Barcelona – Aria Palacio Hotel, Terrace
Lila's heels clicked softly against the polished marble floor as she made her way toward the balcony, the cool night air beckoning. The bustling sound of the dinner party faded behind her, replaced by the gentle rustling of palm fronds and the distant hum of the city.
She could feel Rowan's gaze trailing her, even before she turned the corner. His eyes had been on her all evening. She didn't need to look back to know that. But still, she couldn't resist—she glanced over her shoulder just briefly. He was still sitting at the table, but she could almost feel his tension, like a physical weight in the air. The thought of his mind racing made her smile.
Lila knew this game. She knew how to stir the pot, how to make men like Rowan Vale want something they couldn't have. But it wasn't just that—it was about power. Control. She wasn't just teasing him. She was drawing him in, bit by bit.
When she reached the terrace, she stopped and took a deep breath, savoring the moment. The city stretched before her, a sprawling canvas of lights and movement. It was so easy to lose herself in the vastness of it, to feel both powerful and small at the same time.
And then, just as she was about to step closer to the railing, she heard footsteps. She didn't need to look—she knew who it was.
Rowan.
He didn't speak at first, but she felt the space between them pulse with tension. It was thick, like the air right before a storm. She let the silence hang there, knowing he'd be the one to break it.
He didn't disappoint.
"Why walk away?" His voice was low, controlled—so much so that it made her skin prickle with excitement.
Lila didn't turn to face him. Instead, she leaned against the stone railing, keeping her posture elegant, but her eyes remained fixed on the city lights below.
"Just needed a moment," she said, her voice smooth, unbothered. "You know, to breathe."
She could almost feel his gaze burning into the back of her neck, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of turning to meet it. Not yet.
A beat passed. Then, he was closer. She didn't hear his footsteps, but she felt the space between them close like a whisper, like the calm before the storm.
"You're good at this," he said, his words quiet but laden with something deeper, something she could almost taste.
Lila smiled, a slow, deliberate curve of her lips. "I'm not trying to be good, Mr. Vale." She let the words hang in the air. "I just know how to play the game."
The air between them shifted, growing warmer with every moment.
Rowan's breath hitched. "What game is that?"
She could hear the tension in his voice now—the crack beneath the surface. But Lila was no longer just the spectator. She had her part to play, and she was savoring every second of it.
"A game of chess, of course." Her eyes met his now, though she kept her expression unreadable. "One move at a time. Every piece matters."
She watched his jaw tighten at her words. She could practically feel his mind racing, trying to understand her, trying to figure out what her next move would be. But that was the beauty of it—he would never know. Not until it was too late.
She straightened, eyes still locked on his, and took a slow step back. She wasn't finished. Not by a long shot.
"I'm sure you have plenty of moves left to make," she said, letting the words slide off her tongue like silk. "But, for now…" She let her gaze flicker down to the floor, a subtle shift in her posture.
Lila wasn't afraid of Rowan. She knew what she was doing—and she was going to make him work for it.
She glanced back up at him one last time, giving him a small, flirtatious smile that held just the right amount of mystery.
And then, with that, she turned on her heel, her steps light and purposeful as she made her way back toward the ballroom.
She didn't look back. Not once. She didn't need to.
Because this game was hers. And she was about to checkmate him.
---
Rowan stood still, watching Lila's retreating figure as she walked away from him, the distant clink of glasses from the ballroom barely audible over the pounding in his chest. His thoughts were chaotic, tangled in a web of lust, frustration, and the strange, undeniable pull she had on him.
Her departure had been deliberate. He could feel it—the slight tilt of her chin, the grace of her steps, every move calculated. She wasn't just walking away; she was playing him.
But why?
Rowan's mind raced as he turned away from the terrace, his breath coming out in shallow bursts. His body was still heated, a restless fire igniting within him that had nothing to do with the warm night air. His pulse quickened. He knew exactly what she was doing—she was testing him. Challenging him in ways that left him on edge.
Lila Penrose wasn't just any woman. She was a force of nature. Her presence, her elegance, and that goddamn perfume that seemed to follow her like a shadow—it all made him lose control. She had him questioning everything he thought he knew about himself, and he hated that. But worse than that… he didn't know how to make it stop.
"God, what the hell is wrong with me?" Rowan muttered to himself, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as if he could physically shake off the tension she left in her wake.
He could still feel the heat of her presence, as if her body was imprinted on his mind, and the memory of her smile—the teasing, confident smile that was so deliberate—burned into his thoughts. Every word she had spoken was like a challenge. Every glance, a command.
Chess.
The word echoed in his mind. She had said it so casually, as if this was all just a game for her. But for him? It was no game. It was maddening.
"Rowan."
The sound of his name being spoken snapped him out of his reverie. He turned, his face going cold as he saw Nico standing a few feet away, a drink in hand and a knowing smirk on his lips.
"Did you want to go back to the party, or are you just going to stand here and sulk?" Nico's voice was low, teasing. His eyes flicked over to the door where Lila had just disappeared, his smirk deepening.
Rowan exhaled sharply, not wanting to engage. But the words slipped out anyway. "She's playing a game." His voice was tight, filled with frustration. "I don't know what her game is, but I'm not losing."
Nico's laugh was low and knowing. "Oh, trust me, my friend. You've already lost. You just don't know it yet."
Rowan shot him a sharp look, his jaw tightening. "I don't need your commentary."
"Oh, but you do," Nico teased, taking a sip of his drink. "You really do."
Rowan clenched his fists at his sides. The last thing he needed was Nico's unsolicited advice, but he could see the amusement in his eyes, and it only drove him further into the spiral of frustration. He'd never been so undone by a woman, and it pissed him off. He was supposed to be in control—of everything, especially of her.
But here he was, a slave to the game she was playing, and he didn't know the rules.
"I don't know what she wants," Rowan admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He hated saying it aloud, but it was the truth. He couldn't understand her.
Nico chuckled, leaning back against the wall with a grin. "You'll figure it out. But I gotta say, man, you're already too far gone."
Rowan's eyes narrowed at him, but Nico just shrugged, unfazed. "It's all part of the fun."
Rowan didn't respond. Instead, he took a deep breath, his mind flicking back to Lila—her scent still lingering in the air, her smile, the way she held herself, the power she exuded with every step. It made him want to grab her, pull her into him, and tear down the walls she had built. But that wasn't who he was. He wasn't a man who took what wasn't freely given.
Yet… she hadn't given him anything. And that, more than anything else, drove him mad.
"I'm going back," Rowan muttered, his gaze still fixed on the door she had walked through. He didn't need to explain himself to Nico, not now. But damn it, he needed to figure this out. He needed to regain control.
"Good luck, man," Nico called after him with a grin, before adding, almost as an afterthought, "You'll need it."
Rowan didn't respond. He didn't have time for Nico's games. His own were enough.
With one final glance at the door, he walked away, every muscle in his body coiled with tension. He wasn't going to let her win—not yet. But somehow, deep down, he knew it was already too late.
---
Barcelona – Aria Palacio Hotel, Inside the Ballroom
Lila's footsteps were deliberate as she re-entered the ballroom, the pulse of the music syncing with the rhythm of her heart. The warm lights of the grand chandelier above her bathed the room in a soft, almost ethereal glow, and she allowed herself a moment to breathe it all in. The opulence of the space—the marble floors, the glittering crystal glasses, the laughter that floated through the air—it all felt like a world that belonged to her. Or at least, that she could make hers.
But it wasn't the setting or the wealth that held her attention now. No, it was the game she had set into motion—one that involved only one player in mind.
Rowan.
She could still feel the remnants of his presence on her skin, his eyes burning into her as she left. It was as though she'd left a part of herself behind, but Lila didn't mind. She knew exactly what she was doing. This was her power—leaving people hungry for what they couldn't have, pulling them in closer with every move.
Piper appeared beside her, slipping her arm around Lila's as they approached the long bar where guests were still mingling, cocktails in hand. Her friend's gaze was sharp, more than accustomed to Lila's tactics, and she knew the game was only beginning.
"That went well," Piper commented, her voice low enough that only Lila could hear. "Rowan was staring at you. You have him tangled, don't you?"
Lila smiled faintly, taking a delicate sip of her drink. The sparkling champagne danced on her tongue, cooling the simmering fire that had been ignited within her earlier. "I've got him exactly where I want him," she replied quietly, her voice cool and composed.
Piper raised an eyebrow, watching Lila with a knowing look. "Is that so? Or are you just playing with fire?"
Lila's lips curled into a sly grin. "Fire's fun to play with."
Her gaze shifted back to the crowd, searching for him. She found him quickly, standing at the far end of the room, speaking to someone else. But even from a distance, Lila could feel the heat of his presence, like an invisible force pulling her in.
And then, without even trying, their eyes met. Rowan's gaze locked on hers, and for the briefest moment, time seemed to slow. He was standing with his back straight, his jaw clenched, and that damned look in his eyes—the one that burned with desire but was carefully masked by that veneer of control.
Lila didn't flinch. She didn't look away. Instead, she raised her glass, offering him a teasing smile before turning her attention back to Piper.
"It's all a game, Piper," Lila murmured. "And I'm just getting started."
---
Rowan's stare hadn't wavered for a second. The distance between them felt like an ocean, but he couldn't break the connection, no matter how hard he tried. Every muscle in his body tensed as she looked at him with that mix of challenge and allure. It was like she was daring him to make the first move—but he couldn't. Not here. Not now.
His chest tightened with a quiet frustration. She wasn't making it easy, and that made her all the more enticing. There was something about the way she played with him, toying with him in front of others, as if she was the only one who understood the rules. And in a way, maybe she was.
But he wasn't one to lose. He wouldn't let himself. Not to her.
Rowan's grip on his drink tightened as he watched her, the fire inside him igniting again. The attraction was undeniable, the pull magnetic. He could feel his pulse in his veins, his mind racing, but he knew he had to keep his distance. It wasn't just about the game anymore. It was about control. His control.
As the evening continued, Rowan's attention kept flicking to Lila. Every movement she made seemed to draw his gaze, but he didn't allow himself to fall into the trap. Not yet. He had to remain steady, to focus on the business at hand.
But damn it, it was hard.
The sounds of the ballroom felt distant as he tried to center himself, his thoughts interrupted only by fleeting moments of her presence. The way she'd entered with such grace, the way she carried herself like she was meant to own the room. And then there was the smile—the smile that could unravel him with just a flicker of warmth or a flick of her lips.
Rowan closed his eyes for a brief moment, the tension in his body palpable. This wasn't just about business anymore. This was something else, something he didn't know how to navigate. But one thing was clear—he needed to make her his, and he'd do whatever it took to make that happen.
He just had to keep his cool.
Lila was a game. A beautiful, dangerous game. But if anyone knew how to win, it was him.
---