"What did you say?"
His voice came out low, quiet, but there was a sharpness to it that made Ariel flinch. Alex's eyes sparkled with a kind of mischief, but it wasn't playful, it was laced with something heavier. Something dangerous.
"Nothing," he said a beat later, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his lips. But she noticed the shift. Something had cracked, and he was covering it up.
Before she could push further, he added, "I'll go prepare your bath. There's a fresh towel in the lower compartment of my cabinet. Use that. You'll catch a cold if you stay in those wet clothes."
Ariel just nodded, her voice lost somewhere in the storm inside her chest. "T-Thanks..."
Her fingers curled tightly at her sides as she made her way to the cabinet. The echo of his voice still lingered in the room, wrapping around her like a second skin. She crouched to grab the towel, the scent of him faint but unmistakable on everything she touched, wood, fabric, even the damn air.
Why was she feeling like this?
Why did his voice make her heart clench?
She hurriedly undressed, wrapping the towel around herself, her damp hair dripping slowly down her back. She sat on the edge of the bed, knees drawn to her chest, trying to still her heartbeat. Her thoughts were in chaos.
A few days ago, she would have punched him for looking at her the way he did. But now? Now his gaze set her on fire. One moment, he was teasing her like a cruel prince; the next, he held her like the world might shatter if he let go.
She heard the bathroom door open and turned instinctively.
Alex stepped out, shirtless, his torso glistening with droplets that trailed along the ridges of lean muscle and tattoos she hadn't noticed before. He was effortlessly beautiful, like sin carved into flesh. His eyes locked with hers.
He grinned. That damn lazy grin.
"Should we bathe together, dear?"
Ariel froze.
Her jaw dropped slightly as the air around her thickened. "W-What?!"
Alex's eyes twinkled with amusement, but his body was still. Watching her. Measuring her.
She didn't reply. Couldn't. Instead, something inside her snapped, not in anger, not in attraction, but in desperate need for clarity.
"Alexander," she said, her voice low but steady, standing to face him. "I need to ask you something. And I want the truth."
He blinked once, surprised by her sudden seriousness. "Alright," he said after a pause, crossing his arms, that smirk still playing on his lips. "Ask."
"You said you're the CEO of the Fountain Foundation," she began, each word steady despite the nervous thrum in her chest. "But I looked it up. There's no public record of your name anywhere. And you called yourself a mafia boss? Seriously, Alex? That's not even funny. We're not living in some twisted mafia novel. Who even says that in real life?"
There. She'd said it. Finally.
He stared at her for a long moment, and then, he laughed.
A real laugh.
A deep, throaty sound that echoed through the room like a melody laced with danger.
"Oh sweetheart," he said, wiping the corner of his eye. "I'm not lying."
"Prove it," she snapped. "Because I don't believe a single word coming out of your mouth."
His smile faltered just slightly. Enough for her to notice.
Then he stepped forward, closing the space between them like a shadow swallowing the sun. "You want proof?" he asked, voice dropping, darker now. "I could show you things that would shatter your little world, Ariel."
His fingers brushed a lock of hair from her face.
"But," he added softly, "you'd hate me for it."
She opened her mouth to reply, but his next words derailed every thought in her head.
"I love it when you say the word sex."
Her brain short-circuited. "Wh-what?!" she choked, eyes wide.
Before she could retreat, he leaned in, lips brushing hers, softly at first, like he was asking for permission. Then deeper, more demanding. Ariel's breath caught. Her body, traitor that it was, responded before her mind did.
Heat exploded between them.
He kissed her like she was something sacred and forbidden all at once.
Her hands pressed against his chest, but instead of pushing him away, she found herself clutching him-desperate, confused, craving more.
Then suddenly, she was lifted.
"Alex-!"
She gasped as he carried her effortlessly into the bathroom, the towel slipping slightly on her shoulder. Her heart hammered against her ribcage.
"Alex... stop..." she whispered, breathless.
He did. Instantly. His chest rose and fell as he steadied himself. Their lips were inches apart. His gaze held something different now, not just lust.
Regret?
"Sorry," he murmured, eyes not leaving hers. "I couldn't control myself."
Ariel looked at him, dazed, breathing hard. "I can see that..."
Her gaze dropped involuntarily. Her eyes widened again, and she spun around so fast she nearly tripped.
"I'll leave you to... calm yourself down."
She barely managed the sentence, cheeks burning hotter than the bathwater.
Before he could say another word, she rushed out, slamming the door behind her. She could hear his soft chuckle through it. That infuriating, cocky chuckle.
She buried her face in her hands and screamed silently.
What. The. Hell. Was. Happening.
---
Hours Later
The house had gone still. Rain tapped gently on the windows, filling the silence with a melancholic rhythm. The air was warmer now, calmer. And so was Ariel...somehow.
She lay curled beneath the blanket on the large bed, the tension in her body finally giving way to sleep.
Alex entered the room quietly, his footsteps muffled by the rug. He paused at the sight of her. Soft, peaceful, vulnerable. The girl who kept disarming him without even trying.
He walked to the bed, knelt beside it, and gently pulled the blanket higher over her shoulder.
His hand lingered for a second.
Then he slipped beside her, just close enough to hear the steady sound of her breathing. He closed his eyes, the storm outside fading into the background.
For the first time in a long while, Alex Moretti allowed himself to sleep without nightmares.
---
The Next Morning
Ariel groaned, stretching lazily. Her body felt heavy, as if the night had taken more out of her than it gave. She blinked blearily at the space beside her.
Empty.
"Such a jerk..." she muttered.
"Excuse me?" came his voice from the bathroom, dripping with fake offense.
Ariel shot up, startled. "You're going out?"
Alex emerged, towel slung over his shoulder, still drying his damp hair. "Good morning to you too, sweetheart."
"Don't call me that," she grumbled, pulling the blanket over her chest. "We're not dating."
He tilted his head, pretending to think. "Right. We're not dating."
She nodded firmly.
"We're engaged."
"What?!" she blurted, color rushing to her cheeks.
He grinned devilishly. "You enjoy my flirting."
"No, I-!"
"Yes, you do."
He moved closer, that same cocky confidence practically oozing from him. Her breath caught in her throat as he whispered:
"And I'll enjoy watching you ride me too."
Her mind imploded.
"WHAT?!"
She grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it at him.
"Pervert!" she shouted, completely red now.
He caught the pillow with ease, his laughter bubbling out of him as if her reaction was the best thing he'd ever seen. "You're fun when you're flustered."
She hid her face in her hands, heart pounding.
This man was insane.
Infuriating.
Addicting.
A dangerous pull wrapped around her heart, dragging her toward him despite every warning in her head.
And as he stood there, half-naked, grinning like the devil himself, she felt the first tendrils of something darker creep into her chest.
Dread.
And something else.
Something she wasn't ready to name.
Not yet.
---