The bass throbbed like a heartbeat in the velvet-dark corners of club mirage, deep in the heart of Lunaria City the jewel of Velaria, and the last place Jessica Hale thought she'd ever end up on a Friday night.
But she was here.
Drunk on too many shots of plum wine, heart still raw from another rejection letter, her body swaying to the music like it belonged to someone else.
Tonight wasn't about dreams.
It wasn't about fashion, or ambition, or surviving another week of "almosts."
It was about forgetting.
Her black dress clung to her curves in ways she wasn't used to, and her heels made her legs look longer, stronger. She'd let her wild curls down, bold lipstick on her mouth, but she didn't feel like the girl who wore these things.
Not really.
But she was tired of being careful. Tired of waiting. Tired of saying no to everything — especially herself.
So when the man at the bar caught her eye, tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a jet-black suit that screamed money and danger she didn't look away.
She walked straight toward him.
---
Liam Velar didn't plan on being there.
He hated clubs. Hated noise. Hated anything that distracted him from control. But a corporate partner had insisted on meeting there, and one drink turned into two.
His security had stepped out briefly. Someone handed him a glass.
He drank it.
Minutes later, the room began to blur at the edges. His body felt heavier. The voices around him echoed too loud. He realized too late — he'd been drugged.
Then he saw her.
Her.
She moved like a dream on fire, hips fluid, lips parted, eyes glassy from wine. There was something raw and unspoiled about her. Not in her body but in her energy. Something unclaimed.
When she stepped close, he said the first thing that came to mind.
"You shouldn't be here alone."
She laughed breathless, tipsy. "Maybe I'm not."
"You're definitely not now."
They didn't exchange names.
Just hands. Glances. Touches.
And when she reached for his arm, the world tilted, and they stumbled out into the alley, into the night, into the back of a black car with windows too dark to care.
---
🌙 At the Hotel
The door shut behind them with a soft click.
Velaria Grand Hotel.
Penthouse suite. Moonlight spilling over silk sheets.
He kissed her like a man trying to remember what it felt like to feel.
She kissed him like a girl who'd never done it before and didn't want to stop.
Her hands trembled when he unzipped her dress, and he paused, his fingers brushing her cheek.
"You okay?" he asked, voice husky but gentle.
She hesitated.
Then she nodded.
"I've never… done this," she whispered.
His breath caught. She looked away, embarrassed. But he tilted her chin back to meet his eyes — stormy and dark, but soft.
"We don't have to," he said quietly. "Say the word, and I'll stop."
But she didn't want to stop.
Not because she was drunk. Not because he was hot. Not even because she wanted to rebel against the life that had always told her to wait.
She wanted this with him.
Even if she didn't know his name.
Even if it was just one night.
She kissed him again.
This time deeper.
More desperate.
---
Their clothes fell piece by piece — slow, like unwrapping something sacred. His mouth explored every inch of her skin, worshipping, learning. He moved with a mix of control and hunger, as if he was trying not to break her.
When he finally entered her, he stilled completely cradling her face in his hands.
Her gasp melted into a soft cry.
He kissed away every sound.
Their bodies found a rhythm his thrusts deep and deliberate, her legs wrapping around him like she needed him to anchor her to the earth.
And when she came undone beneath him, trembling and breathless, she knew:
No other night would ever touch this one.
---
In the next morning, Jessica woke with the sun spilling across her bare skin. Her head hurt. Her mouth was dry.
And she wasn't alone.
The man from the club lay next to her, shirtless, one hand still resting on her hip. His face was relaxed in sleep, his lashes long, his jaw sharp.
He looked like sin.
And she had no idea who he was.
Panic bloomed in her chest.
She gathered her dress and heels and slipped out as quietly as she could her heart pounding with a mix of guilt, confusion… and something else.
Regret?
No.
But maybe fear.
Because now that it was over, she realized…
She'd given a part of herself to someone who didn't even know her name.