
"Alexander," she cried out, her body tensing as the first waves of her orgasm crashed over her. "I'm coming!"
He groaned, his body shaking as he followed her over the edge, spilling himself deep inside her. They lay there, panting and spent, their bodies still entwined
Alexander rolled off her, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. Lucy turned to him, a wicked smile playing on her lips. She reached out, her fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, feeling the sweat and tension beneath his skin.
"Again," she whispered, her voice low and demanding. "I want more."
He turned to her, his eyes dark with desire. "You're insatiable," he growled, but there was a smirk on his face. He rolled on top of her, his body pressing her into the couch. His hands roamed her body, rough and possessive, grabbing her breasts, pinching her nipples until she gasped.
Lucy arched her back, pushing herself against him. "I need you," she breathed, her voice a desperate plea. "Fuck me again."
He didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed her thighs, pulling them apart roughly. He positioned himself at her entrance, his cock already hard and ready. With a single, powerful thrust, he entered her, filling her completely. Lucy cried out, her nails digging into his back as she pulled him deeper.
Their bodies moved together in a frenzied rhythm, their breaths coming in harsh, desperate pants. The room filled with the sound of their flesh slapping together, the couch creaking under their weight. Alexander's thrusts were deep and powerful, each one sending waves of pleasure through Lucy's body.
"Harder," she gasped, her voice hoarse with desire. "Fuck me harder."
He complied, his hips slamming into hers with increased force. The intensity of their coupling was almost brutal, a raw, unbridled need driving them both. Lucy could feel the pressure building inside her, the coil of pleasure tightening with each thrust.
"Alexander," she cried out, her body tensing as the first waves of her orgasm crashed over her. "I'm coming again!"
Alexander's hands roamed her body, rough and possessive, as he explored every inch of her. He gripped her hips, pulling her closer, his breath hot against her ear. "Turn around," he commanded, his voice low and demanding. "I want to see that perfect ass of yours."
Lucy complied, turning onto her hands and knees, her body trembling with anticipation. Alexander positioned himself behind her, his hands gripping her hips firmly. He leaned down, his tongue tracing a path up her spine, making her shiver. His hands moved to her ass, squeezing and massaging, his fingers digging into her flesh.
He spread her cheeks, exposing her most intimate place. He leaned in, his tongue circling her tight hole, teasing and probing. Lucy gasped, her body tensing at the unexpected sensation. He continued to tease her, his tongue and fingers working in tandem, preparing her for what was to come.
Alexander reached for a bottle of lube, pouring a generous amount onto his fingers. He rubbed it onto her, his fingers slipping inside her, stretching and preparing her. Lucy moaned, her body relaxing as she pushed back against his hand, wanting more.
He positioned himself at her entrance, his cock hard and ready. He pressed against her, slowly pushing inside, inch by inch. Lucy gasped, her body tensing as she adjusted to the invasion. Alexander moved slowly at first, giving her time to adapt, his hands gripping her hips tightly.
As she relaxed, he began to move faster, his thrusts becoming deeper and more powerful. The room filled with the sound of their flesh slapping together, their breaths coming in harsh, desperate pants. Alexander's hands roamed her body, grabbing her breasts, pinching her nipples, sending waves of pleasure through her.
"Harder," she gasped, her voice hoarse with desire. "Fuck me harder."
He complied, his hips slamming into hers with increased force. The intensity of their coupling was almost brutal, a raw, unbridled need driving them both. Lucy could feel the pressure building inside her, the coil of pleasure tightening with each thrust.
He groaned, his body shaking as he followed her over the edge, spilling himself deep inside her. They collapsed onto the couch, panting and spent, their bodies still entwined, the scent of sex and sweat heavy in the air.
Lucy turned to him, a satisfied smile on her face. Her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest.