CHAPTER THREE: What happened last night?

“Are you serious right now?”

Mia turned, tilting her head to meet his deep-set, smoky grey eyes. His focus was still on her as if he still had unfinished business with her.

Zac exhaled deeply, running his fingers through his sleek black hair. The remaining strands settled back into position smoothly.

“Look… I’m sorry if that came off kind of weird. But I can’t help the way I feel about you.”

“Oh, please,” Mia scoffed, crossing her arms. “Don’t start. You men all want the same thing.”

“No... it's not the way you think, I assure you. My intentions are pure," he stated, his tone gentle. “I want you, Tiffany. Not just for now—but by my side, outside these walls.”

Her thoughts whirled, trying to comprehend his words. How did she find herself here, caught in a situation she never saw coming? Zac was supposed to be a distraction for her, nothing more.

“I know this sounds crazy, but back there when our eyes met… you felt it too, right?” His voice dropped as he reached for her hand.

Mia wanted to pull away—to shut this down completely. But he was right, she couldn’t deny the pull between them. And that frightened her more than anything else.

“You don’t even know me.” She chuckled nervously, attempting to lighten the seriousness of the situation.

“It takes only a day to meet someone, but just a moment to fall in love,” he reassured her as he carefully intertwined his fingers in hers. “You can take all the time you want, Tiffany. I’ll be here, waiting.”

His honesty was almost overwhelming. She didn’t intend to be here; she ought to have realized it was unwise to lose focus. But the thought of sharing a bed with a man like Lorenzo felt wrong and disgusting.

“What if you’re involved in some scandal?” she probed, observing for any crack in his composure.

“Not at all. By the way, I’m Zac.” He smiled confidently, extending a hand.

“Nice to meet you,” she said, shaking his hand regardless, but her mind was still on edge. “I’ll consider your proposal, but I need to go now.”

“Wait!” Zac pointed toward the window. “It’s raining outside. It’s not safe to go out in this weather. How about you spend the night here?"

Her pulse skipped a beat. She hadn’t realized how late it was. Outside, rain flowed against the glass, causing the city to fade behind the transparent silver lines. She knew there was no chance of returning to the club.

She ought to go; however, the thought of returning to the cold, into the chaos of her reality, suddenly felt unbearable.

A break from everything might give her the clarity she desperately needed.

“Fine.” The word escaped her lips before she had a chance to reconsider.

****

The rain drummed softly against the windows while the shots of whiskey warmed her throat. Across from her, Zac leaned back in his chair, observing her with a calm aura.

At first, their words were light—casual exchanges between two people stranded by circumstance. But as the drinks flowed, their stories grew more intimate.

Zac addressed her in a manner that captured her attention; his tone was low and soothing. He didn’t just hear—he listened.

Mia wasn’t used to this. The men in her world were predictable: grand gestures, empty promises, ulterior motives wrapped in charm. But Zac was different. His confidence wasn’t loud; it was steady. He didn’t press, didn’t demand.

And for the first time in years, she felt safe.

Somewhere between laughter and whiskey, exhaustion pulled at her. She barely remembered closing her eyes.

***

Blinking awake, Mia discovered she was no longer on the couch. She was lying in bed.

She looked over at the couch, where he slept, his long legs awkwardly dangling off the edge, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, revealing his chest to the cool air of the room.

He looked so uncomfortable that his brows knitted even in his sleep, yet there was something appealing about him.

A wave of guilt hit her. He had given up the bed for her, enduring discomfort so she could relax.

Careful not to wake him, she reached for the duvet and tiptoed toward him. She only meant to cover him and leave. That was all.

But as she stepped closer, her eyes lingered. She couldn’t help but notice how well-sculpted his body looked. Her fingers twitched, compellingly attracted to the soft rise and fall of his chest. But she caught herself, catching her breath.

What was she doing?

She turned to walk away, but just before she could move, a hand grabbed her wrist.

“Why are you still up?” Zac's voice was heavy with sleep, low and husky.

“I… uh…” Mia stammered, her mind scrambling for an excuse.

Before she could step back, he pulled her softly, causing her to lose her balance and fall onto his chest.

Their eyes locked and it suddenly felt like the world was narrowing to just them. His fingertips grazed the tiny area of her back, a barely-there touch that ignited sensations across her skin.

“Tiffany…” he whispered, gently moving a loose piece of hair away from her mouth.

“I don’t know how you did it, but… you have my heart.”

His skin was warm, his heartbeat steady under her palms. She could feel her body relax into him. The faint scent of wine and cologne clung to her as she sighed.

“Funny… I was just thinking the same thing about you.” Her words came out slurred.

She shifted slightly, nuzzling closer, her fingers brushing his face with a featherlight touch. “I think… I love you already.”

Zac’s heart stopped. Before he could react, she let out a soft, sleepy laugh.

“Mmm… that sounds dramatic, huh?” Her words slurred together, her grip on reality slipping. “But I mean it.”

But before another word could be spoken, the haze of sleep overtook her, pulling her into unconsciousness, leaving Zac wide awake.

***************

When Mia woke, she was back on the bed. The space beside was colder.

Panic surged as last night’s memories crashed over here. But when she checked beneath the sheets, relief settled over her.

Nothing had happened. Yet… beneath the relief, something else lingered—disappointment.

Zac was gone.

Just as she turned, her eyes landed on the bedside table. A bouquet of flowers rested next to a shiny vase, with a note placed beside it.

“Didn’t want to disturb you. Call me when you’re up. Dinner at 6?”

At the bottom was his phone number, scrawled in a confident hand.

Mia smiled as warmth spread through her chest. Maybe last night wasn’t a mistake after all.

But as she left the hotel and made her way back, reality crashed down on her. For the first time in four years, she had failed her task.

Yet despite everything, all she could think about was seeing him again.

***************

“I want you by my side.”

Zac's words echoed in Mia's mind as she stared at her reflection.

Just then, Samantha stormed into the room, radiating in her usual whirlwind of energy.

“Goodness, Mia, I swear you attract more drama than a soap opera.”

“What else could I have told Xiang? Lorenzo didn’t show up,” Mia admitted, her voice quieter than she’d intended.

“But… I think Zac’s worth a shot.”

“Worth it?” Samantha’s eyes widened. “You’re about to go on a date with a guy whose last name you can’t even recall!”

Just before Mia could reply, her phone vibrated loudly, interrupting their discussion.

The screen lit up, followed by Xiang’s message: We’re on our way. Be packed and ready to move. No excuses, no delays.

In a split second, the room seemed to shrink. The light laughter from moments ago dissolved into heavy silence.

Mia swallowed hard.

The weight of reality crashed down on her, erasing the sweetness of whiskey with Zac—the fleeting lightness of imagining something more.

She wasn’t Tiffany—the free-spirited girl exploring new feelings.

She was Mia.

A woman bound to a duty she couldn’t abandon.