Emily

“Why do you have to go through with this engagement? Don’t you love me anymore?”

I paused.

I was standing near the restroom, watching them, they couldn't even close the door properly, it simply showed how foolish they were

The sound of Lily’s voice, pleading and soft, carried through the dim evening air. It was intimate, vulnerable.

Nathan’s arm tightened around her shoulder. “It’s not like that, Lily,” he said gently. “You know this isn’t a choice I could make on my own. It’s… it’s been decided since we were children. I don't have a say.”

Coward.

Lily’s lips trembled, but she pressed closer to him. Her cheek brushed his, and I noticed the subtle tilt of her head, the way she inhaled sharply, eyes flashing toward me even as she clung to him, a smirk on her lips.

I had expected this.

I had known, long before tonight, that there was history here. That something had existed between them, something tender, something unspoken. But the sight of it now—Lily’s quiet defiance and Nathan’s careful patience—made the irritation bubble in me. Not because I cared about Nathan. Not because I was jealous. I was above that.

It was the disrespect I felt, the audacity of their little display, right here at our engagement party.

In public, where anyone could see them, the recklessness.

Nathan leaned down, brushing his lips to Lily’s, soft at first, as if testing the waters, as if this kiss could smooth over the edges of their disagreement. Lily responded instantly, her hand moving to his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, eyes dark and smug as they found mine across the crowd.

That smirk. That deliberate, brazen look.

She was claiming him. In front of me. And worse, she was daring me to care.

Nathan’s lips moaned against hers, and I felt a small, uncomfortable twist in my stomach—not desire, but intrusion. The kiss deepened, unhurried, intimate, and for a moment I caught the faint scent of his cologne—the one Lily had always leaned into, the one I could never let myself forget.

I turned away.

The polite mask slid back into place as I returned to the party, my heels clicking against the polished stone, a smile painted carefully across my face. I raised a hand, nodded, and murmured the usual pleasantries to distant cousins, long-lost aunts, and family friends whose names I didn’t remember. My glass never left my hand. My voice never faltered.

Inside, I was counting the minutes, measuring their audacity, remembering the way Nathan’s hand rested on her waist, the ease with which she leaned into him. Their little performance of love—so obvious, so calculated—made my skin crawl. Not because I wanted Nathan, but because I had spent years learning to control my own space, my own image, my own boundaries. And now they trampled over them as though they were entitled to it.

I knew their story, their history. I had known before tonight. But witnessing it firsthand, seeing the deliberate glances and small, sharp gestures—Lily’s hand brushing against his chest, her eyes catching mine and holding it, a silent dare—it was audacious. And it made me… angry. Pissed.

I sipped my drink, pretending to admire the floral arrangements. Nothing about this evening belonged to me, and yet, I had to navigate it. Smile, nod, participate. That was all anyone expected. That was all I had ever been allowed to expect.

“Emily!”

A warm, friendly voice broke through my thoughts. I turned to see Mrs. Carter, her hands clasped in delight, a bouquet of orchids spilling from her arms. “I’m so glad you’re here! Do come over, we haven’t had a proper chance to talk.”

I nodded politely, adjusting the hem of my dress and letting a tight smile take over my features. The world did not need to know I had just witnessed a kiss that wasn’t mine to care about. The world needed me calm, composed, and presentable.

I moved toward the Carters, keeping my head high. A few well-placed laughs, a small blush when someone commented on the engagement, polite appreciation when gifts were given. My mask was flawless, practiced.

And all the while, I felt it: the weight of eyes on me. Not from Lily. Not from Nathan. Someone else. Somewhere across the garden, in the shadows beneath the marble terrace, someone was watching me.

I turned back, scanning the crowd, my eyes met ones I'd never seen before, he kept his eyes on mine, and I looked away, something about the look in his yes unsettled me.

When I looked back, he was engrossed in discussions with a group of men who kept bowing slightly as they shook his hands

He seemed like someone important but I'd never seem him, I'd probably ask Nathan later when he's done with his 'rendezvous'

I moved on, greeting more guests, chatting in carefully measured tones, pouring myself another drink to maintain appearances. Toasts. Polite laughter. Polished responses. Smooth nods. Observant eyes.

All a game I knew how to play too well

Nathan did not return until later, his lips swollen from the kiss and Lily trailing behind him.

I simply laced my hands around his, adjusting his tie as cameras clicked around us, wanting to take a hot shot of the latest elite couple in the society.

I felt those eyes on me again, but I ignored it reaching for a glass of champagne as I and Nathan climbed the stage, thanking everyone for coming and participating in this 'special moment' that would mark the beginning of a union between two families

Everyone clapped, murmuring how perfect we seemed together.

I downed the drink in a toast, distancing myself from Nathan the moment we were no longer the focus of attention

The alcohol warmed me quickly, loosening the tight coil in my chest. Conversations blurred into background noise—laughter, clinking glasses, polite congratulations. I smiled when required, nodded when spoken to, but my thoughts kept drifting back to dark eyes and a voice that didn’t ask permission.

By the time the party began to thin out, I felt… light. Not drunk enough to lose myself, but enough that the edges softened. Enough that my body felt louder than my conscience.

When I finally excused myself, it was with a polite lie about being tired.

A housekeeper pointed me down a hallway. “Guest rooms are on the right,” she said.

I nodded and walked—slowly, carefully, heels quiet against the carpet.

The door I chose looked like any other.

I didn’t realize my mistake until I was already inside. It was obvious it wasn't a guest room, the room was tastefully designed and the specificity and complexity of it could not be denied. I looked around, whoever lived here was definitely not someone to mess with, the expensive decorations alone were enough to make my father grovel and make my stepmother's mouth water.

It was larger. Masculine in a way the guest rooms weren’t—deep colors, clean lines, a faint scent of expensive cologne and something sharper beneath it.

I should have left.

Instead, I sat on the edge of the bed.

My head felt heavy. My thoughts slow and slippery. I told myself I’d rest for a minute and then find the correct room.

That was when the door opened.

Emily

I looked up, surprise evident on my face.

Why was he here?

I forgot to ask Nathan about him.

The unknown man stood there, jacket already off, sleeves rolled back, as if he’d been expecting to end his night alone—which was normal, except he should be in a guest room, not here. He seemed older, probably in his late thirties, and carried himself with a weight of authority and confidence.

His gaze dropped to me.

The silence stretched.

“You’re in the wrong room,” he said.

“So are you” I retorted.

He raised an eyebrow, didn’t move to leave.

Instead, he closed the door behind him.

The click echoed in my chest.

“You’ve been drinking,” he observed.

“A little,” I said.

I stood, a little unsteady, and he reached out—not to touch me, but to steady me. His hands hovered, giving me time. Choice.

I didn’t step away.

That was when his fingers finally closed around my arm.

Warm. Firm. Controlled.

“You should leave,” he said quietly.

“So should you” I replied.

Neither of us moved.

Then his lips were on mine.

I froze, then kissed him back, if Nathan could frolick around with Lily right under my nose, then I could allow myself this one night of passion.

The mysterious man pulled back just enough to look at me.

“This doesn’t happen if you don’t want it to,” he said.

I nodded. “I want it.”

That was all it took.

His lips were back on mine. Deeper now, more aggressive, like he wanted to swallow me whole.

I responded as much as I could, moans slipping out of me before I could control them.

I clamped my mouth shut trying to stifle the moans as his mouth traced down my neck, his teeth grazing my skin.

That would definitely leave marks, but I was too overwhelmed to worry about that.

His eyes moved slowly towards my hands covering !y mouth.

"What are you doing?" he asked. Curiousity and something else...fear maybe, flicking through his eyes.

"There are people in the house" I replied, expecting him to get it. But he didn't.

"And?"

"They'll hear us. And what if the owner of the room comes in?"

He smiled, relief spreading across his face as he buried his face in my neck.

"I thought you changed your mind." he said, his hand moving along my back to unzip my dress, his eyes locked into mine.

I place a kiss on his lips.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but I'm being so bold right now. This is so unlike me, but it would be nice to unshackle myself once in a while right?

"I didn't" I reply, dropping my arms and letting the dress fall down to my waist.

It was an armless gown and I didn't wear a bra underneath.

His gaze moved over me slowly, as if committing each part of me to memory. The desire and hunger in his eyes made my proud of myself in a way I'd never been.

It made me feel beautiful.

I stood up gently, letting the dress fall to the ground and kicking my heels away.

His eyes roamed over my body as he took me in, his desire for me burning in his eyes.

I loved it, the way he looked at me like I was the most beautiful woman in the world made my heart race.

"We still have to be quiet" I reminded him as he took my hand in his and guided us back to the bed.

"Don't worry, this room has enough soundproofing" there was pride in his voice "you can scream as much as you'd like."

I flushed, my heart racing as he laid me back against the bed, his lips all over me again, this time harder and faster like he couldn't wait to taste every part of me.

My hands moved along his torso to undo the button on his shirt and I gasped at the feeling of his skin on my fingers.

He was fit. For an older man, I wasn't expecting much but he was muscular, his body packed with muscles in the right places, how could someone be this perfect?

My hands moved along his upper torso, fingers brushing him softly above his belt.

He flinched, his breath getting deeper as he grabbed my hands, pinning them above my head with one hand as he continued worshipping my body with kisses, his other hand tracing the lines around my breast, making me moan in anticipation.

I gasped as he took the breast in one hand, kneading it softly, his thumb rubbing my nipple in a way that made my toes curl, heat pooling in my belly. His mouth was on the other breast, bitting and sucking, his other hand left mine, taking my breast in it.

I screamed, my back arching forward as his tongue traced circles along my nipple.

His mouth left my breasts, tracing kisses down my belly. His hand stopped at the strap of my underwear and he looked up at me, his eyes begging for permission.

I nodded, once, and he smiled, the underwear gone in an instance.

"You're wet" his voice was tense, his breathing ragged, like he was trying to restrain himself.

His fingers moved along my inner thigh and I sucked in a breath, my eyes shut in embarrassment.

"Look at me" he commanded, his thumb tracing circles around me, my eyes flew open, insides twisting at the authority in his voice.

"Oh my God!" I sreamed, my body tensing as he slipped a finger into me, heat pooling low in my belly as I clung to him, my fingernails scratching into his back.

Another finger, and I came, screaming loudly as the heat rushed through me.

"Fuck" his voice was husky, eyes locked onto mine, "do you really want this? Can I?"

Why does he keep asking the same question?

I nodded.

His hands left me to unbuckle his belt and I watched as his pants came off, his eyes on mine as he took off his underwear.

I tensed, and he smirked, "don't worry it'll fit"

"It... it's my first time," I stammered, how am I supposed to survive that thing.

"I know" he replied, "I'll be gentle"

He moved closer, and I instinctively moved back, my eyes locked at the weapon between his legs.

He grabs me, pulling me closer as he settles himself between my legs.

"I'll be gentle, I promise" he reassured, lips brushing against mine.

But I didn't believe, how gentle could you be with that thing.

The kiss deepened and I felt myself melt in his arms, the tension leaving my body slowly.

His mouth left mine as his hands slipped between us, his eyes locked on mine as though reassuring me.

I winced as I felt him enter me.

He tensed, his eyes on me.

"Continue" I said, my teeth gritting in pain.

Another thrust and I cried out, tears pooling in my eyes, he paused, holding me in his hands as he soothed me.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm ok, is it all in?"

"This will do for now" he replied, "you can't take more "

I wanted to protest, but he shut me off with a kiss, withdrawing a bit and thrusting back in as slowly as he could.

The rest of the night unfolded in fragments. I don't know how many times we did it or how long we spent, but I loved every bit of it, his mouth tracing slow, deliberate paths; his hands learning me with patience that felt almost dangerous. He guided rather than took, watching my reactions like he was memorizing them.

I felt exposed in a way I never had before.

Desired without my mask on.

Wanted without having to fake it.

The quiet sound of my name on his lips. Time blurred. Thoughts dissolved.

By the time I finally slept, it was with his presence wrapped around me, warmth enveloping me in a way that made me feel protected.

Emily

The sunlight hit my eyes first. Then, slowly, the reality of the night before came into focus.

I was naked. Not under a blanket, not half-covered. Naked. With a man I didn't know by my side.

I froze for a moment, holding my breath, expecting panic or shame to hit. It didn’t. Not exactly. Not like I thought it would.

Instead, a surprising calm spread through me, like the kind you feel after surviving a storm.

I hadn’t regretted it.

Not a single bit.

My mind had finally caught up to my body, the alcohol having worn off enough for clarity. I could remember everything—his hands, his voice, the way he moved over me—and even now, thinking about it made my pulse flutter and my stomach ache with a kind of familiar longing.

But calm came next, along with worry.

Consequences.

Not because I was ashamed—though I wasn’t proud, either—but because we lived in a world where everything had repercussions. The Browns, the Carters, Nathan… the mess this would create if anyone found out.

Nathan was a man, people would simply wave his affairs way, but I was different, I was a woman with only my perfect image to my name, if any of this ever leaked, I'd be ruined.

Totally ruined.

I rolled carefully, careful not to wake him, and studied him. He slept like he owned the world. Broad shoulders, the faint rise and fall of muscle beneath smooth skin. Dark hair falling across his forehead. Even in sleep, he radiated control. Command. Power.

And yet… last night he had been gentle. Careful.

I swallowed, sitting up slowly, trying to slip out of the bed

"Where are you going?" his voice was groggy, but there was no mistaking the shivers that ran through me at the sound

“Hmm... I'm leaving” I said quietly, testing my voice. "I need to get out of here before anyone comes knocking, we should be grateful the owner of this room didn't come yesterday, I can't even imagine what would have happened", My eyes searched around for my clothes, and I found it at the edge of the bed, keeping myself covered with the sheets, I reached for it.

"This is my room" I froze, "So you don't have to worry about anyone 'disturbing' us"

His room?

"Your room?" I asked

"Yes", he replied

"You have a room here?" He nodded, "in the Carter's family house?" He nodded again, "Who are you?" I asked

"Who do you think?" He asked, sitting up now, a taunting smile on his face,

Was he... mocking me?

I know Nathan doesn't have a brother, and I wasn't actually close enough with him to know if he had any friends close enough to earn a room in the Carter's house.

I picked up my dress, the zip was torn, it wasn't wearable, i didn't care who he was as long as this was kept a secret

"Whoever you are," I started, "I'd like to ask that we keep what happened between us a secret, I'm sure you also don't want this..." I gestured between us, "to get out"

'Why?" He asked

I turned to look at him, was I speaking another language?

"Why what?"

"Why do we have to keep this a secret?" He continued

What kind of stupid question was that?

"Because there will be consequences of course" I replied

“Consequences?” he repeated softly, and the edge in his voice made me shiver. “I don’t care about consequences.”

I blinked. “What?”

“I said,” he leaned forward, resting one hand on the bed near me, keeping me pinned by the weight of his presence, “you’re mine now. My woman. And I don’t intend to let you go.”

I froze. With shock.

“Yours? I, we—” My voice caught. “We can’t—”

“I said, you’re mine,” he repeated, flatly, almost casually, like he was stating the weather. “And if anyone—anyone—tries to take you away or interfere, I will make sure they regret it.”

My stomach dropped. He's crazy. How can he say that so easily when he just attended my engagement party and I don't even know him.

Well, I'm also in bed with him so maybe I'm also crazy. But I can sort this out. I always do.

“So...wait—wait a second,” I said, trying to gather my thoughts. “So what do you want me to do now? Be… with you?”

He leaned back slightly, eyes dark, commanding. “I’ll marry you.”

The words hit me like a slap.

It's confirmed.

He's crazy.

I almost laughed, almost cried, almost shouted. “Excuse me? Mr.man… I’m engaged. To Nathan Carter. Your... I don't know even know, friend? Brother?”

He smirked, unbothered, almost amused by my objection. “And?”

“And… and that matters. It’s… I mean…” I stammered, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. “I can’t. We… you can’t just—”

“I just did,” he interrupted. His voice was calm, even teasing, but carrying that weight—that command. “You’re mine. I will marry you. And if you refuse, Emily…” His eyes glinted, sharp, almost predatory. “…I will tell everyone everything that happened last night.”

My stomach lurched. My pulse raced. The consequences I had tried so hard to avoid were suddenly all too real.

Was he being serious right now?

He's also involved, isn't he worried about his reputation?

“Wait,” I said, my voice firmer now, trying to regain control, “we can't…get married."

"Why?" His tone was harsh "You'll risk ruining your reputation for Nathan?"

I sighed. "It's not that. It's just... I’m not ready to get married. But, I can be… with you. If you promise to keep it secret.”

He leaned closer, and I could feel the heat radiating off him. He studied me, not like someone making a deal, but like someone who had already won.

“And why,” he asked softly, dangerously, “would I ever want to keep it a secret?”

I swallowed hard, trying to maintain control. “Because… because I don’t want anyone else involved. I don’t want to complicate things. I want you to… be considerate.”

He smiled slowly, predatory but amused, and leaned back. “Considerate. That’s… cute. Fine. We keep it secret. For now.”

“For now,” I repeated, feeling the word like a shield. I swallowed the lump of desire and fear in my throat and tried to draw a line.

He'd probably get bored of me in a few days and I have my peace again.

I sighed in relief, it was a win-win.

He chuckled softly, a sound that made my pulse spike. “You really think this will last as just a relationship?”

“I… I hope you get over me soon,” I admitted, trying to sound casual.

He tilted his head, eyes glinting with something like amusement mixed with obsession. “Oh, Emily,” he said softly, almost reverently, “you think I could get over you?”

I looked away, gripping the sheet around me. I was still level-headed. I had to be. I had to keep some control.

He leaned forward, resting his forehead lightly against mine. His hand slid to the back of my neck, holding me in place with gentle yet unyielding strength.

“Ok, let's keep it between us. For now,” he murmured, lips brushing against mine in a whisper. “But don’t fool yourself. You’ll never be just temporary to me.”

I closed my eyes, letting the warmth of his body and the weight of his gaze wash over me. I didn’t regret last night. I didn’t regret him.

But now I had to survive this. Navigate it. Control it—or try to.

“And if you break this,” I said softly, opening my eyes, meeting his, “I’ll… I’ll make sure there are consequences.”

His laugh was low and throaty. “I doubt you will. Because you’re mine, Emily. And now, everyone else can just deal with it.”

"Well, you can dare me". I replied. "Now do you have a robe I can put on? I need to get out of here"