WRITER'S POV:
The suite was quiet, but nothing about it felt calm.Ivy lay on the couch, blanket pulled to her chest like it could shield her from thoughts. From memories. From him.Dinner had been a mistake.A delicious, charged, intoxicating mistake.His words played on a loop in her head: You've been trying not to want this since the moment we met. I'm worse.She rolled over. Then rolled back. Her skin was too warm, her dress still hung over the back of a chair, and her heartbeat was staging a mutiny against common sense.Across the suite, a door creaked.She sat up—slowly, cautiously—just in time to see Cassius step into the kitchen area, barefoot, shirtless again (because of course), glass of water in his hand.His eyes found hers instantly.Neither of them spoke."Couldn't sleep?" she asked, voice too quiet.He shook his head. Took a sip. "You?""Same."The silence stretched again. But this one wasn't cold—it was heavy. Saturated. Like the suite itself was waiting for something.Cassius walked over, casually, like gravity worked differently for him. He sat on the edge of the couch, not touching her, just close enough to be felt."You're still thinking about it," he said."So are you."His jaw shifted. The glass in his hand stayed perfectly still."You want me to say it," he said. "You want me to name it. But you're scared what happens if I do.""And you're not?"He looked at her, eyes dark and burning. "I'm terrified."That stopped her breath."But you won't stop," she said."No."Her fingers twisted the blanket. She was two seconds from combusting. "So what are we doing, Cassius?""We're lying to ourselves. Badly."The air between them pulsed. Neither of them moved.Then—slowly, like time was melting—he reached out and touched her hand.Just that.No fireworks. No declarations.But his hand was warm. Steady. Real.She didn't pull away."I keep trying to be smart," she whispered."And I keep trying to be decent.""We're both failing."He looked down at their joined hands. His thumb brushed lightly over her knuckles."Do you want me to stop?"It was the quietest question he'd ever asked. Not a threat. Not a dare. Just... honesty.Ivy looked at him. Saw every impossible thing about him in one moment."No," she said.He leaned in.Closer.And then—*A phone rang.Sharp. Loud. Unforgiving.Cassius froze. Eyes narrowing.He stood, grabbed his phone from the counter, and answered."Yes."A pause.His whole posture changed."I'm on my way."He looked back at Ivy, regret etched in every angle of his face."Don't go anywhere."And just like that, the tension broke.He was gone.---But Ivy couldn't sleep.Not after that.She lay there in the dark, replaying every breath, every look, every word like they were clues in a murder investigation. And maybe they were. She felt like a victim. Of longing. Of confusion. Of whatever spell Cassius had woven into the air tonight.Her feet moved before her brain gave permission.She tiptoed to the door. Pressed her ear to it. Nothing.Then she opened it.The hallway was dim, marble and silence stretching in either direction. No guards. No Cassius. No answers.She walked.Not with a plan—more like a mission from the part of her brain that had officially declared mutiny.Her first stop was Monday's room. She knocked gently. No answer. Either he was out, asleep, or pretending not to hear her because he sensed emotional chaos on the other side.Next stop: Jason.Again, nothing.Of course. The dynamic duo had probably followed Cassius to whatever emergency he'd vanished into. Mafia business, no doubt. Dark suits. Darker secrets.She should've gone back to the suite.She didn't.Instead, she crept down to the lower level of the hotel, where the private conference rooms were—the kind with names like "Orchid Room" and "Executive Sanctuary." Most were dark. Except one.Soft light spilled beneath the crack in the door. Ivy hesitated.Then—because she had the survival instincts of a haunted Victorian heroine—she pressed her ear to the door.Muffled voices. One of them definitely Cassius. Calm. Deadly.Another voice—a man's—sharper. Nervous."She's a liability. If she knows—""She doesn't," Cassius said. "And she won't. Unless you want to make this worse."Ivy's breath caught.She backed away quickly, her heart a war drum, her limbs suddenly liquid. She didn't wait for more. She fled back up the stairs, back to the suite, back to the only place she could pretend none of this was happening.But the truth followed her like a shadow.She wasn't just falling for him.She was falling into something.And she might never come back out.