Nina Clarkson stood near the edge of the room,a phone to her ear as she spoke quickly.
"I've been waiting for the order to come in, champagne and wine." She huffed,watching the night unfold. Dressed in a sleek emerald-green gown that complimented her curves, she should have felt accomplished,after all, this gala was her doing. Every detail, from the floral arrangements to the five-star menu, had been meticulously planned under her guidance. Yet, instead of basking in the event's success, she felt strangely out of place.
"The drinks has arrived," a dark skinned waiter came to whisper in her ear as she smiled.
"I'm sure y'all can take care of that. I'll just be here." She said to him and watched him leave.
She wasn't one of these people,born into wealth, dripping with privilege. She had clawed her way into this world with nothing but grit and hard work. And though she had built a name for herself as an elite event planner, she knew she was still just an outsider looking in.
She sighed, reaching for a glass of champagne from a passing waiter when the murmurs in the room suddenly shifted. A low hum of excitement rippled through the crowd.
Jeffrey Michaelson had arrived.
Nina glanced toward the grand entrance.
There he was,the elusive billionaire, the man whispered about in exclusive circles. Tall, powerful, with an air of command that made the room feel smaller in his presence. His sharp navy suit fit him like a second skin, exuding effortless wealth and dominance.
He wasn't just a businessman; he was a king among men. Ruthless in the boardroom, dangerously charming outside of it. And unlike the rest of the socialites here, he didn't need to network,people came to him, eager to be in his good graces.
Nina had heard plenty about him. Cold. Calculating. Impossible to ignore.
Yet when his eyes locked onto hers, something flickered in his gaze,an unexpected spark of curiosity.
Nina's pulse spiked. He was looking at her. Not past her, not through her. At her.
She quickly turned away, annoyed by the sudden heat creeping up her spine.
No. Absolutely not.
She wasn't one of those women who melted under the gaze of a powerful man.
But as the night unfolded, fate,or something far more dangerous,kept pulling them closer.
Their first conversation happened near the bar, where Nina had retreated for a moment of peace.
"You don't look like you're enjoying your own event," a smooth, deep voice teased beside her.
Nina turned, instantly finding herself face to face with Jeffrey Michaelson.
Up close, he was even more striking. Dark eyes filled with intensity, lips curled into a knowing smirk, as if he had already figured out her secrets.
She recovered quickly, lifting her chin. "I enjoy it just fine. But I'm working, Mr. Michaelson. Not everyone here has the luxury of simply… showing up,and pulling such attention to themselves."
His smirk deepened. "Fair enough, but do I smell spite?" He asked and she chuckled.
"Trust me, I'd rather be jealous of a bigger butt than mine." She retorted. He nodded
"Though I get the feeling you'd rather be anywhere else."
Nina arched a brow. "And what gave you that idea?"
"The way you keep looking at the exit."
Damn. He was observant.
"Maybe I just like to be prepared," she said lightly.
"Or maybe," Jeffrey leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to something dangerously smooth, "you're tired of being the one who makes things happen instead of the one who enjoys them." he whispered.
Nina's breath hitched. There was an unspoken challenge in his gaze, daring her to admit that, for once, she wanted to let go.
And that was the dangerous thing.
Because tonight, with the champagne fizzing in her veins and the stress of perfection finally slipping from her shoulders, she wasn't sure if she had the strength to resist.
One drink turned into two. Conversations stretched into laughter. Their casual flirtation deepened into something heavier, something charged.
And by the time they slipped into the sleek black car waiting outside, Nina knew she had made a reckless decision.
But for once in her life, she didn't want to think.
She wanted to feel.
Jeffrey's penthouse was everything she expected,luxurious, masculine, and breathtaking. Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed the glittering city below, but Nina barely noticed.
Because the moment the door clicked shut, everything else faded.
Jeffrey wasn't gentle. He wasn't the kind of man who asked permission with hesitant touches. He took what he wanted, and God help her,she wanted him just as badly.
His lips crashed against hers, a perfect mix of dominance and desperation. The kind that made her forget she was just a girl from nowhere and he was a man who owned the world.
Her dress pooled at her feet. His suit jacket landed somewhere on the floor.
By the time they reached his bedroom, all that remained was fire.
And for one night, Nina let herself burn.
__
The first thing Nina felt when she woke up was warmth.
A strong arm draped over her waist. The steady rise and fall of a chest against her back. The lingering scent of expensive cologne mixed with something undeniably male.
For a fleeting moment, she wanted to stay.
But then reality crashed in.
What had she done?
Her pulse pounded as she carefully untangled herself from Jeffrey's embrace. She moved quietly, gathering her clothes, holding her breath as he stirred but didn't wake.
She needed to leave. Now.
No good could come from this.
She had no place in his world, and she wasn't about to be another name on his long list of conquests.
Silently, she slipped out of his penthouse, stepping into the cold morning air with nothing but regret and the haunting memory of his touch.
She told herself she would forget him.
That he would forget her.