20

Mrs Harlan and Chef Amara both sighed as she walked out.

“I pray she heals one day, she has lost her parents and now she just got divorced.” Chef amara remarked.

“I really think she's trying her best to be fine but nothing is helping at all.”

Kendra opened the heavy front gate, the cool night air brushing against her skin like a secret.

Knox stood there under the soft glow of the porch lights, leaning casually against the frame of his sleek black car.

He looked like the storm he called her—tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a dark button-up that clung just right to his chest, sleeves rolled up to reveal his strong forearms.

His eyes, dark and intense, swept over her in that short deep V-neck gown, lingering on the curve of her thighs, the plunge of her neckline.

A slow, predatory smile curved his lips.

“Who are you?” Kendra questioned, then dismissed the bodyguards with a gaze.

“You know the name, Knox.” He said and she smirked, stepping out of the mansion and closing the gate behind her.

Her heart hammered, a mix of thrill and that nagging voice in the back of her mind—What the hell are you doing, Kendra? This man is practically a stranger.

But the whiskey still warmed her blood, and the ache from Richard’s message sat like a stone in her gut. Tonight, she didn’t want to be the careful, betrayed wife.

She wanted to be reckless, forget she ever married a liar and a selfish man.

“I never thought I’d hook up with a stranger,” she murmured as she slid into the passenger seat, the leather cool against her bare thighs.

“But here we are. It is what it is.”

Knox chuckled, making a deep sound that vibrated through the car as he started the engine.

“Stranger? We’ve been texting long enough for me to know you bite back. Besides, you're the one who said you don't do hangovers.”

He pulled out of the driveway, the mansion shrinking in the rearview mirror.

The drive was quiet at first, charged with unspoken tension. Streetlights flickered across his profile, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw, the way his fingers drummed lightly on the steering wheel.

She stole glances, wondering who this man really was. Is he rich enough for that watch glinting on his wrist? Dangerous enough that her skin tingled just being near him? She didn’t allow any escort to follow her at all, which was so stupid of her because right now she's scared.

They pulled up to his place after what felt like an eternity of loaded silence.

Kendra’s eyes widened as the gates swung open.

His mansion wasn’t just big—it screamed old money mixed with modern excess. Towering columns, sprawling wings that disappeared into manicured gardens, lights glowing from floor-to-ceiling windows that reflected the night sky.

A fountain bubbled softly in the circular drive, and the whole place felt like it belonged in a dream. Or a trap.

“You live here?” she asked, stepping out before he could open her door. Surprise colored her voice.

She’d pegged him for success, maybe, but this level of luxury? It unsettled her in a way that made her pulse quicken.

This house screams wealth, she thinks he's not really fully loaded.

Knox came around, his hand brushing the small of her back as he guided her toward the entrance.

“I can see you are surprised. I like keeping things interesting.” he said and she nodded.

“I can't believe you live here, do you own it?”

“Yes, this is my mansion, it belongs to me.” He replied softly.

“Wow, I thought I slept with a driver.” She remarked.

“Even if I was a driver, I drove you…

“Oh shut up, dummy.” Kendra cut in rudely and rolled her eyes.

He smiled.

The massive double doors opened before they reached them. Two maids in crisp uniforms stood just inside, their expressions polite but their eyes darting quick, knowing glances between Kendra and Knox.

One older woman offered a small smile. “Good evening, sir. And miss.”

Kendra felt the heat rise in her cheeks but held her head high.

Once inside the grand foyer—marble floors, crystal chandeliers dripping with light, art pieces that probably cost a lot, Knox leaned close.

“I’ve never brought a woman here before,” he said quietly, his breath warm against her ear. “You’re the first. Don’t mind the glances from the maid.”

She nodded, swallowing hard. Part of her wanted to believe him; another part screamed caution. They walked through echoing halls until they reached the back of the house, where glass doors opened onto a sprawling pool area.

“Can you swim?” He asked.

“Oh not really, still learning.” She replied.

The water shimmered under submerged lights, lounge chairs arranged invitingly around the edge, and beyond it, a view of perfectly landscaped grounds fading into darkness.

“Change into something comfortable,” Knox said, gesturing to a cabana. “I’ll meet you out here.”

"Hey dummy, take me there, i can't go myself!" Kendra shouted and he smiled before taking there.

“Everything is there,”he said and left.

“Stupid man.” She murmured.

Kendra walked into the luxurious room, her heart racing as she took off her gown.

She found a sleek black bikini, he must have prepared everything.

She put on the bikini and it fit perfectly, hugging her curves. She stepped out, the night air raising goosebumps on her skin.

Knox was already by the pool in swim trunks that sat low on his hips, his torso lean and sculpted, tattoos snaking across one shoulder.

He looked up, and the heat in his gaze made her breath hitch.

They settled onto wide lounge chairs by the poolside, the water lapping gently nearby. Knox poured drinks from a nearby bar cart—more whiskey for her, something smoother for himself.

The glass felt heavy in her hand as she took a sip, the burn familiar now.

“You fine?” he asked, his voice softer than before, eyes searching hers.

Kendra met his gaze.

“Yes,” she lied, then corrected herself with a small shrug. “No. But I’m here. That counts for something tonight.”

Their eyes locked.

“You said I'm the first lady in your mansion, how come you have the bikini and everything ready in that room?” She asked, staring at him.

“I asked the maid to get it ready on our way, since you wanted to talk, I was hoping we'd talk and the best place is here.”

“Hmmm.” She nodded.

The air thickened, heavy with possibility.

Knox leaned in slowly, his face inches from hers, their lips parting. She could smell his cologne, her pulse thundered.

For a heartbeat, she almost let him kiss her. Then she grinned and pushed him back gently with a hand on his chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath her palm.

“Not yet, storm chaser,” she teased, her voice breathy.