Tessa woke up to silence.
Not the comforting kind. Not the peaceful kind.
The kind that felt too clean… too expensive.
Her lashes fluttered open, and the first thing she noticed was the ceiling.
White. Smooth. High.
"This isn't…" Her voice came out hoarse. "This isn't my room."
She pushed herself up slowly, a dull ache blooming behind her temples. Her head throbbed like someone had taken a hammer to it and forgotten to stop.
"Okay," she whispered. "Okay, think."
She looked around.
The room was massive. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city skyline, sunlight pouring in without apology. Dark furniture. Minimalist. Cold. Nothing about the room said home.
Her stomach dropped.
She glanced to her side.
The bed was empty.
No warm body. No stranger breathing beside her. Just rumpled sheets and the unmistakable indentation where someone else had slept.
Her heart began to race.
"Hello?" she called softly, then louder. "Hello?"
Nothing.
She swallowed and looked down.
Her breath hitched.
She was naked.
Completely. Utterly. No dress. No underwear. No nothing.
"Oh my God."
She yanked the sheet up to her chest, pulse hammering so loud she was sure it echoed in the room.
"What happened?" she whispered.
She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing her mind to work.
The club.
The drinks.
The shots.
A man.
Tall. Broad. Dark hair. A voice that had curled around her spine like smoke.
She groaned, pressing her fingers to her temples.
"Think, Tessa. Think."
Flashes came and went. Laughing. Music. Heat. His eyes on her. His hands—
She froze.
"No," she breathed. "No, no, no."
Her eyes snapped open again.
"I didn't—did I?"
Her body answered before her mind could. A dull soreness. Not pain. Just… awareness.
Her chest tightened.
"Oh my God."
She flung the covers back and jumped off the bed, immediately crouching as the cool floor met her bare feet.
"My clothes," she muttered frantically. "Where are my clothes?"
She scanned the room.
Nothing.
"No, no, no,this is not funny."her forehead creased in confusion
She dropped to her knees, lifting the edge of the bed. Empty.
She ran to the chair near the window. Her dress hung there,neatly folded.
Too neatly.
"That's… creepy."
She grabbed it, clutching it to her chest like armor.
"And my underwear?" she asked the empty room. "Please tell me I didn't leave without my underwear."She took a deep breath as her eyes scanned the room
She searched the floor. The bedside table. Under the chair.
Nothing.
Her face burned.
"Oh my God. Where are my panties?"
She groaned, standing up and spinning in a slow, panicked circle.
"This is my life now? I wake up naked in a stranger's house and can't even find my—"
The door opened.
She screamed.
"AH—!"
She dove for the nearest thing she could find, yanking the pillow off the bed and pressing it to her chest just as a man walked in.
He stopped short.
The air shifted.
He stood there, calm, composed, completely unbothered, wearing only gray sweatpants that sat low on his hips, his beautiful bare chest on full display.
Her breath caught despite herself.
Broad shoulders. Defined arms. A chest carved like he'd been sculpted by intention. Morning light kissed his skin, highlighting every line, every muscle.
She stared at him, forgetting she was still looking for her panties.
Then immediately, she jolted back to reality
"Focus, Tessa. Focus" she muttered beneath her breath
She glared at him, clutching the pillow tighter.
"Do you mind?"
His gaze swept over her, slow, assessing, unreadable, before flicking away.
"You're awake," he said flatly.
"That's what screaming usually means."
He didn't react.
Didn't apologize.
Didn't even look embarrassed.
Instead, he walked past her, completely unfazed, and went to the other side of the bed. He opened a drawer, pulled something out, and turned back.
Money.
Her stomach sank.
He tossed it onto the bed.
The bills fluttered before settling against the sheets.
"There," he said. "Cab fare included."
The room went very, very still.
Tessa stared at the money. Then at him.
Then back at the money.
"What… is that?" she asked slowly
Her brows were knitted together never failing to hide her confusion
His brow creased slightly. "Payment."
Her chest tightened.
"Payment for what?"she raised her voice slightly
He shrugged. "Last night."
The words hit her like a slap.
She laughed once. Sharp. Disbelieving.
"You think I'm a—?"her lips press into a thin line, subtly at the corner
He cut her off with a look.
"You don't have to pretend. I don't judge."
She felt heat crawl up her neck, as her eyes widened in disbelief.
"Pretend?" she echoed. "Judge?"
He leaned against the dresser, arms crossed, calm and detached.
"You came onto me. You knew what this was."
Her hands shook, her stare sharpened
"I was drunk," she said. "That doesn't mean—"
"It means exactly that," he replied coolly. "You did your job. You get paid. End of story."
Her jaw tightened as she clenched her teeth
Silence stretched between them.
Then Tessa laughed again—but this time, it trembled.
"Oh wow," she whispered. "Wow."
She shook her head slowly. "You really think that's who I am."
He didn't answer.
That was worse.
She dropped the pillow and bent down again, frantically searching the floor.
"Where are they?" she muttered.
He frowned. "What are you doing?"
"My panties," she snapped. "I'm looking for my panties."
He blinked. "Your—"
"Yes. My underwear. The thing normal people wear."She narrowed her gaze at him
Then she checked under the bed again, mortification burning her cheeks.
"This is humiliating," she muttered. "This is officially the most humiliating moment of my life."
He sighed. "They're over here."
She froze.
Slowly, she turned.
He held them between two fingers, dangling casually like they meant nothing.
Her soul left her body.
"Oh my God," she breathed.
"You dropped them," he said flatly
"I dropped my dignity," she snapped, marching over and snatching them from his hand. "Thanks for holding onto it."
She rushed past him and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
She locked it.
Then slid down against it, pressing her forehead to her knees.
"Get it together," she whispered. "Get. It. Together."
She dressed quickly, hands shaking as she pulled on her clothes, avoiding her reflection.
When she came out, he was already by the door, keys in hand.
She glanced at the bed.
The money was still there.
She walked over, picked it up—and dropped it right back where it was.
"I don't want it," she said.
He paused. "Suit yourself."
She didn't look at him again.
She walked out.
The elevator ride felt endless.
The cab ride felt unreal.
As the city blurred past, she hugged herself, staring out the window.
Forget it, she told herself. Forget all of it.
When she reached her friend's apartment, she pulled out her phone with trembling fingers and typed a message.
Tessa: Hey. I'm coming over. Please don't ask questions.
The reply came almost instantly.
Friend: Are you okay?
Tessa stared at the screen.
Then she typed:
Tessa: I will be. I just need you.
She put the phone down, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the cab.
She didn't look back.
She didn't know that somewhere across the city, Alexander Reid stood by his window, staring at the untouched money on his bed—
And wondering why, for the first time in years, the silence felt wrong.