Alle Kapitel von One Night, Wrong Man: Kapitel 1 – Kapitel 10

*POV Derby* The bar door slammed shut behind me, sealing me inside a wall of heat, pounding music, and the lingering bite of whiskey still coating the back of my throat. Bass pulsed beneath my feet, vibrating through the floor until I could feel it somewhere behind my ribs.. The air smelled like sweat, cheap cologne, and liquor that had soaked into the wood years ago. Normally I would've hated this place. Tonight, I needed it. Anything loud enough to bury Rian's voice deserved my gratitude. I slipped onto the last empty stool at the end of the bar. "Whiskey. Neat." No ice. No questions. The first swallow burned all the way down, settling in my chest with a warmth that lasted only a few seconds. Still not enough. I pushed the empty glass forward. The bartender barely looked at me before pouring another. Then, not long after, another. Every swallow left behind the same smoky burn... and somehow the same empty feeling.. I wasn't chasing a buzz. I just wanted my thoughts to slow d

*POV Derby* The cool night air hit my face the moment we stepped outside, but it barely touched the mess inside my head. Everything still felt loud, even after leaving the bar behind. Neither of us suggested where to go next. We simply walked, side by side, letting the city carry us wherever the next block led. Conversation had slowed to almost nothing. The conversation faded on its own. Strangely, the silence wasn't uncomfortable. It just gave my thoughts more room to breathe, and somehow that made my chest feel even heavier. Halfway down the block, my feet refused to move anymore. I stopped so abruptly he took another step before noticing.. No dramatic sobbing. Just quiet tears that kept falling no matter how many times I blinked them away.. Five years. All of it gone in one night. Jordan didn't rush to hug me or tell me everything would be okay. He quietly reached into his coat pocket, unfolded the same handkerchief, and held it out without saying a word. Then he matched my

*POV Derby* The hotel room door clicked shut behind us with a quiet finality. Sound echoed far louder than it should have, making my pulse jump. The muffled sounds from the hallway disappeared, replaced by the steady hum of the air conditioner and the uneven rhythm of my breathing. I stayed near the door for a second, suddenly aware of how different everything felt now that we were alone. Jordan didn't move toward me right away. Instead, he walked over to the window and drew the curtains halfway, letting only a wash of city lights spill into the room.. When he turned back, his hands rested loosely at his sides. He watched me with the same calm expression he'd worn all night. He didn't close the distance between us. He simply waited, patient enough to let the silence speak first. If I changed my mind, I knew he'd open the door without asking a single question. I really could have left. Nothing was stopping me except myself. Part of me kept insisting this was a mistake, that o

*POV Derby* The longer I sat alone in my apartment, the harder it became to ignore my curiosity. By eight o'clock, I'd given up pretending I wasn't thinking about him. I settled onto my worn couch, balancing my laptop across my knees., The apartment stayed dark except for the pale glow spilling from the laptop screen. **Just look him up, I told myself. That's all." Five minutes, maybe less. I'd satisfy my curiosity, close the browser, and finally move on.. Besides, Jordan Vasquez couldn't possibly be that unique a name... could it? The search results barely finished loading before my stomach sank. The first link wasn't a personal profile. It was the official website for the Vasquez Group. And it wasn't some mid-sized company, either. It was the kind of business empire people read about in financial magazines. Real estate, tech investments, media holdings. Old money with deep roots in the business world. Headlines praised their latest acquisitions, their influence in boardroom

*POV Derby* Thursday arrived before I felt ready for it. No matter how many times I'd rehearsed this moment in my head, it still felt too soon. I got to the office almost half an hour earlier than usual, a paper cup of coffee warming my hands more than it warmed me. **The whole drive there, I'd repeated the same sentence until it almost sounded believable. It's just another meeting." I'd be professional. Calm. Nothing more than another analyst presenting another project. For days, I'd clung to the same hope. Maybe he wouldn't remember me at all. Even if he did remember, someone like Jordan had every reason to pretend he didn't. That thought should've comforted me. Somehow, it didn't. I'd chosen my most formal blouse and pencil skirt that morning, hoping confidence could be stitched into fabric. The conference room was already buzzing when I stepped inside. Projectors glowed against the wall while someone arranged bottled water along the table. I slipped into a chair near th