CHAPTER TWO

TWO DAYS LATER:

Elena’s hands trembled as she fastened the clasp of her necklace. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked pale and exhausted, like her body still carried the memory of two nights ago. The truth is, it did.

Her thighs ached faintly, a fading bruise still marked on her waist where his grip had been too tight, and her skin still felt hypersensitive of his every touch. No matter how many showers she took or how hard she scrubbed her skin, the memories clung to her.

Every time she closed her eyes, they returned without mercy. She hated herself for it, hated that guilt sat heavier in her chest and hated even more that forgetting wasn't as easy as she'd hoped it would be.

Tonight made everything worse. She wasn't just seeing Adrian. She had to stand beside him, smile at his family, and pretend nothing had changed. Pretend she was still the faithful woman he'd asked to marry him.

Elena drew in a slow breath, forced a smile into place, and walked downstairs. The Dimitri estate glittered under crystal chandeliers, marble floors reflecting soft gold light as waiters moved quietly through the small crowd with trays of champagne.

Adrian waited at the bottom of the stairs in a navy suit, handsome and relaxed, wearing that easy smile she had once fallen for. "You look perfect," he said warmly before leaning in to kiss her cheek. Her smile held, but something inside her tightened.

He hadn't kissed her lips. Maybe it meant nothing. Maybe he simply didn't notice the distance growing between them. Adrian had always believed what he wanted to believe. He saw the version of life that made sense to him and rarely questioned what lay beneath it. He didn't notice the hesitation in her smile or the way her body stiffened whenever he came too close.

Offering his arm, he smiled again. "Come on. My father will be here any minute. You'll finally get to meet him now that he's back after five years."

His father. Roth Dimitri. The name stirred a flicker of unease she couldn't explain. She reminded herself she was being ridiculous. Cities were enormous, and people crossed paths with strangers every day. There was no reason for her thoughts to wander back to a masked man she'd convinced herself she'd never see again.

Still, the feeling refused to leave. The conversations around them faded as the grand entrance doors opened, and every head in the room turned. A man entered, tall and broad, his presence swallowing the air. His gaze swept over the guests like a king surveying his kingdom.

And when his eyes locked on hers, Elena’s knees buckled. Him. The hair, his perfect jaw, and lips gave it away. He's the man from two nights ago. The stranger who had ruined her body and claimed her soul. He is Adrian’s father, Roth Dimitri?

The name now echoed like a curse. She hadn't seen him in flesh since she and Adrian started dating three years ago. His father was never around. He's a busy man. A fucking billionaire. One whose influence is felt by all but still unknown to many.

Her glass of champagne slipped from her fingers and shattered against the marble, the sound echo through the room as every guest turned to look at her.

"Elena?" Adrian's voice sounded distant. He glanced at the broken glass before signaling one of the staff to clean it up, completely unaware that the woman standing beside him looked as though the ground had disappeared beneath her feet.

Roth’s expression didn’t falter. His face betrayed nothing, but his eyes—God, his eyes devoured her. A slow, knowing burn that promised she belonged to him still, no matter the glittering ring on her hand.

“Elena,” Adrian said cheerfully, leading her forward to him, “this is my father. Roth Dimitri.”

She wanted to run, scream, and hide. But Roth extended his hand, and she had no choice but to take it. His palm engulfed hers, rough and hot, and a jolt shoot up her arm.

“Pleasure,” he said smoothly, though his voice carried the rasp of that night’s growls, the memory of him whispering filth against her ear as he fucked her.

Elena’s lips parted, but no sound came. Adrian grinned between them, blind to the fire licking the edges of the room. “Father, this is Elena. My future wife.”

"Future wife, huh?" Roth’s thumb brushed against her knuckles, sending lightning up her spine. His mouth curved just slightly. A private smirk meant only for her. Roth looked at his son. “I know. You told me you would introduce her today”

The words were nothing, yet everything to Elena. Her chest tightened, shame mixing with arousal until she could barely breathe. Dinner was torture. Adrian talked about business expansions, about investments and charity galas. Roth sat across from her, silent, watchful and every brush of his gaze stripping her bare. Elena tried not to squirm in her seat, tried to ignore the way his presence filled every corner of the table.

At one point, Roth reached for his glass, his fingers grazing the stem of hers deliberately, a ghost of last two night’s possessiveness in that touch. She jerked, nearly knocking her wine over.

Adrian frowned. “You okay?”

Elena forced a laugh. “Just a little nervous. Big night.”

Roth’s smirk was cruel. He knew exactly why she was trembling. After dinner, Adrian excused himself to speak with an old business partner while elena slipped into the corridor, desperate for air and anything that wasn't another second of pretending.

The silence in the hallway wrapped around her as she rested one hand against the wall and closed her eyes, her chest was tight, guilt pressing down on her like a vice.

But before she could return back, a shadow blocked her path. Roth. He stepped into the dim hallway, towering over her, his body like a wall with no way of escape.

“Going somewhere, little dirty fiancée?” His voice was low, edged with danger.

Her heart thundered. “Stay away from me.”

Roth leaned closer, his breath brushing her ear, the same way he had in the club. “After two nights ago? Do you think I could?”

Elena swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “It was a mistake. It can’t happen again.”

Roth chuckled darkly. “Mistake? You begged for me to ruin you. You screamed until you couldn’t breathe. That wasn’t a mistake. That was your truth.”

Her cheeks burned. Her thighs pressed together against the ache he’d reignited. “If Adrian ever finds out—”

“He won’t,” Roth cut her off, his hand bracing against the wall beside her head, trapping her in. “Because you’ll keep quiet. You’ll smile and play perfect fiancée. And all the while, you’ll remember my hands on you, my cock inside you, the way you came undone when I told you, you were mine.”

Elena breath stuttered. His words shredded her composure, pulling every filthy memory to the surface. “Stop,” she whispered, though her body leaned toward him.

“You don’t want me to stop.” His hand trailed down her arm, stopping just short of her waist. “You want me to remind you who owns you again, even if you wear his ring.”

She shivered. “This is wrong.”

“Wrong—" he murmured, lips inches from hers, “is what makes it unforgettable.”

Footsteps echoed down the corridor. Roth stepped back instantly, his expression schooled into cold indifference, as if nothing had happened.

Adrian reappeared, smiling warmly. “There you are. Father, are you stealing my fiancée already?”

The tension was unbearable. Elena forced a laugh, but her heart pounded so loud she was sure they could both hear it.

Roth’s eyes glittered with amusement, though his tone was smooth. “Just making conversation with her.”

But Elena knew better. Conversation wasn’t what passed between them. It was a forbidden fire neither of them could put out. And the worst part as she stood there staring at her fiancée father? She didn’t want to.