Page 3

I stare down at the mess on my dress, my heart sinking. The liquid has soaked right through, and the cold wet fabric clings to my skin. My face heats up as I realize it’s basically see-through.

I feel panic rising, and I cover myself instinctively with my arms. I need to leave, find somewhere to clean up. I don’t even notice the man standing in front of me until I hear his voice, low and steady.

“You alright?”

I glance up and my breath catches. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp blue eyes that lock on to mine. His features are rugged, handsome in a way that’s almost intimidating. He’s not the kind of guy I’d usually talk to—too intense, too powerful. Yet, there’s something magnetic about him, something that makes me forget for a second that my dress is ruined. I can’t help but notice how his eyes travel over me, from my face down to the soaked fabric sticking to my body.

“You’re soaked. Are you okay?”

I don’t even know how to respond. I glance down at my dress again, trying to hide my embarrassment. Before I can think of what to do next, he shrugs off his jacket and places it over my shoulders. The weight of it feels oddly comforting, and I pull it tighter, grateful for the warmth and coverage. His scent lingers on the fabric—woodsy, masculine—and I feel my pulse quicken for reasons I don’t quite understand.

“Thanks,” I manage to say, glancing up at him. His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, everything around us fades—the blaring music, the flashing lights, the crowd. It’s just me and him, standing too close.

He studies me for a second longer before speaking. “You shouldn’t be in this crowd with a dress like that,” he says, his gaze lingering on the wet fabric beneath the jacket.

I nod, my throat dry. He’s right. I need to get out of here, but I can’t seem to find the words.

“Let’s go somewhere quieter,” he suggests, his voice cutting through the noise. “Or better yet, my place is nearby. You can change into something dry.”

My heart skips a beat. His place? I know what that means—or what it could mean. My mind races, weighing the options. Part of me knows this is crazy. I don’t even know this guy. Then again, maybe it’s not so crazy. Maybe this is exactly what I need. It’s been so long since I did something impulsive, something just for me.

I glance around the club, hoping to spot Maeve, but she’s nowhere in sight. Figures. She probably ditched me as soon as her ex showed up. I’m alone, in this massive crowd, and the idea of staying here, soaked and humiliated, isn’t appealing.

I look back at him. There’s something in his eyes that feels… reassuring. Safe, even though I know he’s anything but. He’s clearly dangerous, powerful. Yet, I’m not scared of him. I’m drawn to him.

“You don’t have to come,” he says, his voice softer now. “If you do, I promise you won’t regret it.”

My pulse quickens. This is a terrible idea. I don’t even know his name. But maybe that’s the point. Maybe I need a terrible idea right now. Something to shake up the safe, predictable life I’ve built for myself. The internships, the schoolwork, the endless pressure to be perfect—it’s suffocating sometimes. Maybe this is the one night where I let all that go.

I glance down at the jacket he’s draped over my shoulders, then back up at him. His eyes are still locked on mine, waiting.

“I’ll go,” I whisper, my voice barely audible above the thudding bass.

He smirks, satisfied, and steps aside, motioning toward the exit. My heart is pounding as I follow him through the crowd, out of the club, and into the cool night air. The jacket feels heavier now, like a symbol of the decision I just made.

As we walk outside, I can’t help but feel a mixture of nerves and excitement bubbling up inside me. I know this is reckless. I know I’m stepping into something I can’t fully control. But as I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, I realize I don’t want control tonight.

The taxi pulls up to the curb, and I slide in beside him. The space between us feels charged, my pulse quickening with every second that passes. The club fades behind us as the city lights stream by, and I realize that I’m doing something I’ve never done before—something impulsive, unpredictable. I’m not sure what’s going to happen next, but oddly enough, that excites me.

“So,” he starts, glancing at me with a small smile. “You got a name?”

“Jennifer,” I reply, feeling a little more at ease. “You?”

“Timur,” he says smoothly, his deep voice making the name sound even more exotic than it already is. He’s not looking at me, but I can feel the weight of his presence next to me, like a gravitational pull that’s hard to resist. There’s a moment of silence, and I fumble for something to say.

“What do you do, Timur?”

He smirks slightly, looking ahead. “A lot of things.” His answer is vague, leaving more questions in my mind than answers. It only adds to the intrigue that seems to surround him.

“A man of mystery, I see,” I say with a teasing tone, but he just raises an eyebrow at me.

“I guess you could say that.” His lips tug up at the corners, but he doesn’t elaborate. Instead, he shifts the conversation back to me. “What about you, Jennifer? What were you doing at that party?”

I shrug, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Celebrating, I guess. I just landed an internship at Empire City Estates.”

His eyes flicker with interest. “Impressive.”

“Thanks,” I say, smiling a little. “I’ve always had an interest in real estate.”

“Good choice,” he says simply, but there’s a knowing edge to his voice that makes me wonder just how deep his ties to the world of luxury properties run.

The taxi slows as we pull up to his house. Or… mansion, really.

My eyes widen as I take in the sprawling estate in front of me. It’s modern, sleek, and undeniably luxurious. Floor-to-ceiling windows line the front of the house, offering a glimpse of the meticulously designed interior. There’s a manicured garden, with soft lighting illuminating the pathway to the front entrance.

“Wow,” I whisper, stepping out of the taxi. “This place is… incredible.”

Timur chuckles lightly beside me, clearly amused by my reaction. “Glad you approve.”

I can’t help but marvel at it. Every detail, from the architectural design to the pristine landscaping, screams wealth and power. It’s the kind of place I’d only ever seen in magazines or dreamed of one day selling.

“Is this where you live?” I ask, feeling a little out of place all of a sudden. This house, this lifestyle… it feels so far removed from the world I know.

He nods, leading me toward the entrance. “It’s home.”

I follow him inside, the door closing behind us with a soft click. The interior is just as impressive as the exterior—marble floors, grand staircases, and an open-plan living area that seems to stretch on forever. I notice abstract art hanging on the walls, along with tasteful furniture that looks more expensive than anything I could ever afford. My shoes tap lightly on the polished floors as I take it all in.

“You must be doing pretty well for yourself,” I say, still in awe.

Before I can press him farther, he gestures toward a staircase. “Come on, I’ll show you to a room where you can change.”

He leads me upstairs, his steps confident and sure as we navigate the mansion. I’m still trying to process the fact that I’m here, in this stranger’s house—no, his mansion—when he opens a door and steps aside, letting me walk in first.

The room is immaculate. Large windows let in soft moonlight, and the bed looks like it belongs in a five-star hotel. There’s an en suite bathroom, and the whole space feels serene, like a sanctuary within the house.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Timur says, his voice softer now. “There are towels in the bathroom. I’ll get you some dry clothes.”

I glance up at him, and for a brief second, our eyes lock again. There’s something unreadable in his expression—something that makes my pulse quicken just a little.

“Thank you,” I say quietly, unsure of what else to say.

He nods once, and without another word, he leaves the room, the door closing softly behind him.

I stand there for a moment, the silence in the room wrapping around me. I’m still processing everything—the whirlwind of the night, this man who seems so… intense, and the fact that I’m standing in his house, about to change into clothes he’s picking out for me.

I should be more nervous, but strangely, I’m not. Instead, there’s a part of me that feels… intrigued. Excited, even. What am I doing? My head is spinning, but I’m here now, and there’s no turning back.

I make my way to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My dress is ruined, still sticking to my skin, but the sight of Timur’s jacket draped over me gives me pause. It feels like more than just a coat.

I step into the bathroom, letting the door click shut behind me. The space is pristine, sleek marble floors and countertops that gleam under the soft light. I catch my reflection again in the mirror, noticing the way Timur’s jacket looks almost protective, like it’s holding me together after this whirlwind of a night. I slip it off, hanging it on a hook, and peel away my ruined dress. The cold air touches my skin, sending a small shiver through me, and I turn on the shower, letting the hot water cascade down.

As I step under the spray, I try to clear my head. What am I doing here? This night has been such a blur, and now I’m standing in this luxurious bathroom, in a mansion I never imagined myself in, about to wear this stranger’s clothes. The man who, despite his intimidating demeanor, has managed to capture my full attention. I shake off the thought and focus on the warm water washing away the tension.

When I step out, I wrap myself in a soft towel, feeling the warmth seep into my skin. I see the clothes Timur left for me on the counter—a simple black T-shirt and shorts. As I slip them on, I realize how oversized they are. The T-shirt hangs down almost to my knees, and the shorts feel loose, barely hanging on to my hips. I catch my reflection again and can’t help but smile at how ridiculous I look, like a child playing dress-up in someone else’s clothes. Still, there’s something oddly comforting about it. Something… familiar, even though I don’t know him at all.

I smooth down the shirt, trying to make myself look more presentable, even though there’s no fixing the fact that I look like I’m drowning in fabric. Taking a deep breath, I open the door and step back into the hallway. As I make my way down, I spot a woman—an older maid by the looks of it—who passes me with a cold glance. Her eyes linger on my oversized clothes for a moment before she turns away, her expression indifferent, like I don’t belong here.

It makes me feel small again, and I bite my lip, pushing the uncomfortable feeling away. I hear the soft clink of silverware and follow the sound to a dining room where Timur is already seated at the table, waiting. The room is spacious, dimly lit with soft ambient lighting. The table is set beautifully with polished cutlery and crystal glasses that shimmer in the low light.

As soon as I step in, Timur’s eyes land on me. He doesn’t say anything at first, just watches me with that intense gaze of his. It makes my heart race a little, even though I try to stay composed. I walk toward the table, feeling awkward in the oversized clothes, when he finally speaks.

“You look better without all that fancy makeup on,” he says, his voice low, but there’s a hint of something in his tone, like he’s paying me a compliment but still maintaining that tough edge.

I feel my cheeks heat up, a little flattered but still unsure how to take it. “Uh, thanks… I guess?” I offer a nervous smile, feeling a little more self-conscious now that his full attention is on me.

He gestures to the chair across from him. “Sit.”

I do as he says, sliding into the seat across from him. The table is set for two, and I notice the maid from earlier lingering in the background, but she doesn’t say anything. She simply stands there, watching. It feels strange to be served like this. I’ve never been in such a formal setting before, and it only adds to the surreal nature of this night.

The food smells amazing, and my stomach growls slightly. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until now. As I start to eat, Timur watches me, his presence impossible to ignore. His gaze is heavy, but I can’t figure out if it’s curiosity or something else. He’s intimidating, for sure, but there’s also a strange pull between us—something that keeps me from feeling completely uneasy.

“You’re quiet,” he comments after a few minutes of silence.

I shrug, trying to find my voice. “I’m just… not used to this.” I motion around the room, the lavish setting, and everything that comes with it. “All of this.”

He smirks slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting just enough to give away that he’s amused. “You’ll get used to it.”

I blink, unsure of what he means by that. What does he expect to happen after tonight? I try to shake off the thought and focus on the food, trying not to overthink the entire situation.

After dinner, I glance around the room, still taking in the grandeur of it all. Every detail is impeccable, and despite the strange circumstances, I’m fascinated by the place.

“Want a tour?” Timur asks suddenly, catching me off guard.

I look up at him, surprised by the offer. “Really?”

He leans back in his chair, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You seem like you’re into this kind of thing—architecture, design. Thought you’d want to see the rest.”

He’s right. I’ve always been fascinated by luxury homes, the kind of properties I’d only ever see in magazines or in movies. Being in a place like this… it’s like living inside one of those dreams.

“I’d love that,” I say, feeling a spark of excitement at the idea. This place is like a maze of secrets, and part of me can’t wait to explore it.

Timur stands up, motioning for me to follow. “Come on. Let’s see if I can impress you even more.”

As I follow him out of the dining room, I can’t help but wonder if this night is about to get even more unexpected.