001

Cassandra’s POV

“Oh shit, I’m late!” I blurted, staring at the time on my phone. My heart sank. I was some minutes late for my dinner date, and tonight wasn’t just any date..it was special. I’d spent forever curling my hair, lining my lips, making sure the red dress hugged me in all the right places. And now? I was late. 

“But it’s worth it,” I muttered to myself, forcing a grin at my reflection in the mirror. “I look great.”

And I did. The sleeveless red dress stopped just above my knees, my black stilettos adding a dangerous edge. A tiny purse dangled from my hand, and my makeup was just enough to glow without screaming try-hard. My auburn hair cascaded in loose waves down my back. For once, I felt flawless.

Tonight was supposed to be everything. Nicholas, my boyfriend had invited me out, and I already knew what was coming. We’d been together since college, six years of ups, downs, late-night study sessions, cheap pizza dates, and stolen kisses in library corners. Today was our anniversary. Six years. A lifetime for some. And I knew he was going to propose.

Ring. Marriage. Happily ever after. That was the script.

At least, I thought it was.

My phone buzzed sharply, dragging me back to reality. Nicholas’s name flashed across the screen, and panic struck me like a whip.

“Crap..crap..crap!” I hissed, fumbling as I swiped to answer. “Hey, babe, I’m so sorry. Traffic is insane, but I’ll be there in a few minutes, promise.”

I could hear the tightness in his breathing, that edge of annoyance he always got when things didn’t go his way. But tonight, I told myself, he wouldn’t stay mad. Tonight was too important.

The cab screeched to a stop outside the hotel. I shoved bills at the driver..it cost me an arm and half a leg, but who cared? Tonight would be worth it. Tonight would change everything.

As I pushed through the revolving doors, I quickly texted my best friend: I think he’s gonna propose. My heart fluttered with excitement. Her reply came as I crossed the hotel lobby, and my eyes dropped to the glowing screen.

Big mistake.

“Wha..” The word cut off as I collided into something solid.

Not something. Someone.

My body jolted back, and pain shot up my shoulder. “Ow..sorry, sorry!” I gasped. For a second, I thought I’d smacked into a wall. But the walls didn’t radiate heat. Walls didn’t smell like expensive cologne.

I lifted my gaze, and froze.

This wasn’t a wall. This was a chest. A broad, sculpted, perfectly toned chest. His shirt was only halfway buttoned, teasing firm abs that gleamed under the chandelier’s light. My throat went dry. My mind blanked. Who the hell had abs like this, on casual display, in the middle of a hotel lobby?

“Holy shit,” I whispered under my breath, before his quiet throat-clearing snapped me back into my body.

Mortified, I stammered, “I’m so sorry!” I bowed my head, heat flooding my cheeks. Then I risked a glance upward, which immediately wished I hadn’t.

He was breathtaking. The kind of breathtaking that stole the air from your lungs and left you dizzy. High cheekbones. A strong jawline. Tousled gray-streaked hair that looked both messy and intentional, as if he’d just rolled out of someone’s bed, or a photoshoot. His lips..God, those lips were full, slightly parted, painted the color of sin. And his eyes…they pinned me like prey.

How could God pour so much beauty into one man? How was that even fair?

“Are you okay, Miss?” His voice was smooth, low, and edged with something I couldn’t place. Concern? Amusement? Dangerous curiosity?

I nodded too quickly, like a bobblehead. “Yes! Totally fine!” My voice cracked, betraying me. My mind screamed at me to walk away, to stop staring, to stop imagining things I shouldn’t.

Because one look at him and I knew he was older. Way older. At least twenty years my senior. And yet…Why was my stomach tightening? Why were my thighs pressed together?

Pathetic. I was pathetic. I had a boyfriend, Nicholas, the man who’d probably be my fiancé by the end of the night, and here I was, practically drooling over a stranger.

I spun away, nearly tripping on my heels, and stormed into the elevator. My reflection in the mirrored wall mocked me.

“Nice try, Cassandra,” I hissed at myself under my breath. “You’re not that desperate. You’re not that bored. He’s just an older man. A very, very hot older man.”

The elevator dinged, saving me from my spiral, and the doors slid open. I forced my nerves down and stepped out, scanning the hallway. Relief bloomed when I spotted Nicholas leaning casually against the wall.

“Babe!” I waved, forcing a smile. He looked good, clean-cut, crisp white shirt, black slacks, that familiar boyish charm. Safe. Predictable. Everything I’d wanted for years.

But his expression wasn’t warm. His brows knitted, his jaw tight.

“You’re late,” Nicholas snapped. “I told you we couldn’t be late.”

I shrank, guilt pricking me. “I’m sorry traffic, you know how it gets. Please don’t be mad.”

Would my lateness ruin the proposal? Would he hold it against me? I bit my lip as he led me down the hall.

The door to the suite swung open, and I braced myself for romance, rose petals, champagne, maybe even a velvet box.

But instead, my breath caught in my throat.

Seated casually on the leather sofa, legs crossed, a glass of whiskey in hand, was him.

The stranger. The man from the lobby.

He looked far too comfortable, far too entertained. His smirk spread slow, deliberate, as his eyes locked on mine.

“Babe, I think we entered the wrong room…” I whispered, already backing a step.

But Nicholas shook his head and grinned. “Good evening, Mr. Blackwell. I hope you didn’t wait long.”

My stomach dropped. Mr. Blackwell? Nicholas knew him?

The man ignored Nicholas entirely, his smirk curling sharper as he said, “We meet again, Ms…” He let the words hang in the air like smoke.

Heat flushed my skin. My pulse thundered in my ears. Trouble. I could feel it radiating off him.

This wasn’t just any man. This was someone dangerous. Someone I should never have met.

And yet fate had thrown him in my path twice already.

What the hell did Nicholas want with a man who looked this dangerous?