Chapter 2 Chloe is my daughter

Lina's POV

Tonight I was going out to have fun. I stood in front of my closet, feeling reckless and determined.

I pulled out a black dress I'd bought months ago but never had the courage to wear. It hugged every curve, leaving little to the imagination. No underwear—tonight called for bold choices.

Stiletto heels made my legs look endless. Blood red lipstick replaced my usual soft pink gloss.

The woman in the mirror was a stranger—confident, dangerous, nothing like the girl who'd cried over Jasper.

I grabbed my purse, tossing in the basics plus a condom I'd impulsively bought earlier.

Jasper thought I was beneath him? Fine. Someone else would think differently.

The bar was exactly as Chloe had described—pulsing music, flashing lights, and packed with bodies moving to the beat. I pushed through the crowd toward the VIP section where Chloe had booked us a table.

When I reached the roped-off area and gave Chloe's name to the hostess, she led me to a private booth overlooking the dance floor.

But instead of finding Chloe waiting for me, there was a man sitting in our reserved booth.

The man was devastatingly attractive, mature, broad-shouldered, and impossible not to stare at. Where the hell was Chloe? And who was this mysterious stranger occupying our table?

I approached the booth hesitantly, my heart racing. "Excuse me," I said, trying to sound confident despite my nerves. "Are you... did Chloe send you? I'm Lina."

"Yeah."The man's eyes traveled slowly over me, his gaze intense and appreciative. There was something magnetic about the way he looked at me, making my heart race.

"Chloe won't be joining us tonight," he said, his voice deep and smooth. "She's... indisposed."

"Indisposed?" I slid into the booth across from him, confusion creeping into my voice. "What do you mean? She's the one who set this up."

He leaned back against the plush booth, completely at ease while I felt increasingly unsettled. "Let's just say your friend had a change of plans. But don't worry—I'm more than happy to keep you company tonight."

The way he said it made my pulse quicken, though I couldn't tell if it was from excitement or alarm. There was something about this man that screamed power and control, and I found myself oddly captivated by it.

"I don't even know your name," I said, trying to regain some composure.

A slow smile spread across his lips. "Adrian," he said simply.

The name rang a bell somewhere in my mind, but I pushed the thought away. Tonight wasn't about thinking.

He signaled the waitress, ordering top-shelf whiskey for himself and another cocktail for me. Throughout our conversation, I found myself leaning forward, drawn to him like a moth to flame. Every time our fingers accidentally brushed reaching for our drinks, electricity sparked between us.

"Chloe explained the... arrangement, didn't she?" I asked, tracing the rim of my cocktail glass.

His eyes darkened as they followed the movement of my finger. "She did. And I have to say, I was very interested."

Heat bloomed in my cheeks. "Tell me honestly, how do you find me?"

His gaze swept over me with undisguised hunger. "Absolutely captivating."

When his leg pressed against mine beneath the table, I didn't move away. The contact sent a thrill up my spine, settling low in my belly with a warm pulse of desire.

"And I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to take you home with me tonight."

"You probably have she-wolves lining up to fuck you," I whispered, trying to maintain some semblance of control. "Don't toy with me."

"I don't waste words," he said, reaching across to tilt my chin up, forcing me to look at him.

His eyes flashed with something primal. "Trust me, Lina. You are very much wanted."

The intensity of his gaze made my breath catch. For weeks, I'd felt unwanted, discarded. But the hunger in Adrian's eyes was unmistakable.

I felt my pussy clench again, another flood of wetness soaking through my panties. I reached for my wine glass, taking a long sip to hide my reaction.

"I should go," I managed to say, my voice embarrassingly husky. "It's getting late."

"Let me drive you home," he offered.

"I can call a ride," I protested weakly.

"I insist," Adrian said, his hand coming to rest at the small of my back—a touch that sent a shock of electricity up my spine. "Unless you'd prefer not to spend any more time in my company?"

Our eyes locked in silent challenge. I knew I should leave, knew this was moving too fast, but the heat between my legs and the empty ache in my chest demanded satisfaction.

I surrendered with a slight nod.

In the back of the car, the tension between us grew heavier with each passing minute.

The leather seats creaked as Adrian shifted closer, his powerful thigh pressing firmly against mine. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the intoxicating blend of his cologne and raw masculinity.

"Are you afraid of me?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

I met his gaze, pulse hammering. "No."

His lips curved into a predatory smile. "Then why are you sitting so far away?"

Before I could respond, he moved with Alpha speed, pulling me onto his lap in one fluid motion. I gasped as I felt the hard planes of his chest against my back, the unmistakable ridge of his erection pressing against my ass. My pussy throbbed in response, soaking my panties as his hands circled my waist.

"Feel what you do to me," he growled, one hand sliding up to cup my breast through my dress while the other gripped my hip, grinding me against his hardness. "I've barely touched you and I'm already rock hard."

My cunt clenched at his crude words, wetness pooling between my thighs. I arched my back instinctively, pressing against him.

"I can feel how much you want me," I whispered breathlessly.

"I bet you're soaked for me, too," he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. "I can smell your arousal from here. Your sweet little cunt dripping for me."

I should have been offended by his bluntness, but instead, I felt another rush of wetness between my legs. God, he was right—I was embarrassingly wet, my body betraying how desperately I wanted him.

"My hotel is nearby," he said, his voice rough. "But I need to hear you say it, Lina. Is this what you want?"

In answer, I pulled him back to me, pressing my lips against his ear.

"Yes," I whispered. "I want this. I want you."

The rest of the night blurred into sensations: the cool sheets of his hotel room bed, the heat of his skin against mine, the way he whispered my name like a prayer. For those hours, there was no pain, no rejection, no loneliness—just the two of us, finding solace in each other's bodies.

With Adrian, I felt wanted. Desired. For one night, that was enough.

Morning came with golden sunlight streaming through curtains we'd forgotten to close. I woke slowly, aware of a warm, solid body beside me, a strong arm draped possessively around my waist.

For a moment, I allowed myself to enjoy it—this feeling of safety, of belonging. Adrian's chest rose and fell in the steady rhythm of sleep, his face softer in repose, making him look younger, less severe.

As memories of the night before flooded back, I felt a flush spread across my cheeks. I'd never been so uninhibited, so... demanding. Something about Adrian had unleashed a side of me I hadn't known existed.

As if sensing my thoughts, his eyes opened, instantly alert. No gradual waking for an Alpha, I supposed.

"Good morning," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep as he pulled me closer. "Sleep well?"

I nodded, suddenly shy in the harsh light of day. "Very well."

His fingers traced lazy patterns on my bare shoulder. "Any regrets?"

I considered the question seriously before shaking my head. "No. Last night was... exactly what I needed."

He smiled, a genuine smile that transformed his face. "Good."

We lay in comfortable silence for a few minutes before I gathered my courage to ask the question that had been nagging at me since I'd woken up.

"How do you know Chloe?" I asked, curious about their connection. "I mean, you seem a bit... mature for her usual circle of friends."

Adrian's expression shifted, a hint of something unreadable crossing his features before he smiled. "Chloe is my daughter," he said.