Miss Him?

The sun was barely up, but the Lopez estate was already a hive of frantic activity. Ariana woke to the distant, muffled sounds of crystal clinking and the rhythmic, hurried footsteps of the staff. She lay still for a long time, staring at the canopy of her bed, her body feeling heavy and strange.

She moved to the bathroom like a sleepwalker. As she stepped into the steaming spray of the shower, the hot water hit the sensitive skin of her shoulder and thighs, sending a sharp, electric jolt through her core. Her fingers tentatively brushed the pale curve of her hip, and suddenly, she wasn't in the shower anymore. She was back in that velvet-lined changing room. She could feel the rough drag of Mateo’s thumb, the searing heat of his breath, and the terrifying, delicious weight of his dominance.

A slow, pulsing ache blossomed between her legs—a heavy, insistent thrumming she had never felt before.

"God, Ariana," she whispered, her forehead leaning against the wet tiles.

She dressed quickly in a simple sweater and jeans, her heart racing as she headed downstairs. She expected to see him. She expected that heavy, dark gaze to meet hers at the breakfast table, pinning her in place before the day even began.

But the head of the table was empty.

"Morning, Ari!" Cami chirped, barely looking up from a mountain of floral arrangements. "Coffee is fresh. Don't mind the mess, the caterers are losing their minds."

"Where’s... where’s your father?" Ariana asked, trying to keep her voice casual as she poured a cup of coffee.

"Oh, Dad’s been gone since five," Cami said, distracted by a seating chart. Something about the security for tonight. He said he probably won't be back until the guests start arriving."

The disappointment hit Ariana like a physical blow. She sat down, but the house felt cold despite the roaring fireplaces. She told herself she was relieved. She told herself that a day without his suffocating presence was exactly what she needed to find her sanity. But as the hours dragged on, she realized the truth: she was looking for him in every shadow. Every time a door opened, her pulse spiked; every time a deep voice echoed in the hall, she turned her head.

She missed him. She missed the danger. She missed the way he made her feel like she was the only thing in the room worth breaking.

By 8:00 p.m., the transformation was complete. The house was bathed in gold light, the scent of expensive lilies and pine heavy in the air. Ariana stood at the top of the grand staircase, her fingers trembling as she adjusted the red silk dress. It was scandalous—backless, held up by thin gold chains, hugging every curve she had discovered the day before.

She scanned the crowd of tuxedos and gowns below, her breath hitching. And then, she saw him.

Mateo was standing by the mahogany bar, framed by the flickering light of the fireplace. He was in a midnight-black tuxedo that made his shoulders look impossibly broad, his white shirt a stark, crisp contrast to his tanned, scarred hands. He looked like the apex predator of this entire glittering jungle.

Their eyes met across the vast, crowded hall.

Her body reacted instantly—her nipples hardening against the silk, a sharp, wet heat blooming between her thighs. She felt exposed, as if he could see right through the red fabric to the marks he had left.

Mateo’s glass stopped halfway to his lips. In his mind, the ballroom was already empty. He wasn't thinking about the board members; he was imagining the sound the red silk would make as he ripped it from her body. He saw the way her chest rose and fell in jagged breaths, the way her hand flew to her throat. He knew. He knew she had spent the day looking for him. He knew he had occupied her every thought just as she had occupied his.

The "Ice Surgeon" was a mask he wore for the world, but as he looked at the girl in the red dress, the mask began to melt, leaving only the raw, unadulterated hunger of a man who was done waiting to claim what was his.

He began to move toward her, the crowd parting like a wave, his eyes locked onto hers with a promise of total destruction.