Chapter 4: The Reveal

I slipped out of his hold, careful not to make a sound. My dress hung on the back of the chair, rumpled and impossibly wrinkled from the wild events of the night. I winced as I slid the fabric back over my bare skin. Every slide of the silk brushed against the places he’d kissed, touched, and completely claimed.

The library was quiet now, sunlight cutting through the high windows in thin beams. I glanced back at him, sprawled on the leather couch, still asleep. His crisp white shirt was discarded on the floor, and the blanket I’d haphazardly thrown over him barely covered his broad, sculpted chest.

God, what had I done?

My stomach twisted with shame. Did I just sleep with a stranger? I should regret last night. I should feel guilty. I should feel dirty.

But the truth? I didn’t.

I slipped my shoes on and crept toward the door, biting back the ridiculous urge to wake him, to say something, to touch his sharp jawline, to say something—anything—before I left. But I forced myself to turn away. This wasn’t supposed to be a romance. It was a beautiful, reckless mistake.

A mistake I’d make again in a heartbeat.

I shook the thought away, pushing it deep down where it couldn’t haunt me, and slipped out of the library.

The text came through as I was stepping off the bus, my legs still sore.

Mum: Come to the office right now. I need to discuss something incredibly important.

I sighed, shoving my phone back into my bag. Important with her usually meant some new project.

Three hours later, I pushed open the door to her tiny university research office.

“Hi, Mum,” I said, forcing a warm smile onto my face.

She looked up from her cluttered desk, her tired face instantly lighting up. “Elle! Perfect timing. Sit down, please.”

I sat across from her. The cramped space barely fit the two of us, with the heavy wooden desk taking up most of the room. She was practically glowing with an energy I hadn't seen in years, which only made my anxiety spike.

“I didn’t want to say a single word until the paperwork was finalized, but we did it. We secured the massive funding for the medical research project,” she said, her voice shaking with pure excitement. “Adrian Blackwell himself is personally backing it. Do you know what this means, Elle?”

“No,” I said slowly.

“It means,” she continued, her eyes welling with emotional tears, “we can finally pay off the rest of the heavy medical debt.”

The life-threatening illness I’d fought, and the brutal, heavy medications I’d taken to survive, had left deep scars. They hadn't just altered my metabolism and changed my body; they had completely decimated my family’s finances. Mum had taken out catastrophic loans to afford the treatments that saved my life. I had spent the last several years working grueling double shifts as a waitress, sacrificing my own college degree just to help her chip away at the crushing debt.

But now?

Mom’s smile widened. “And, Elle... you will finally be able to go back to school full-time. You can finally get your degree. Can you believe it?”

I was completely stunned. Relief warred with utter disbelief, my pulse hammering wildly in my chest.

“It’s… incredible, Mum,” I managed to choke out, my throat completely dry.

The office door opened suddenly, without a knock.

“Mrs. Lynn Carter?”

I froze.

That voice.

It was an incredibly low, smooth, unhurried baritone. A voice that had whispered wicked, depraved things into my ear just hours ago in a locked library.

Mom’s face lit up. “Mr. Blackwell! You’re early.” She immediately stood up, gesturing for him to come into the small room.

He was dressed in a flawlessly tailored gray three-piece suit that hugged his broad shoulders

like a second skin. His piercing blue eyes swept the small office until they landed directly on me.

For a split second, a flash of raw surprise and dark recognition flickered in the depths of his gaze. But it vanished before my mother could notice.

“Mr Blackwell,” Mum said proudly, gesturing between the two of us. “This is my daughter, Elle. She’s been helping me manage the project data.”

Elle. My name rolled off her tongue, landing between Adrian and me like a live wire. Adrian’s polite, corporate smile didn’t falter, but his eyes darkened, pinning me to my chair.

My throat closed up. The intoxicating memories of the night slammed into me.

I swallowed hard, my fingers tightly gripping the edge of my chair to keep myself from bolting out the window.

“It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you, Elle,” Adrian said smoothly, extending a large, warm hand toward me.

I stood up on trembling legs and shook it, acting as if we hadn’t been completely tangled together in a state of naked sin hours ago. The moment my palm met his, a fierce, electric jolt of current shot straight up my arm, settling directly between my thighs. My core throbbed instantly. I forced my face to remain completely neutral, though my heart was screaming.

“You too, Mr. Blackwell.” My voice was steady, but inside I was screaming. I was spinning out of control. He was so perfectly composed and it only made me more flushed.

Mum beamed, oblivious. “I’ll leave you two to get acquainted for a moment while I grab the research notes from the archives down the hall. Mr. Blackwell, the junior courier from your office was supposed to bring the final contract an hour ago, but he's running late.”

“Don’t worry about the courier, Mrs. Carter. Go get your notes. We have all the time in the world.”

The door closed behind her, leaving us alone.

I stood abruptly, my chair scraping loudly against the floor. “I didn’t expect this,” I said, forcing the breathless words out of my throat.

“Neither did I,” Adrian murmured.

He didn't move like an investor. He moved like a predator, slowly loosening the top button of his vest as he closed the small distance between us.

“You’re funding my mother's project?” I asked, backing up slightly.

“It’s a good cause,” he said, his voice dropping into that deep register that made my knees weak. “I try to put my money where it matters.” He paused, his lips curving into a slow, intensely sly grin that made my blood run hot. “Though I had no idea we’d be working so closely together, Elle.”

My cheeks burned with a fierce blush, but I tried to keep my guard up. “It’s a very small world, Mr. Blackwell.”

“Apparently.” His gaze traveled slowly down the front of my wrinkled dress, lingering on my chest where my breath was hitching, before snapping back to my eyes.

I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, trying to ignore the deep throb gathering in my lap.

“Well thank you for helping my mom. This project means a lot to her.”

“And to you?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“Does it mean a lot to you?” His voice was low, steady.

I looked away, my pulse hammering in my ears. “Of course.

“So, Elle... you disappeared on me this morning.”

I crossed my arms, trying to ignore the heat creeping up my neck. “I had somewhere to be.”

His lips twitched with dark amusement. He took another step forward, completely invading my space, trapping me between his massive frame and the edge of my mother's desk. “No note? Not even a proper goodbye after the way you cried out for me?”

I glared up at him, my defense mechanism flaring. “What would I have even said?”

“Whatever you wanted.” He leaned in, his intoxicating scent wrapping around my senses. “Something tells me you don't regret it.”

I opened my mouth to argue, to lie to his face, but the raw, intense hunger in his blue eyes completely paralyzed me. His gaze dipped down to my lips, heavy and full of intent, before snapping back up. A violent shiver traveled straight down my spine.

“This is… highly inappropriate,” I whispered weakly, my back completely hitting the edge of the desk.

“Extremely,” he growled in agreement.

Adrian didn't wait. He closed the remaining inch of distance, his large hands slamming onto the desk on either side of my hips, trapping me entirely.

I pressed my hands against his chest, intending to push him back, but the hard muscle beneath my palms made my breath hitch. “We shouldn’t—”

He leaned down and silenced my protests with a bruising, dominant kiss.

It was softer than last night, but no less consuming. His hands slid around my waist, pulling me closer as his mouth moved against mine. I melted into him, my resolve slipping with every second.

“We shouldn’t,” I whispered against his lips, but my hands betrayed me, sliding up to his neck, threading through his hair.

“Tell me to stop, then,” he murmured against my lips, his breath hitched.

His large, warm hand slid beneath the hem of my shirt, his rough palm scoring a line of fire across my bare skin as his thumb brushed against my ribs. I let out a soft cry into his mouth, my legs parting instinctively to let him step closer between my thighs.

I couldn't tell him to stop. I didn't want him to stop.

His fingers expertly found the lace edge of my bra, sliding beneath the fabric until he cupped my bare breast fully in his palm. His thumb aggressively stroked over my aching, hard nipple, igniting a wild firework of sparks across my skin.

“Ah… Adrian…” I gasped heavily into his mouth.

He swallowed the breathless sound, his solid lower body pressing me harder against the wooden desk, grinding his thick erection directly against my aching center through our layers of clothing. The friction was pure torture. I clutched at his broad shoulders, my head tilting back as his mouth abandoned my lips to bite and suck at the sensitive skin of my throat.

Suddenly, the office door was violently kicked open, slamming against the wall so hard the glass panes rattled in their frames.

“Listen, Lynn, I brought the charity papers for your little pathetic—”

The arrogant, mocking words died a violent death in the speaker's throat.

“What the fuck is going on in here?”

Adrian froze instantly, his large hand still firmly gripping my bare breast under my shirt. My heart stopped dead in my chest.

Standing in the frame, holding a gold-embossed corporate delivery slip, was Damien.

The color had completely drained from his face, leaving him a sickly, pale white. His chest rose and fell in shallow gasps as his eyes darted frantically between Adrian's hand under my clothes, and my flushed, swollen lips.

Damien choked on his own breath, his voice trembling as he looked at the man pinning me to the desk.

“Dad?”