A night to remember

 SEIRRA'S POINT OF VIEW

I was already dressed.

The heels were clicking softly against the marble floor, and the silk of my wide-leg pants flowed with every step I took. My maids had already gotten everything ready—my bags were packed, everything labeled and zipped. From documents to heels to skincare—I wasn’t playing with this trip. Everything had to be perfect.

I took a deep breath and looked around.

My mansion was quiet, just the way I liked it. Elegant, dim, soft lighting on the staircase, a soft breeze through the hallway… Everything in here screamed peace. Power. Growth.

And I was proud.

I was so damn proud of myself.

From broken to billionaire… this version of me? She didn’t beg. She didn’t cry. She walked like she owned every room. Because she did.

I walked down and there she was—Becca. Waiting by the door. Her hands crossed tightly against her chest like she was trying not to cry.

“Don’t do that,” I mumbled, walking into her arms.

“Do what?” she sniffled, hugging me tight. “You’re literally flying across the world, and you want me to act like you’re just going downtown?”

I laughed softly and pulled back. “It’s just for the business conference, Becs. A few days max. I’ll be back before you even miss me.”

She rolled her eyes, blinking fast. “You already know I miss you before you even step out the door.”

I smiled. “You’ve been with me from the very bottom. You watched me climb, you helped me breathe when it felt like I was drowning. I’ll never forget you, Becs. Never.”

We hugged again. She squeezed me tight, and I let her.

Then the horn outside blew. My driver was ready.

My bodyguard appeared, opening the door, and I exhaled slowly. It was time.

Time to get on that jet and fly to Dubai.

Yeah, you heard me right.

A freaking international business conference in Dubai. Top tech investors. Global CEOs. Women who built empires and men who shook countries. That’s the room I was stepping into.

Me. Seirra Morgan.

Crazy, right?

I waved goodbye, blowing a kiss, and slid into the black SUV like the boss I’ve become. My team was already ahead of me—scheduling meetings, confirming arrival logistics, making sure my hotel suite was perfect and the conference badges were ready.

Everything was seamless.

I leaned my head back and watched the trees blur past the tinted glass.

A few years ago, I had nothing. No name, no strength, no hope. I was just a girl trying to survive a marriage that almost broke my soul.

But today?

Today I’m a woman with power in her walk and a future she owns.

Dubai, I’m coming.

And trust me…

You’re going to remember my name.

Four days.

That’s how long I had left before flying back.

The conference had gone well—more than well, actually. My pitch got a standing ovation, and I’d already received emails from two international partners who wanted to schedule a Zoom meeting by next week. It was insane. This was exactly what I worked for. Long nights, silent tears, coffee that could melt bones… it all led here.

But right now?

Right now I just wanted to breathe.

I slipped on a silk robe over my tank top and shorts, tied it loosely, and slid my feet into some flats. My suite was already breathtaking—floor-to-ceiling windows, soft jazz playing in the background, dim chandelier lights, and a soft scent of vanilla and oud lingering in the air—but I wanted to explore the hotel itself.

The place looked like it came straight out of a billionaire’s P*******t board. Dim, luxurious, and honestly kinda seductive with the lighting. Everything from the carpets to the gold trim on the walls screamed expensive.

I wandered down the hallway, fingers brushing the railing, admiring everything... until I saw him.

He was standing near the lounge entrance, speaking to someone on the phone, and I swear—he was made of sharp edges and money. Like those men who didn’t need to say too much because everything about them did the talking. Jet black suit, watch I could probably never pronounce, and a jawline that could slice my doubt in half.

Liam Foster.

I didn’t know who he was until someone from the bar whispered his name. Apparently, he was also attending the conference. A powerful CEO from New York, if I heard right. His name had weight. Influence. I wasn’t even sure how I hadn’t bumped into him earlier.

But that night?

He noticed me.

I’d just asked for a glass of wine when he approached. “You don’t look like someone who takes time off.”

I turned slowly, raising a brow. “That obvious?”

He chuckled—deep, smooth, arrogant but not in the annoying way. In the way that made you want to sit and argue with him just to hear more.

“You gave the keynote,” he said. “Impressive.”

I sipped my wine, watching him over the rim. “And you are?”

“Liam Foster.” He extended his hand.

I took it. Firm grip. Warm. Confident. Like he was used to people listening when he spoke.

“Well, Liam Foster, what brings you to this side of Dubai?”

He smiled, and I swear it was the kind of smile that could melt a girl’s defenses without even trying.

“Business. Power. And now… maybe a little curiosity.”

He looked right at me, and something about that stare—it was like he was seeing through every mask I wore. Every layer. I felt challenged. Intrigued. Slightly annoyed that I didn’t feel as in control as I always do.

Liam Foster was dangerous.

Not in a violent, toxic way. But in the “I’ll make you feel again” way.

And damn it…

I wasn’t ready for that.

Everything blurred after that. The night spun like silk, warm and dizzy, but not in a bad way. He held me close, kept me there, like I wasn’t just another woman to him.

But I didn’t know what to make of it. Maybe it was just the drinks. Maybe it was the loneliness. Maybe I was just tired of pretending like I didn’t feel.

So I let it happen.

And that night? That wild, blurry, crazy night?

It became a memory I didn’t want to erase.

Even if I never saw him again.