Chapter 3 The Unexpected Contact.

Riley's POV:

Few hours later, I was staring at my reflection, barely recognizing the woman staring back at me.

Smoky eyes, hair falling in soft waves, the red dress clinging to my figure like second skin, as if it was made for this exact night.

"Damn," I whispered.

Aria appeared behind me, lipstick in hand. Dressed to ten as well.

"Now say it like you mean it."

"I look hot."

"Hotter than Celeste in a house fire," she winked, offering a high five. "Let's go."

We laughed out loudly as we strolled out from my apartment.

****

At the Club:

Velvet Room was not just a name, it was a fantasy. Dark floors, chandeliers dripping with crystals, and music that crawled under your skin in the best way.

We walked in like we belonged there, Aria's heels clicking with purpose, my heart thudding like it hadn't since... before everything.

The waiter led us to a booth tucked at the edge of the main lounge, private enough to breathe, close enough to the music to feel it vibrate through the floor.

"What's your poison tonight?" Aria asked, scanning the cocktail list.

"Anything strong," I replied. "Anything that will makes me forget Eric and Celeste ever existed." I replied.

"Coming right up," she said, flagging the bartender. "Two Velvet Reds. Extra shots."

We clinked glasses as the bass dropped, and for a fleeting moment, the pain blurred with the lights, music, and Aria's laughter.

"You are glowing again girl," she said, leaning in with a droopy eyes.

I smiled faintly, but something in my stomach churned. I let out a slight grimace, but as usual nothing passes the inquisitive eyes of my bestfriend.

"Hey," Aria said. "You good?"

"Yeah," I nodded slowly. "I think the drink is stronger than I thought."

She squinted at me. "Want water? We can step out...

"No, I just need to freshen up. Restroom?"

She pointed toward the hallway to the left. I slid out of the booth gently, legs a bit heavier than they should be, the club lights starting to swirl a little too smoothly.

I did not even finish half of the glass...

********

In the Restroom:

I splashed cold water on my face, and I gripped the sink as if the marble was the only thing tethering me to reality.

My vision swam, my heart raced, and a strange heat curled inside my chest, twisting lower.

Something is wrong .

I stumbled out of the restroom, panic clawing through my fog. The lights blurred, the music thundered, and I couldn't find Aria.

I turned and collided with something solid.

No... someone.

Strong arms caught me, and my hands instinctively curled into his expensive jacket.

A man.

Tall, sharp, cold eyes like polished steel.

My body betrayed me, leaning into his warmth as though he is the only cure to whatever I'm feeling right now. I caught his scent, dark, expensive and warm. It wrapped around me like a shield.

"You are not okay," he said, voice so deep and smooth.

"I... I don't know what's happening," I whispered, my voice trembling

His arms tightened just slightly, steadying me. "Come with me."

And for a terrifying moment, I did.

********

Michael's POV

The room was buzzing with artificial laughter and clinking glasses. A soft jazz track played in the background while the waitstaff moved between tables, filling glasses with aged whiskey and pouring flattery into egos that didn't need inflating.

Michael Gray sat at the head of the long private table in the VIP lounge of Velvet Room, legs crossed, fingers steepled, with an unreadable gaze.

Across from him sat Richard Langford, a long-time business associate with a chronic habit of subtle manipulation. Beside him, his daughter Clarisse, radiant in her designer dress and strategic smiles.

"I believe the synergy between our families can become stronger," Richard said, pushing a glass of Macallan toward me. "We don't just want a merger, Michael, we want unity, loyalty and shared... values."

Clarisse batted her lashes in agreement.

Michael's jaw tensed slightly. He wasn't naïve. The dinner, the private setting, the flirty glances, this wasn't just about corporate alliances.

It was matchmaking.

And he had no interest in being anyone's groom.

He offered a polite nod, picked up the glass, and took a slow sip.

Something was wrong

His chest felt tight

His gut twisted

His thought refused to settle.

"Excuse me," he said suddenly, standing with the grace of a man used to control. "I need to step away."

He walked off without waiting for acknowledgment, slipping into the dim lighted hallway, stroding towards the restroom. His heart was thudding erratically now. His skin tingled under his tailored shirt. The heat that surged through his bloodstream was unfamiliar.

There was more to this than just alcohol.

Something was wrong.

The restroom door clicked shut behind him, and Michael leaned over the sink, splashing cold water on his face, gripping the counter as if it were the only solid thing in the world.

"His vision blurred, chest tightened, and his body pulsed with something raw, something unnatural.

What the hell did they put in that drink?

Just then, the door creaked open behind him.

He turned, and saw her.

A beautiful woman, looking so disoriented, eyes wide, her breathing uneven. Her long legs faltered as she reached out, trying to grab anything to steady herself.

He stepped forward just as she stumbled.

Their bodies met in a collision of heat and confusion.

Her words came out shaky, like she was trying to steady herself. 'I... I don't feel right.

Neither do I.

He felt the same way, but he did not say anything.

She clutched his jacket, holding on like she needed the ground to stop spinning. Her body leaned into his, almost pressing against him, yet it felt strangely familiar, as if they'd done this before without ever meeting.

The room spun, the air thick with heat, and her scent clung to him, vanilla and citrus, something that whispered of desire.

"I need to go," she muttered.

"I will take you," Michael said soffly.

He had no idea who she was.

There was no time for questions.

All he knew was that he needed to get her out of there, and she went with him."

Meanwhile...

Back at the table, Richard Langford checked his watch, then whispered something to Clarisse.

She rolled her eyes.

"He is been gone for nearly fifteen minutes," she explained.

"Maybe he needed air," Richard suggested. "I will check."

They both made their way towards the restroom corridor.

"Michael?" Richard called out, knocking on the door, then pushing it open.

It was empty, without even a trace of water on the sink.

Confused, they turned around and caught a waiter passing by.

"Excuse me," Richard asked. "Did you see the man who was at our table? Michael Gray?"

The waiter paused. "Yes, sir. He left about ten minutes ago... with a lady."

Clarisse's smile vanished.

Richard's brows lifted slightly, masking the flicker of frustration beneath practiced calm.

"Well," he said, straightening his tie. "That was... unexpected."

Clarisse narrowed her eyes toward the exit.

And the night suddenly got interesting.