Beg For It

ARDEN

They were two kinds of mistakes in life.

The ones you could drink way

And the ones that showed up five years later in a black suit. hotter than hell, with a smirk that still made your thighs clench.

Guess which one just walked into the room?

The moment Rhett Maddox entered, the air shifted like it owed him something. Heads turned-mine included, even though I knew better. Even though I'd sworn on my favorite stilettos that I was over him.

Tall. Broad. Dangerous.

He looked like a man who broke things. And once upon a time, I was one of them.

I tightened my grip on the clipboard in my hand, refusing to let my fingers tremble. This wasn't high school. This wasn't the back seat of his Chevy with my dress bunched around my waist. I was a professional. A damn good one. I was here to plan a launch party, not relive the mistake that cost me my pride- and my heart.

He didn't see me at first. His eyes scanned the room like he was already bored. Same cocky tilt of his chin, same slow, predator's walk.

God, I hated that I still noticed.

I turned away, heart racing, and pretend to study the champagne tower like it hadn't taken my assistant ten minutes to make it lean that artistically.

"Still building walls?" a voice said behind me- deep, rough velvet. Familar.

I froze.

Then slowly turned.

And there he was. Up close.Smug. Beautiful. Impossible.

Rhett Maddox.

"Still breaking into places you don't belong?" I replied coolly, tiiting my head. I refused to show even a flicker of weakness. Not when every nerve in my body was screaming.

He chuckled, the sound low and rich and maddening. "Sweetheart, this place is mine".

My mouth went dry.

"No," I said, my lips tightening. "The club belongs to Crimson Events for the next forty-eight hours. So unless you're here to help hang the mood lighting or fold cocktail napkins-"

"I'm the owner, Arden" Rhett said directly

He took a step closer.

" And I don't take orders in my own house."

RHETT

She still tatsed like fire.

Even now, years later, I could feel the echo of her- hot mouth, sharp words, that way she'd fight me right up until the moment she gave in.

And God, did she give in beautifully.

Now here she was, heels high, attitude higher. Dressed in black like she was mourning my return. And still, somehow, the most alive thing in the room.

I hadn't planned on seeing her. Not like this. Not here. But fate had a wicked sense of humor, and I wasn't about to let this opportunity slip.

"I don't remember hiring you," I said smoothly, watching her lips twitch in that way they always did before she told me to go to hell.

"I don't need your permission," She shot back.

"Crimson signed a contract with your management team. I'm here to execute the event."

I leaned in, just enough to smell the faint trace of jasmine on her skin.

"And what exactly are you planning to execute, Arden?" I whispered. "Because I remember you being pretty damn good at surrendering."

Her eyes narrowed to slits.

Arden scoffed "If you think I'm still that girl you walked away from-"

"I know you're not," I said, cutting her off. "That girl begged."

A flush crept up her neck, betraying her just a little.

"Maybe I've learned how not to," she said.

I smiled. Slow. Wicked.

"We'll see."