Chapter 3: Intrigue

“Well… there’s not much to know about me. I’m a nobody.”

“Shhhh!” Nat hissed, leaning closer. “I know there’s more to you than what you show at the club… especially at the pool.”

“Point or correction—I’m not a stripper,” she said quickly. “I work at the club. Sometimes, I… let people pay me to make ends meet.”

He raised an eyebrow. “But you sell fantasy, don’t you?”

“I give people an experience. “You enjoy my company too… so what does that make us?”

Nat nodded slowly, leaning back just enough to let her speak. “I see. Go on. Feel free. There’s nothing to be scared of. Tell me the real you.”

She took a deep breath, then exhaled. And just like that, she let it all pour out.

“I’m Zara Carter. Twenty-six. I grew up in West Philadelphia. My dad died when I was five. My mom passed a few years later. I had to drop out of school to care for my siblings. Life got tough… so I did what I had to do.”

Zara’s voice was steady, almost mechanical, as if keeping the emotions at bay.

“I’m sorry,” Nat said quietly,. “But… being a stripper? Didn’t you have a choice?”

“Easy to say,” she shrugged, “but life doesn’t always go as planned. I got into stripping because I had no choice. Then… I got caught with cocaine in my bag—paid to traffic it to California. I was locked up with my friend, Lativa… she’s gone now. A man who works with the police and owns the club rescued me. He cleaned everything up, used his contacts, bailed me out… and I was free. But freedom came with a price. I had to work for him. Pay him back every penny I owed. If I ever leave the club… it’s either he kills me or I go back to jail.”

His mouth fell open. His eyes widened, the weight of her story pressing down on him.

“Woah…” he breathed. “That’s… a lot. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

She shrugged, her gaze was distant but firm. “I’m past the pity stage.”

“And your boss?”

“Antonio. Dangerous. The kind of man you don’t cross. I owe him. In his world, debts aren’t forgiven.”

Nat’s jaw tightened. “No one should own your life.”

She studied him carefully. “And you?” she asked. “Besides being the stranger who summoned me here…”

Her eyes swept around the private lounge.

Nat laughed.

A deep, rough sound.

But the laughter quickly faded, replaced by a tight grin.

“You don’t wanna know.”

His eyes flashed suddenly—wild and untamed like a caged animal that had just caught the scent of blood. He lifted his glass and poured the whiskey down his throat in one long gulp.

Zara watched him.

He looked hungry.

Hungry for her.

Hungry for something else entirely.

His gaze slid slowly down her dress, and she felt it like a cold touch against her skin—dangerous and strangely appealing. The tension between them thickened, hanging heavy in the air like the cigar smoke curling lazily around the room.

Nat began removing his suit jacket slowly, deliberately watching her reaction.

His tattoos stretched across his hands and up his chest when he loosened his shirt.

Zara told herself she wasn’t impressed.

He leaned closer.

She instinctively pushed forward, brushing her hair behind her ear.

Her heart thundered in her chest. Her legs felt weak, and her breathing grew heavier with every second he remained that close.

Nat looked at her and muttered softly,

“So pretty… and innocent.”

Zara couldn’t help the blush that crept across her cheeks.

Then he kissed her.

At first, it was slow.

Careful.

Their lips brushed together, testing the moment.

Then it was more passionate. She could taste the whiskey lingering on his tongue.

His hands slid behind her back, unclasping her bra as his lips traveled down to her neck. Slowly, he pushed the cups aside, freeing her breasts. He cupped one gently and lowered his mouth to it, sucking softly.

Zara felt like she was drifting far away, like an ocean had opened inside her.

A soft moan escaped her lips.

His fingers slid between her thighs.

He felt her there—warm, moist, and slippery beneath his touch.

Zara’s breath caught in her throat.

She knew exactly how to make a man lose control.

Nat’s composure cracked for the first that night.

“You’re dangerous,” he muttered, pulling back to ease a bit.

She smiled against him.

He leaned closer, brushing his fingers lightly across her mouth.

“That’s all you get,” she said, gently pushing his hand away.

He smirked.

In one swift motion, he lifted her onto the table. This time, she didn’t resist. She spread her legs.

Nat pulled out a condom, rolling it on quickly. The fact that he had one ready in his pants was a question she couldn’t ask—not for the heated moment.

What followed wasn’t rushed.

It wasn’t transactional.

It was explosive.

He slid into her, jerking and gasping as she wrapped her hands around his back, her body trembling with every movement. Her mouth hung open in exhaustion, her breath heavy, as if she were too stunned to think.

It was quick, their bodies tangled in warmth and heat. Afterwards, they lay naked together on the couch, spent and entwined.

Zara rested against him, tracing lazy circles across his chest with her fingertips.

She had let her guard down. After promising herself she wouldn’t do anything that night, she had ended up sleeping with the billionaire.

Nat reached into his suit jacket and pulled out again a thick stack of cash, letting it spill loosely into his hand.

She stared at the money, lost.

But it wasn’t the cash that left her frozen.

It was him.

The way he had taken control. The way he had made her feel seen. Wanted. Overpowered.

Nat Wolfe had shaken something deep inside her.

Lifted her somewhere reckless. Somewhere wild.

And yet… she told herself it was just a fling.

Still, a quiet question lingered in her mind:

Was it really just that? Or something more?