Chapter 3

• Adrian's POV
• Dubai glittered below me, a sea of lights stretching out into the city, but I barely noticed. The view was spectacular, sure, but it was nothing I hadn't seen before.
• Behind me, she waited. I couldn't even remember her name. Not that it mattered. Names were irrelevant in nights like this- brief, burning, and meaningless by morning.
• I turned back to her, my steps unhurried. She was lounging on the bed, the silk sheets tangled around her body, her hair spilling like ink against the pristine white pillows. She smiled when she saw me, that coy, practiced smile I'd seen a hundred times before.
• "You're incredible," she said, her voice dripping with admiration-or maybe just the idea of what I could give her.
• I didn't answer. I didn't need to. Instead, I set my glass of whiskey on the nightstand and climbed onto the bed, leaning over her. She reached for me, her fingers grazing my chest, but I caught her wrist with one hand and pinned them above her head.
• Her lips parted, her breath catching, and I felt the way her body surrendered beneath me. It was intoxicating for a moment, the way they always gave in so completely. "You like being in control," she whispered, her voice low, teasing.
• I smirked, brushing my mouth against her ear. "You have no idea."
• Her body was soft beneath mine, warm and pliant, as if she'd been made to fit perfectly against me. I trailed my lips along her neck, tasting the faint trace of perfume that clung to her skin-sweet and intoxicating, like honey.
• She arched into me as my hands explored her, fingers grazing over every curve, every soft plane of her body. The silk sheets were cool against my knees as I knelt between her legs, pushing them apart, her gasp sharp as my hand slid along her inner thigh.
• "You're unbelievable," she whispered, her voice trembling, half in awe and half in desperation
• "Is that right?" I murmured, my tone teasing as I caught her gaze. Her pupils were blown wide, her lips parted, and I could see the way her chest rose and fell with every shallow breath.
• I leaned down, catching her lower lip between my teeth, tugging just hard enough to make her moan. The sound spurred me on, and my lips crashed into hers-hungry, demanding, as though I could swallow her whole. She clung to me, her nails raking down my back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
• Her body responded to mine without hesitation, every movement a perfect rhythm we didn't have to think about. I pressed her deeper into the mattress, her thighs wrapping around me as she pulled me closer, her breathless whimpers filling the air between us.
• When I pushed into her, her gasp shattered into a low, guttural moan, her head tilting back as her nails dug into my shoulders. The sensation was electric, a fire roaring to life between us, and I lost myself in the push and pull of our bodies.
• She moved with me, her hands tangling in my hair, pulling hard enough to send a spark of pain down my spine, the kind that only fueled the fire. Her legs tightened around my waist, her nails raking over my back, leaving trails of heat that would linger long after tonight.
• It wasn't just sex; it was a battle for control, a game of who could drive the other to the edge first. And I always won.
• Her cries built into a crescendo, her body trembling beneath mine as she shattered, her release pulling me down with her moments later. The pleasure hit me hard, sharp and fleeting, like a spark that burned out too quickly.
• I collapsed beside her, catching my breath as she curled into me, her fingers lazily tracing circles on my chest. She sighed contentedly, a smile playing at her lips as she murmured, "You're... something else, Adrian."
• I stared at the ceiling, the high from the moment already fading, leaving only the faint hum of satisfaction behind. She'd been exquisite, yes, but in the end, she was just another momentary distraction.
• "Get some rest," I said quietly, my voice detached.I left the bed without a word, her contented sighs fading into the background as I stepped onto the balcony. The warm Dubai air wrapped around me, carrying with it the faint hum of the city below. Even at this hour, the streets were alive—an endless stream of cars and people, all moving as if they had somewhere important to be. I leaned against the railing, my grip firm on the cool metal, and let the silence of the moment settle over me.
• The woman inside had already begun to drift off, her soft murmurs fading. She wouldn’t expect me to linger, and she’d be right. I had no interest in waking up beside her, exchanging pleasantries or meaningless promises I had no intention of keeping.
• I pulled my phone from my pocket, scrolling through my contacts until I found the one I was looking for. The screen lit up as I dialed, the ringing cutting through the stillness.
• "Mr. West," came the voice on the other end, crisp and professional despite the late hour. Captain Harding always answered on the first ring—he knew better than to keep me waiting.
• "Prepare the jet," I said, my tone cold and precise. "I’m leaving Dubai tomorrow evening. Have it ready by six sharp."
• "Of course, sir," Harding replied without hesitation. "Destination?"
• "New York," I said firmly. "And make sure the staff is on board an hour early. I don’t want delays. Fuel, clearance, everything—handle it."
• "Understood, sir," he said.
• I paused, my gaze sweeping across the glittering city below. For a moment, the faint sound of music drifted up from somewhere far below, barely audible against the hum of traffic. "And Harding," I added, my voice dropping an octave, "I don’t need excuses. If there’s even a minute’s delay, you’ll answer for it. Am I clear?"
• "Crystal clear, Mr. West," Harding replied, his tone tense but steady. He knew what was at stake.
• I ended the call without another word, slipping the phone back into my pocket. The night stretched out before me, endless and empty. New York would be waiting, as it always was—a city as relentless as I was, full of opportunities to drown out the noise in my head. Deals to close, empires to build, and distractions to keep me moving forward.
• I turned back toward the room, the faint glow from the bedside lamp casting long shadows across the space. She was asleep now, curled into the sheets, oblivious to the world around her. For a moment, I simply watched her. Peaceful. Vulnerable. Too comfortable.
• “Wake up,” I said, my tone sharp, cutting through the quiet like a blade.
• She stirred, a soft groan slipping past her lips as she rolled onto her side. “Mmm, come back to bed,” she murmured, her voice drowsy, her arm stretching toward where I’d been lying earlier.
• “I said, wake up.” This time, my voice was colder, more commanding, leaving no room for misinterpretation.
• Her eyes fluttered open, confusion clouding her gaze as she sat up. “What’s wrong?” she asked, brushing her hair out of her face.
• “You’re leaving,” I said bluntly, stepping toward the nightstand and grabbing my wallet.
• She blinked at me, her mouth opening slightly in shock. “Leaving? It’s the middle of the night.”
• “And?” I shot back, arching a brow as I pulled out a thick stack of bills. “I’m not your boyfriend. This isn’t some romantic getaway. Get dressed and go.”
• Her expression shifted from surprise to indignation, a flush rising to her cheeks as she pulled the sheets tighter around herself. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?” she snapped, her voice laced with anger. “Do you always treat people like this? Like they’re disposable?”
• I let out a low, humorless laugh, tossing the cash onto the bed. “Everyone knows the rules going in. Don’t pretend this was anything more than what it was.” I crossed my arms, fixing her with an icy stare. “Take the money and leave.
• She glared at me, her chest rising and falling with each angry breath. “You think you can buy people, don’t you? That throwing money around makes up for being an asshole?”
• I didn’t bother responding. Instead, I grabbed her clothes from where they’d been carelessly discarded on the floor and threw them onto the bed beside her. “Get dressed,” I said, my tone leaving no room for argument.
• She hesitated, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched the sheets. For a moment, I thought she might keep arguing, but then she scoffed, throwing the sheets aside and standing. “You’re just a miserable, empty man,” she spat, yanking her dress over her head. “I feel sorry for you.”
• I smirked, leaning casually against the wall as I watched her. “Don’t waste your pity. I’m exactly who I want to be.”
• She grabbed her shoes and purse, shooting me one last withering glare. “You’re a bastard. You know that?”
• I didn’t flinch. I simply walked to the door, opened it, and gestured for her to leave. “And you’re still here.
• Her jaw clenched, but she marched past me, her heels clicking against the marble floor, muttering something under her breath as she walked down the hallway.
• The door clicked shut behind her, and the silence that followed was deafening.
• I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck as I crossed the room and poured myself another drink. The amber liquid swirled in the glass as I took a sip, the familiar burn spreading through my chest.
• Tomorrow, New York. Tonight, silence.