CHAPTER 5

The freezing burn of straight vodka was the only thing keeping Hazel tethered to the ground.

She sat at the sticky edge of the nightclub bar, the deafening bass of the speakers vibrating right through the wooden counter and into her bones. She tipped her head back, the ice in her glass clinking against her teeth as she swallowed the rest of her drink. The alcohol scorched her throat, hot and raw, but it barely touched the suffocating numbness sitting heavy in her chest.

She slammed the heavy glass down on the counter.

"Pour another one." Her voice cracked, sounding completely unrecognizable.

The bartender didn't ask questions. He just grabbed the bottle of vodka and filled her glass to the rim.

Hazel didn't wait. She picked it up, her fingers trembling slightly, and brought it to her lips, forcing the burning liquid down.

Three hours. That was all it had taken to completely obliterate her existence.

Three hours ago, she found out her fiancé was cheating on her. He had fallen in love with someone else. Just like that, a five-year relationship, the engagement, the marriage they had planned, the house they were supposed to buy—thrown away. Discarded like garbage. Her life was completely ruined. Everything she knew was gone.

She dragged a shaky hand through her hair. She was wearing a black mini dress with a plunging neckline, entirely backless, leaving the entire expanse of her spine exposed to the freezing blast of the club’s air conditioning. She hadn't dressed up to look good. She just needed to crawl out of her own skin. She needed to forget the world, to forget the agony tearing her chest apart. She didn't care about anything anymore.

High above the chaotic, sweaty crowd of the dance floor, hidden in the dark, soundproofed perimeter of the VIP balcony, a pair of piercing blue eyes tracked her every move.

He stood in complete silence. The piercing blue eyes watched the erratic, reckless way she threw back the vodka. They tracked the pale, bare skin of her back exposed in the dress. They watched the tight muscles of her throat work as she swallowed. He didn't blink. The gaze was completely calculating, locked onto her with a heavy, intense focus that missed absolutely nothing.

Down at the bar, the crowded air of the club suddenly felt suffocating. Hazel gripped the edge of the counter, a wave of intense dizziness flashing over her. The smell of cheap perfume, spilled beer, and sweat was making her stomach turn violently. She couldn't breathe. The bass was too loud, hammering directly into her skull.

She needed a restroom. She needed fresh air.

Leaving her empty glass on the counter, she grabbed her small purse and pushed away from the bar. Her legs felt incredibly heavy, uncoordinated and completely detached from her brain. She kept her head down, pushing blindly through the crush of bodies, aiming for the velvet-lined staircase at the back of the club.

Climbing the stairs was a physical battle. Her head spun wildly with every step. By the time she reached the top landing, the deafening noise of the ground floor had completely vanished, replaced by the heavy, thick silence of the second floor.

The hallway was lined with thick carpet and dimly lit wall sconces. Hazel swayed, bracing her bare shoulder against the wall. The air conditioning up here was biting, but it felt good against her flushed skin.

She walked blindly down the corridor, reaching for the brass handle of the nearest heavy mahogany door. She pushed it open, expecting an empty restroom.

Instead, she stepped into a dark, sprawling VIP lounge. The room smelled strongly of rich leather and expensive alcohol. The only light came from the massive windows overlooking the city skyline.

Hazel took a clumsy step inside, her tongue feeling thick and numb. She realized instantly she was in the wrong place. She pivoted on her heel to leave, but the thin spike of her shoe caught hard on the thick fringe of a heavy Persian carpet.

Her ankle rolled sharply.

A startled gasp punched out of her chest as she completely lost her balance. The room tilted violently. Gravity took over as she pitched forward into the shadows. She threw her hands out blindly, bracing for the hard, painful impact of the wooden floor.

But the floor never came.

Instead, she crashed directly into something incredibly solid. Something burning hot.

Before her brain could even register the physical impact, two massive hands shot out of the darkness and clamped violently onto her bare waist.

The grip was iron-tight. The large, warm fingers dug deeply into the exposed skin of her sides, completely arresting her fall and locking her firmly into place.

Hazel gasped for air, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs. She was completely dizzy, the room spinning in a sickening circle. She was sitting squarely on someone’s lap in the middle of a wide leather armchair.

She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the nausea, her hands resting flat against a broad, solid chest covered in the crisp, expensive fabric of a suit.

Slowly, the dizziness faded just enough for her to focus. She forced her heavy eyelids open and looked up.

The breath completely evaporated from her lungs.

Sitting in the dim light of the lounge, staring back at her with intense, piercing blue eyes, was Xavier Sterling.

Her ruthless CEO boss.

The absolute silence in the room was deafening. Hazel stared at the sharp, aristocratic cut of his jaw, the perfect knot of his tie, and the terrifying focus in his eyes. He was watching her intensely, his jaw set tightly.

Normally, she would have scrambled backward off his lap. She would have apologized a hundred times, mortified, terrified of his reaction. But her mind was completely blank.

The heavy fog of the vodka had stripped away her inhibitions, but more than that—her life was already in ruins. What could possibly go wrong from here? She didn't care about her job. She didn't care about the consequences. The only thing she cared about was the searing heat of his large hands gripping her bare waist, anchoring her to the physical world when everything else had shattered.

She didn't move. She just sat there, straddling his lap, her chest heaving as she stared directly into his eyes.

The tension in the air skyrocketed, turning so thick and heavy it felt like a physical weight pressing down on her chest.

Xavier didn't push her away. He looked at her intensely, his piercing blue eyes taking in her flushed face, her parted lips, and the heavy, shallow way she was breathing.

Slowly, deliberately, his right hand released its bruising grip on her bare waist. He moved his hand, his long fingers trailing down to capture her left hand. He lifted it slightly between them.

He didn't say a word as he looked directly at her ring finger.

It was completely bare. The only thing left was an angry red scratch mark from where she had violently ripped the diamond off three hours ago.

Xavier stared at the empty finger, his thumb slowly brushing over the scratch mark. The touch sent a violent, electric shiver straight up Hazel’s arm. He didn't drop her hand. He just shifted his intense blue gaze back up to her face.

"You smell good," Hazel whispered.

The words slipped out of her mouth naturally, completely unfiltered. Her voice was husky, slurred, and utterly stripped of any professional boundary. She leaned forward just a fraction, the movement reckless, drawn in by the sharp scent of cedarwood and raw masculinity radiating off his skin.

Xavier’s jaw tightened dangerously.

"You are crossing a very dangerous line right now, Hazel," Xavier warned, his voice a low, dark rumble that vibrated directly against her thighs. It wasn't his cold boardroom voice. It was rough, lethal, and dripping with raw tension. "If you don't get off my lap this second, there is no going back."

Hazel’s breath hitched. She couldn't speak. Her body felt like it was completely on fire.

And as she sat perfectly still, locked under his intense stare, she felt it. The unmistakable, rigid pressure pressing up firmly against the absolute center of her thighs.

He was hard beneath her.

The realization ignited a feral, desperate hunger deep inside her chest. She needed this. Her body was screaming for it. The agonizing pain, the hollow ache of being entirely unwanted—she needed to burn it all down. She needed something so intense, so physically consuming, that it would completely wipe the memory of her ruined life out of her head.

Hazel kept her eyes locked on his, and she deliberately shifted her hips.

She ground her center directly against his hardened length. The friction through the thin silk of her dress and his suit trousers was instant and electric.

Xavier let out a sharp, ragged hiss of breath, his jaw clenching so hard the muscle jumped.

"I don't care," Hazel breathed out, her voice breaking. Her free hand slid up his chest, her fingers curling into the expensive fabric of his suit jacket. She humped against him again, slower this time, applying heavy, deliberate friction. "I want you. Make me forget."

The last remaining thread of Xavier’s control snapped.

Instantly, his hand abandoned hers and shot up to grab the back of her neck. His large fingers tangled roughly into her hair, gripping her tightly. He tilted her head sharply to the side, completely exposing her pale throat, and leaned forward, closing the distance between them.

He buried his face directly into the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent deeply. His breath was scalding hot against her bare skin.

His open mouth trailed agonizingly up the side of her neck, leaving a burning, wet path in his wake. Hazel gasped loudly, her hands instantly flying up to tangle in his dark hair. A sharp, violent spike of pure pleasure shot straight down her spine, pooling heavily between her thighs.

When his lips reached the highly sensitive spot right beneath her jaw, he opened his mouth and bit down firmly on her skin, scraping his teeth against her racing pulse.

Hazel moaned loudly, an involuntary, breathy sound ripping from her throat. Her body arched completely into his hold, shamelessly demanding more of the heavy, intoxicating friction. She rocked against him again, her mind entirely taken over by the desperate, burning need for him.

Xavier’s hot breath fanned against her wet skin as he slowly released the bite. He dragged his lips upward, hovering them barely a millimeter from her ear.

"You have no idea what you're doing," Xavier whispered darkly into the silence of the room, the deep, rough rasp of his voice sending a violent shiver down her entire body. His large hand slid down her back, gripping her bare waist with crushing, possessive force. "But tonight... I am going to ruin you for everyone else."