King's Palace

I woke up to golden silence.

Warm sunlight filtered through gauzy curtains, spilling over cream-colored sheets and casting honeyed light across a room I had never seen before. For a moment, I thought I was dreaming. Then, the velvet headboard, the Egyptian cotton sheets, and the faint smell of cedarwood hit me all at once.

I sat up, a wave of confusion flooding my senses. This wasn’t Elizabeth’s penthouse. This wasn’t my old house. This wasn’t anywhere I knew.

Then it came—the memory of last night in blurry flashes.

Euphoria. The club. The lights. The music. The man.

Calvin.

I turned, heart stammering in my chest, expecting to see him beside me- but the bed was empty. The other side of the mattress still held the dent of his body, the sheets warm from where he’d lain, but he was gone.

I pressed a hand to my temple. My head felt heavy, but not from alcohol—I hadn’t drunk enough for a hangover. Just exhaustion. Or maybe… disbelief.

I slowly stood, legs unsteady beneath me, and padded barefoot across the plush carpet toward the massive window.

What I saw nearly made me lose balance.

New York stretched beneath me like a painting, every towering building and winding road laid out in pristine detail, as if the city had bowed at my feet.

This was King’s Palace.

And not just any room.

This was the top floor. The suite only available by reservation through legacy clients—people who had spent a lifetime in power, in money, in prestige.

“What the hell,” I whispered, running a hand over my messy hair.

The living room was even more insane—floor-to-ceiling glass walls, sleek leather furniture, gold accents, a grand piano in the corner. It looked like something out of a billionaire’s fantasy. My stomach twisted in disbelief. I’d slept here. With him. I still didn't know what to believe more, even at my peak I still didn't have access to something like this. Eliza would almost die from shock when she heard this - my sister and I shared the same interest on topics like this.

My dress from last night was slung over the back of a velvet chaise lounge. My purse sat neatly beside it, my heels aligned like they’d been placed there by hotel staff.

And yet, even in the surreal elegance of it all, a bitter thought coiled in the back of my mind.

What was I doing here?

I didn’t do things like this. I didn’t sleep with strangers. I didn’t wake up in luxury suites with men I barely knew.

My heart clenched.

Philip had made me feel like garbage for even wearing a low-cut dress. He called me unfaithful for smiling at the waiter. And here I was. After one night of freedom, I’d done exactly what he said I would. No, he had moved on with Solara. He caged me. Suppressed me. Now I was free, so why did I still feel so much heartache?

The tears came hot and fast, biting the corners of my eyes. I blinked them away, refusing to let this moment spiral.

That’s when I heard the click of the suite door.

Footsteps. Calm. Measured.

I turned—and there he was.

Calvin Riego.

Still shirtless. Black leather pants hanging low on his hips. His hair slightly tousled and jawline defined with that same smug perfection it had last night. Only now, under sunlight, he looked even more unreal. His muscled abs and set chest were works of art, sculptured into perfection.

“I figured you’d be awake,” he said, his voice smooth and low like morning jazz. His bronze skin glinted in the morning sun.“You always had the kind of eyes that wouldn't sleep for long.”

I froze. “Excuse me?”

He grinned. “Sorry. That sounded less creepy in my head.”

He walked over to the bar counter and poured himself a glass of orange juice, offering me one with a lift of his hand.

I said nothing, just crossed my arms over my chest, presently aware that I was still wearing his oversized shirt.

When did I even wear this?

“You okay?” he asked gently.

I swallowed hard. “I don’t usually do this.”

“I figured.” His eyes didn’t leer. They simply watched. Calm. Honest. But somehow it also felt dangerous.

I nodded, the room turning suddenly silent as none of us said a word. Well until the words stumbled out of my mouth.

“King's palace?” I asked. I already knew where we were but I really wanted to confirm, plus it seemed like a good way to start up a conversation.

Trying to start a ‘normal’ conversation after a one night stand, I have really fallen.

Sigh.

At least it beat scrambling for my clothes and running out like I was kidnapped.

“Yes it is. I'm sure you must have seen the sign when you were coming in.” Calvin said matter of factly. “Or are you shocked that I was able to book a room here?”

I could feel some heat climbing to my cheeks. How could I tell Calvin that I was too busy clinging to his shirt that smelt like smoky, dry spices. Just wanting to escape from the fact that my ex-husband was engaged to my former best friend.

I felt pathetic.

“Well this room is actually exclusive to the Riego family or rather to my father.”

I could see Calvin's mouth moving but I wasn't listening anymore.

“I should go.”

“You can.” He took a sip of juice, then leaned casually against the counter. “Or you can stay, eat, and listen to a business proposition.”

That made me laugh—bitterly. “Wow. A business pitch? That’s how you wrap up your one-night stands?”

His smirk returned. “Only when the woman happens to be the most stunning person I’ve seen in a long time and looks like she was born to be in front of a camera.”

I stared at him, unsure if he was being serious. My cheeks warmed with seemed-like-but-could definitely-not-be-a blush. I didn't know whether it was the rich half italian accent that seemed both seductive and authoritative at the same time or the way he said it with that glint in his eyes as if wondering how I'd look without his shirt on - but the compliment that I had heard millions of times sounded very different this time, sending tingles down my spine.

He stepped forward then, slow and deliberate. “You’re breathtaking, Silvia. And not just last night. I knew it the second I saw you.”

My breath hitched. “Wait—how do you know my name?”

He arched a brow. “You told me last night.”

I shook my head. “No, I didn’t.”

He paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he recovered. “Then maybe I’ve seen you before. You look familiar. Modeling, maybe?”

“Wrong girl,” I said quickly.

He cocked his head. “You sure?”

“I’m just… someone passing through. I am sure after last night, anyone would seem familiar.” I pulled on my dress, brushing past him toward the door. “Thank you for… the hospitality. But I should really go.”

I felt his hand on mine before my mind was blinded by the heat that came from his masculine body as he pulled me to himself. Calvin Riego without a shirt should not be allowed, my knees went soft instantly as his arm wound round my waist.

“There are other ways you can thank me.” He said, his black eyes lighting up as if he wanted to burn me up. The heat in the room skyrocketed and I couldn't help but feel a slight warmth between my thighs.

My hand was squeezed between the both of us and I could feel the silent beating of his chest. My head was lowered but he was so close that if I raised my head our lips would collide.

Just kiss him, you know you want to.

I killed that voice immediately. This was just a one time fling and I wanted it to remain like that. I couldn't run away from my fears all my life.

“Like I said, I don't usually do this.” I said before pushing off slightly, untangling me from his warm embrace. Immediately I felt a sense of loss, the room suddenly turning cold once more, chasing that warmth away and giving me back my rationality.

He didn’t stop me. But as I reached for the handle, he said behind me, “I run a modeling and advertising firm. Deva Entertainment.”

I froze.

Of course. Of course. He was ‘that’ Calvin Riego. The name echoed in every fashion circle, every modeling board, every magazine. Co-CEO of the most exclusive talent firm in the city and termed the most eligible bachelor in the CITY'S GOSSIP for the last five years. I didn't know much about his rise but I had once heard my boss (during my modelling days) talk about him with respect and a bit of fear… my boss didn't fear anyone yet that shake in his voice was unmistakable.

He added casually, “If you ever change your mind, I'm just a call away..”

I turned slightly. “What does that mean?”

He smiled, all teeth and confidence. “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing each other again.”

god, I hated cocky men.

---

Calvin’s POV

She was gone by the time I stepped out of the shower.

The faint scent of Cocoa and something… sweet still lingered in the room, a testament to the woman who just left.

The room felt colder without her, like the sun had slipped behind the clouds even though it was still shining over the skyline. And the room mirrored my heart, I still couldn't pinpoint the reason why I was feeling this much for a woman I just met.

Silvia.

There was something about her. Something familiar. The way she moved. The way she carried a sadness that wasn’t loud—but deep. Like she was used to pretending it didn’t hurt.

I’d met a lot of women. Models. Heiresses. Actresses. They all wore masks.

But Silvia? She had wounds. Not for show, but the kind that were still bleeding beneath perfect skin.

I liked that about her.

She didn’t beg for attention. She didn’t boast. She didn’t flirt for gain. And that made her magnetic - almost irresistible and… different. That was why I knew she wouldn't give me her number.

Even though I knew that I could have been called a weirdo for this, I still slipped my card into the inner pocket of her purse while she dressed up.

It was the first time in years that I had ever been that desperate for a woman, even though it was a little gesture. I placed a palm on my chest, then heaved a sigh of relief. My heart had stopped beating so fast after the cold shower.

What was that

But I didn’t need to chase her.

She’d come back.

My phone rang on the bed; Father.

I groaned, all the joy and thrill that I had been building up just melted away into frustration. But I still had to pick the call, my Father never called for no reason. If it was not important then his secretary would have handled it - somehow I knew just what he was calling for.

---

Silvia’s POV

The elevator ride down felt like a dream unraveling.

When the doors opened and the lobby of King’s Palace came into view, I felt like an imposter all over again. Women in pearls and silk floated past me. Men in tailored suits nodded at the concierge like they owned time.

How did I walk in here yesterday without noticing all these, was I really that far gone?

I clutched my purse tightly, willing myself not to cry. My heart still ached and without Calvin to distract me, it all came rushing back.

Outside, the wind cut through my dress like a slap, waking me up for real.

I didn’t know what last night meant. I didn’t know who he really was. I didn’t know who I was becoming.

But I knew this much:

Something had changed.

Maybe it was the way he looked at me like I mattered.

Or maybe it was the fact that for the first time in a long time… I didn’t feel like a curse.

I got into Edward’s car as he pulled up beside the curb, not saying a word as he glanced at my rumpled dress and disheveled hair. His smirk was subtle but knowing.

“Rough night, Ms. Silvia?”

I stared ahead. “Let’s just go home.”

“Of course, of course.” Edward laughed, then he stared at me through the mirror. I could see his brown eyes twinkling with curiosity. “But if I could ask, did it work?”

I raised an eyebrow in confusion before it clicked. I would normally have ignored such a question from a cab driver who had no reason to know even an inch of my personal Life, but Edward wasn't just a cab driver to me… anymore.

A smile snuck its way to my face. “A bit, the night club was a good change of pace.”

Edward just nodded but I could already imagine his smile as he started the engine and zoomed off. Now all that remained was to survive Eliza's interrogative like questioning.