Sofia caught the knowing smiles on her friends' faces as the man—the very one they'd bet on—took her hand and led her to the dance floor.
Their eyes sparkled with mischief and disbelief, but all Sofia could feel was the heat of his touch and the rush pounding in her veins.
The music pulsed around them, low and rhythmic, drowning out the noise of the crowd. But at that moment, all Sofia could hear was the thudding of her own heart.
Adam pulled her too close. One hand on her waist. The other holding hers just a breath above her chest. Her free hand rested lightly against the hard line of his shoulder.
"Still want to get loose?" he murmured, his voice brushing against the shell of her ear, it was low, smooth, and wicked.
Her pulse fluttered like a secret. "Maybe," she whispered back, forcing herself to meet his eyes.
"If you can keep up." She said it with a seductive smile.
His expression shifted, a spark igniting behind his eyes. She wasn't just bold. She was fire itself. He leaned in slightly, just enough for her to feel the brush of his breath.
"Careful what you ask for, sweetheart." His masculine voice made her knees feel weak.
And then they moved. Their bodies found the rhythm with unnerving ease, her hips following his, their steps syncopated with tension and tease. Every time he shifted closer, she met him halfway. Every glance he gave her, she answered with one of her own.
And as the song slowed, so did the distance between them, until it felt like the world narrowed to just the space between their mouths.
They hadn't kissed. Not yet. But the air between them begged for it.
Their faces were inches apart now.
The crowd around them faded—just bodies lost in motion and noise. But Adam only saw her. The defiant curve of her lips. The challenge in her eyes. The invitation she hadn't spoken but was written in every breath she took.
He cupped her jaw with one hand, gentle yet certain, his thumb brushing the corner of her mouth.
"Still in the mood to lose control, just a little?" he asked, his voice a delicious growl against her skin.
Sofia didn't answer. She didn't need to. The way her lashes dipped, the way her lips parted ever so slightly—it was all the answer he needed.
His mouth captured hers with a heat that made her knees weaken, his hand tightening slightly at her waist as he pulled her closer—so close she could feel the hard line of his chest, the heat of his skin beneath his suit.
He kissed her slowly at first—soft, deliberate, savoring every second—then deepened it with a hunger that stole her breath away, his mouth claiming hers like he'd been waiting a lifetime.
Adam felt her surrender in the way her body softened against his. She tasted like temptation and recklessness, sweet and sinful all at once. He kissed her harder, deeper, needing more of her mouth, more of the moan she tried to stifle. For a man who swore never to feel, he was unraveling fast, undone by a stranger's kiss that felt anything but casual.
Sofia had never felt anything like it. The moment his lips touched hers, the world around her vanished. Heat shot through her veins like wildfire, her heart pounding against her ribs. His mouth was demanding, hungry, and she melted into it, tasting desire, and danger. She was drowning, and she didn't want to come up for air.
She melted into him, letting her fingers thread through his hair as her world tilted. It was nothing like she'd imagined—not gentle, not sweet. It was raw, and consuming, and it unraveled something deep inside her.
For one night, she didn't care who he was. Or who she was supposed to be. All that mattered was the way he made her feel—wanted, devoured, seen.
When they finally pulled apart, breathless, his voice was rough. "Come with me." She didn't ask where. She just nodded. Because some nights weren't meant for thinking. Some were meant for forgetting.
And for the first time in her life, Sofia Everhart let go of every rule she'd made for herself and followed the fire.
Sofia returned to their booth to grab her purse, only to find it missing from the spot where she'd left it. Her eyes scanned the plush seating, but it was gone—probably taken by one of her best friends in their rush to the dance floor.
She turned her head and spotted them instantly. Anne and Elise were dancing like the world was ending, their laughter loud and carefree under the neon lights.
For a moment, she envied them. At least they were having fun. At least they didn't have to watch her slip out the back, heart pounding and lips still tingling from a stranger's kiss.
Except she wasn't slipping out. The stranger was still holding her hand. Firm. Unyielding. He hadn't let go since he led her to their table like he already owned the moment—and maybe a part of her. There was something about the way his fingers wrapped around hers, strong and possessive, that sent a pulse of heat straight through her.
"Are you ready?" His voice rumbled low, brushing against her skin like velvet laced with fire.
A shiver rolled down her spine. Her skin prickled. Her heart raced. And though the music thundered around them, she heard only him. That voice. That question.
She swallowed hard. Her body was betraying her, burning in places she didn't know could ache like this. The tequila buzzed through her veins, loosening her edges, and stripping away the fear. Or maybe it wasn't the alcohol at all. Maybe it was just him. The way he looked at her. The way he hadn't asked for anything, but still made her want to give everything.
She'd never felt this kind of desire. Not even with John.
But this man was he was different. And right now, with her world falling apart and her heart still bleeding, she didn't want promises. She didn't want names.
She just wanted to feel something that wasn't pain. And standing this close to him, feeling the heat of his touch and the tension between them, she wanted him.
Adam told himself it was the alcohol. Or maybe the stress of the deal, the absurd condition Raymond had thrown at him, the pressure mounting from every direction. That had to be the reason he couldn't control himself tonight. That had to be why he kissed her.
But the truth clawed through every excuse:
He kissed her not out of curiosity—but because he wanted to.
The moment his lips met hers, all logic unraveled. She didn't taste like tequila or recklessness. She tasted like something forbidden, something he never let himself crave.
And the worst part? He couldn't get enough.
Her kiss stirred something raw in him—hunger, yes, but also heat, and a dangerous kind of pull that made him forget the rules he lived by.
He didn't do this. He didn't blur lines. He didn't invite strangers in. He didn't let women close—not physically, not emotionally. But tonight, he broke that rule. He broke all of them.
Because after tasting her lips, Adam Ravenstrong—cold, calculated, always in control—did something he had never done before:
He had never asked any woman to come with him, women came to him, drawn by his name, his power, his mystery. And he always left without a word, without a backward glance. No attachments. No expectations. No exceptions.
Until now.
Because at that moment, everything else faded.
The billion-dollar merger. The headlines. The ironclad walls he had built around his carefully controlled life—none of it mattered.
All that mattered was her. The way she looked at him without fear, without pretense.The way her lips tasted like sin and defiance. He couldn't let her walk away, not without claiming her.
This wasn't just lust, it was something far more dangerous. A magnetic pull that shook the foundation of everything he thought he wanted.
It hit him the second she kissed him back like her mouth had flipped a switch he didn't know existed. And now, he couldn't turn it off.
No one had ever made him lose control. Hungry and felt alive. He was always the one in command. But with her, he was spiraling. He was burning, and wanted to burn deeper.
Adam led her out of the club, his hand gently resting on the small of her back. The city lights cast a golden hue over the pavement as they stepped into the cool night air. His sleek black car was already waiting at the entrance, engine purring softly, headlights casting long shadows across the asphalt.
The temporary driver, a young man in a pressed uniform, looked hesitant as he stepped forward.
"Are you sure, Mr. Ravenstrong?" he asked, glancing between Adam and the woman at his side.
Adam's jaw tightened slightly. His usual driver was off running a personal errand—this new one wasn't used to questioning him.
"Yes. I'll drive. Take a cab home."
His tone left no room for argument.
He took the keys from the stunned driver without another word and turned to open the door for her.
Sofia paused, her eyes wide as they landed on the luxury vehicle before her. The shine of the metal, the plush interior, the subtle scent of wealth that seemed to spill out—it all screamed a life she didn't belong to. A world that had never been hers.
Still, she didn't speak. Didn't ask.
She just stood there, her lips slightly parted, her body tense with hesitation and curiosity.
"Having second thoughts?" His voice was low, teasing, but laced with something else—something quieter, more cautious.
The question made her lift her gaze to meet his.
The wind caught a strand of her hair, brushing it across her cheek like a lover's whisper. In the soft glow of the streetlights, she looked almost unreal—like a dream, he was afraid to wake from.
She didn't answer right away.
Then, slowly, she shook her head.
No words. No smile. Just that subtle movement and the quiet resolve in her eyes as she stepped forward and slipped inside the car.
He watched her for a second longer than he meant to.
Then, with a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, he shut the door with a soft click and walked around to the driver's side.
His fingers curled around the steering wheel. His pulse thundered in his ears. For once in his meticulously ordered life, Adam didn't know what came next.