Richard's Pov
The city lights blurred beneath the tinted windows as I drove. The mansion felt suffocating, and I wanted air, distance, clarity.
My mind refused to stop replaying Audrey—the sharp glance, the chin lifted, the subtle defiance that irritated and intrigued me in equal measure. I needed to think. Clear my head. And there was only one person who could help me do that, one person who understood exactly how to undo the tension building inside me.
The hotel lobby which i owned was nearly empty, the kind of sterile quiet I preferred. I moved through it with the confidence of a man who knew every angle, every exit, every hidden camera. Security followed discreetly, but I didn't need them yet. Not tonight.
Room 807. I keyed in the code. The suite smelled faintly of expensive linen and lingering perfume. I left my coat on the chair, boots kicking off softly.
I picked up my phone and called. Her number.
"Davina," I said when she answered. Low, controlled, almost neutral.
"Yes?" Her voice carried just the right amount of curiosity, just enough to show she knew I didn't call for small talk.
"I want you at Room 807 in thirty minutes," I instructed. "Wear something sexy. Not casual. Leave your attitude at the door."
A pause. "As you wish, sir."
I hung up and leaned against the window, watching the city stretch beneath me. Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes to unload, to clear my head. Thirty minutes to remind myself that Audrey was irrelevant here—just a business arrangement. That I could separate emotion from strategy.
The door clicked, and she stepped in. Davina. Confidence in every step, elegance in every line, and that familiar spark in her eyes that had once been my obsession. She wore exactly what I requested—sexy, commanding, everything designed to remind me who controlled the situation.
We didn't speak immediately. The tension was heavy, the kind that made your skin tight, made your body respond before your mind even knew what was happening.
I didn't give her time to speak.
I pulled her toward me. Hard. She stumbled slightly but didn't protest—she never did. She knew why I called her.
"This is not a discussion," I said firmly. "You're here because I need you."
She looked up at me with that familiar smile. Confident. Expecting this.
I pushed her back against the door, crowding her space, making sure she understood the tone. This wasn't affection. It wasn't romance. It was control and release—nothing more.
She nodded once. Silent. Compliant.
I moved her toward the bed without slowing down. There was no tenderness in it, no hesitation. We both knew each other too well for that. This was something we had done before—many times—and neither of us pretended it meant anything.
The intimacy was rough, fast, and deliberate. No emotions involved. No promises. Just bodies, heat, and familiarity.
—-----
The suite was silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioning. We lay side by side, not touching, not speaking, just letting the silence stretch between us. My mind, for once, was uncluttered. For now.
She finally turned toward me, a smirk dancing at the corner of her lips. "I heard you got married," she said, tone light, teasing, but with an edge that made me tighten my jaw.
I didn't answer immediately. Silence, patience, calculation. Then I leaned back against the headboard, eyes narrowing. "Marriage?" My voice was flat, controlled. "It's business. Nothing more."
Her gaze sharpened. "Business? You're enjoying it too much to call it that, Drake."
I let a corner of my lips twitch. "I said it's business," I repeated. Clear. Cold. Final.
She laughed softly, a sound that still irritated me, still ignited a spark I hated admitting existed. "Business," she echoed, leaning back. "I'll remember that."
I didn't respond. Because I didn't need to. Words could be twisted. Rules could be broken. But right now, Audrey didn't exist in this room. In this moment, it was just Davina, strategy, and control.
And that was exactly how I wanted it.