Chapter 3 The One-Night Stand That Wasn't Supposed to Matter

Ariana did not plan on entering Club Silken that night.

Didn't plan on slipping into the skintight black dress that clung precariously to her body. Didn't plan on having her curls cascade down her shoulders like a seductress. Didn't plan on getting sauced on a bottle of hundred-dollar bourbon.

And yet here she was.

The bass throbbed in her arteries like a pulse, slow and deadly. Silken was New York's most clandestine after-hours club-low lights, whispered secrets, velveted booths, and darkness that devoured the depraved.

She didn't belong. Not that Ariana who had been Mrs. Thorne.

That one was dead.

She slid into a booth on the edge of the dance floor, gaze scanning the room with a hollow kind of detachment. She wasn't looking for anyone. Not really. She just needed to escape the noise, escape the burn of liquor, escape something that brought her mind back to Dominic's cold fingers or the silence between them in the dark.

She sipped from her drink.

One became two.

Two became four.

And then she felt him.

The presence.

Like gravity-sudden, inexorable.

A man eased into the booth across from her. Tall. Dark hair. Stubble flickering on his sharp jaw. Black button-down shirt, rolled sleeves to the elbows, tattoos visible under the fabric. And the eyes-amber and unforgiving-homing in on her as if they already knew all her secrets she was desperate to keep hidden.

"Didn't think you were the kind to drink alone," he said.

Ariana raised an eyebrow. "And you can figure that out from what? My earrings?"

He grinned. Slow. Sinful.

"No. From the way you've been pretending not to stare at me for the past ten minutes."

Caught.

She raised her glass in a toast. "Well played. You win... whatever this is."

He moved closer, his voice low. "It could be whatever you want it to be."

Danger.

She recognized it instantly.

Not the type that jeopardized her health-but the type that invited her toward something treacherous. The type that offered escape.

She should have refused.

Should have finished the rest of her drink, stepped out of the club, and gone home to cry into silk sheets and hope otherwise.

But she was tired of "should."

"What is your name?" she asked.

"Leo."

He didn't ask for hers.

Didn't need it.

Because this wasn't about names.

Wasn't about who she was.

It was about forgetting that she'd ever existed.

---

They didn't even make it home.

The Ritz elevator was half-empty. She'd hardly stepped out when his mouth was on hers-hot, desperate, burning with fire that scorched all the way past the ache in her chest.

His arms circled her waist, slipped under the hem of her skirt. She swallowed at the kiss, her fingers in his hair. It'd been too long since someone'd treated her like he *wanted* to.

Like she was visible.

Doors opened and shut. They stumbled back to his bedroom.

She didn't know how many.

Didn't remember.

The next thing she knew, she was crashing into the bed, and Leo was stripping her out of the black silk like some slowly unwrapped present-and then devoured.

"You sure?" he growled, voice raw, lips against her collarbone.

Ariana's response was little more than a breath.

"Yes."

---

It was going to be just sex.

But when his body crashed against hers-hot, hard, unrelenting-she felt something deeper shatter.

Leo didn't rush.

Didn't stumble or falter.

He stroked her as if he already knew where it hurt her the most. Kissed her as if he was trying to erase all of Dominic's wounds.

And when he pushed into her, slow and deep, she gasped-because it wasn't just pleasure.

It was pain, too.

Pain of being touched after being ignored.

Of being seen after being unseen.

Of being wanted after being thrown away.

She screamed, not just at how he moved, but at everything that had been locked inside her.

He didn't slow.

Kissed her through it.

Treated her as if she wouldn't break.

And when she finally came-trembling, gulping, eyes locked with his-something snapped.

---

Morning sun filtered through the curtains in pale gold.

Ariana stirred, sheets tangled around her naked legs. The scent of sex and bourbon clung to her body.

Leo was gone.

She should have felt relief.

Instead, she felt hollow.

No note.

No number.

No awkward goodbyes.

Just space.

She dressed slowly, on purpose. Put her hair in a ponytail. Her hands trembled a little as she looked at herself in the mirror.

Last night hadn't been a mistake.

It had been a release.

But it hadn't fixed anything.

Not really.

---

Dominic stood in the penthouse kitchen, his jaw clenched, coffee untouched. He hadn't slept.

Not since she gave him the papers.

Not since she'd stood him up, gazed straight into his eyes and told him she was through.

But something deeper twisted within him now.

Jealousy.

Fear.

Loss.

He'd messed up. He'd attempted to drive her away and she'd still remain. He'd expected her to *always* be there.

But the woman he saw gazing back at him across the room-she wasn't his.

And now?

Now he couldn't help but wonder who was touching her now.

His phone rang.

He picked it up.

**Cass:** Heard your wife finally developed a backbone. You alright, Dom?

He glared at the screen.

Then he tossed the phone against the wall so violently it cracked like a gunshot.

Because no-he wasn't all right.

He was unraveling.

---

Two days later, Ariana sat in the office of her OB-GYN, tapping her fingers restlessly on the armrest.

She hadn't planned on coming in.

She just... needed to verify that everything was okay.

That the nausea wasn't anything else.

The doctor smiled warmly, scanning through her chart. "So, Ariana... I hear you're here due to some irregular symptoms?"

"Just nausea. And I've been tired. I don't know. I thought I'd check."

The doctor nodded, reassuring. "Let's do a quick test, just to rule anything out."

Ten minutes passed.

The nurse came back.

Ariana's stomach fell at the expression on her face.

Soft. Careful.

"Ariana," the nurse said softly, "you're pregnant."

The world came to a standstill.

The words were shouted like thunder.

She opened her mouth. Closed it.

Pregnant?

"But I-my husband and I... we haven't-"

Her voice broke.

The nurse grinned at her. "Do you have any guess how far along you are?"

Ariana's mind went blank.

Couldn't talk.

Her mind was spinning.

Dominic.

Or Leo.

Had no idea.

And then. everything was changed.