The coupe slipped from her hand.
The golden champagne spilled in a cascade, slowly, almost in slow motion, over Nari's chest.
The white fabric of her blouse instantly became transparent, clinging to her skin like a wet second skin, revealing the black lace of her bra, the heavy curve of her breasts, the tips of her nipples already hardening under the cold and the shame.
The drops slid, slow, between her breasts, ran down her stomach, soaked the waistband of her pants, leaving a shiny, obscene trail on her pale skin.
Nari turned scarlet.
A violent, burning red that rushed from her chest to her cheeks in a fraction of a second.
— I… I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll clean this up right away…
Her voice was trembling.
She grabbed a paper towel from the table, clumsy fingers, hands shaking even more, and began dabbing her own chest without daring to lift her eyes.
Kai was watching her.
Not like a friend.
Not like a boss.
Nor like a protector.
He was watching her… like a man losing all control.
His dark eyes slid slowly, far too slowly, over the fabric stuck to her skin, over the black lace that hid nothing anymore, over the drops still pearling between her breasts, over the ragged breathing that made her chest tremble.
He no longer blinked.
He barely breathed.
His pupils were dilated, black, hungry, and a violent, animal redness rose from his neck to his cheekbones, his throat tightened, his jaw clenched, a bead of sweat slid down his temple.
He stopped her arm with a sharp movement.
His hand closed around her wrist, burning, trembling, and he pulled gently, just enough for her to finally lift her eyes to him.
Then he leaned in.
Slowly.
A kiss.
Soft.
Feverish.
Loaded with a desire he had been holding back for far too long.
Nari grew even redder, if that was possible.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Everything blended in her head: shame, desire, guilt, the humid heat between her thighs already betraying her body, the taste of champagne on her skin, Kai's scent so close, so different from Sion's.
He continued.
Soft lips, tongue shy at first, then more assured, slowly descending along her neck, to the hollow of her collarbone, to the wet fabric, to the place where the champagne was still running.
He licked.
Slowly.
Far too slowly.
A long, warm, wet trail on her cold skin.
He was red.
Sweating.
His hand rested against the back of the couch, just behind her, imprisoning her body without touching it.
His face was red.
His forehead slightly damp.
His eyes…
black with desire.
At that moment, Kai no longer looked like the distant boss of the Black Orchid.
He looked like a man fighting against his own limits.
And losing.
Nari felt her body respond despite herself.
A treacherous warmth rising from her belly, hardening her nipples under the lace, soaking her already wet panties, making her thighs tremble.
She was panting.
Her fingers clenched in the air.
And then suddenly, reality struck her like a slap.
— No… no, Kai, stop… please…
Her voice was weak, broken, pleading, but she pushed him away, palms flat against his chest, tears already on the verge of spilling.
He stopped.
One centimeter from her face.
His eyes wild.
His lips swollen.
His burning breath against her mouth.
He was trembling everywhere.
A caged animal.
— Don't you want to take your revenge? he murmured, his voice hoarse, broken, pleading.
And in Nari's mind, everything exploded.
The image of Sion, last night, kissing another girl, his shirt open, his mouth on her throat, the brutal certainty that he had fucked her after, that he had taken her the way he took Nari, that he had whispered the same dirty words to her.
The sensation of betrayal filled her chest like poison.
And then Kai's voice, right against her ear, warm, desperate:
— Nari… I can't hold back anymore.
She cracked.
She grabbed his face with both hands.
Her trembling, burning fingers in his hair.
And she kissed him.
Not gently.
Not tenderly.
Languorously.
Violently.
Like taking revenge.
Like punishing herself.
Like drowning.
Her tongue forced its way into his mouth, searched for his, wrapped around it, devoured it, the taste of champagne still on his lips, the taste of betrayal, the taste of revenge, the taste of hatred and desire mixed.
And in that kiss,
she no longer knew who she was punishing.
Sion.
Or herself.
Kai responded as if his entire body had been taut, waiting, for weeks, for months.
A muffled moan vibrated against her mouth, his lips parted abruptly, his tongue came to seek hers with desperate, hungry urgency.
His hand slid into the hollow of her back, large, burning, pressed her against him until there was not a millimeter of air between them, until their hearts slammed against each other, two mad beats seeking and tearing at the same time.
He pulled back just enough to look at her.
His black eyes, dilated, shining with desire and something darker, more dangerous.
His trembling fingers found the first button of her soaked blouse.
He popped it open.
Slowly.
Far too slowly.
Each little click of a button coming undone echoed like a countdown in the silence of the office.
One button.
Two.
Three.
The fabric opened centimeter by centimeter, revealing the wet skin, the black lace, the goosebumps rising under the cold and under his gaze.
He never took his eyes off her.
Never.
He leaned in.
His tongue followed the champagne trail, slowly, so slowly that Nari felt every millimeter of warm moisture on her icy skin, every shiver exploding where he passed.
He descended between her breasts, tasting the salt of her skin, the sugar of the champagne, the sweat of her fear.
Then he parted the lace with a gentle, almost reverent gesture, and his mouth closed over her hardened nipple.
A slow, perfect, circular lick, then a soft, deep suction that tore a hoarse moan from Nari, a moan she already hated.
Her heart tightened.
So hard she thought it would shatter.
She wanted to scream.
She wanted to cry.
But her body, traitorous, arched against him, her fingers lost themselves in his black hair, pulled him closer.
Kai straightened just enough to remove his shirt.
Slowly.
Every movement calculated, sensual, unbearable.
His black hair fell in damp strands over his forehead, framed his black eyes that never left her, shining with pure desire, a hunger held back for weeks, finally released.
His torso appeared, muscular, tense, skin slightly tanned, veins prominent on his forearms, short breath making his abs tremble.
He was magnificent.
He knelt.
Slowly.
His hands slid over her hips, descended along her thighs, lifted her skirt with an almost cruel gentleness.
He spread her trembling legs.
His lips brushed the inside of her thigh, rose, higher, higher, until they reached the place where the fabric of her panties was already soaked, until he placed his mouth there, over the lace, a soft, warm kiss, then his tongue tracing a slow, precise line, pressing just enough for her to feel everything, to feel the heat of his mouth through the fabric, to feel that she was getting lost.
And then the tears came.
Not tears of pleasure.
Tears of pain.
Of guilt.
Of hatred toward herself.
They flowed, burning, silent, down her temples, into her hair.
She was crying.
She was almost coming.
She hated herself.
And suddenly, she screamed.
— STOP! KAI, STOP!
Her voice broke, hoarse, torn, pleading.
— I can't… I can't do this… I'm sorry…
She pushed him away violently, trembling hands, tears everywhere, jumped to her feet, stumbled, her skirt still lifted, her blouse open, her body naked and stained with desire and shame.
She ran.
She opened the office door.
Closed it behind her.
Ran to the nearby bathrooms.
She collapsed against the cold tiles, hands on her face, unable to breathe.
Her body shaken by sobs.
Her shoulders convulsively rising.
She couldn't do this.
She couldn't take revenge like this.
She couldn't kill a love still alive inside her, even if that love had destroyed her.
In the metallic echo of the Black Orchid's bathrooms,
Nari understood one thing:
she was not ready.
Not to betray.
Not to forget.
Not to replace.
And whatever happened…
Sion was still alive in her heart.
Like a wound.
Like a burn.
Like a ghost that refused to die.