The city lights flickered below Noah's penthouse, tiny specks of gold scattered across the dark expanse. From the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, the skyline seemed almost peaceful—almost.
But inside the penthouse, a dangerous storm was brewing.
Noah stood by the sleek marble bar, his grip tight around the glass of whiskey. His knuckles whitened as he stared into the amber liquid, but his mind was elsewhere.
On her.
Elena Carter.
Liar. Deceiver. Temptress.
The images from Logan's latest report flashed in his mind—photos of Elena with Vincent Alvarez. A man he despised. A man he wanted dead.
And she was working for him.
He exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening.
Yet, despite the anger clawing at his chest, he couldn't get the taste of her lips out of his mouth—the faint sweetness that still lingered. His fingers brushed over his lower lip, remembering the way she had trembled in his arms the night before.
He knew she was playing him.
And still, he couldn't stop himself from wanting her.
His eyes narrowed.
"Careful, Elena. You're walking on a blade."
---
Meanwhile – Elena's Hotel Room
Elena sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the unlit screen of her phone. Her fingers shook slightly as she ran them through her hair, the memories of Noah's kiss still clinging to her skin like a brand.
She could still feel his hands on her—rough, possessive, and devastatingly gentle all at once. Her lips still tingled from the way he had devoured her, made her forget everything.
Even who she was.
But the brutal reality came crashing back as soon as she glanced at the tiny bruise forming on her wrist—the mark of his unrelenting grip. The same hands that had traced her spine with delicate caresses could also crush her in an instant.
Her phone buzzed.
She stiffened.
A message.
Vincent: "Tomorrow. 9 p.m. The warehouse. Bring the file. No excuses."
Her throat tightened.
The file.
The one she was supposed to steal from Noah's office.
Her fingers curled into the sheets.
She was running out of time.
But the thought of betraying Noah now made her stomach twist with something far more dangerous than guilt.
You can't fall for him.
You know what he's capable of.
Her eyes stung, but she quickly wiped away the emotion before it could take root. She couldn't afford to be weak. Not now.
--
The Next Evening – Noah's Penthouse
Elena stepped out of the black sedan, her stiletto heels tapping lightly against the pavement. The black satin dress she wore clung to her like a second skin, its dangerously low neckline making her already fragile resolve waver.
She knew she was walking into the lion's den.
And tonight, she had no escape plan.
As she entered the penthouse, her eyes instantly locked with Noah's.
He stood by the bar, his black shirt unbuttoned at the top, the sleeves casually rolled up his forearms, revealing the dark veins running along his tensed muscles.
A vision of raw power and dangerous elegance.
But his eyes…
They were darker than she had ever seen them.
Cold. Calculating.
Deadly.
And yet, when he saw her, something shifted.
The cruel edge in his gaze softened—just for a second—before disappearing behind the mask of indifference.
"Elena," he drawled smoothly, his voice low and lethal. "You're late."
She swallowed hard, keeping her tone light.
"I wasn't aware this was a timed meeting."
His eyes gleamed with amusement, but there was no warmth in them.
"Everything with me is timed."
Before she could respond, he reached for her hand. His fingers curled around hers—firm, unyielding. And just like that, she knew she was already caught in his snare.
He led her toward the lounge area, but before they could sit, he suddenly pulled her back—her body colliding with his chest.
The breath left her lungs.
She was about to protest, but his mouth was already on hers.
Fierce. Brutal. Unforgiving.
He kissed her like he was trying to destroy her.
And maybe he was.
Her hands fisted into his shirt, clinging to him even as she knew she should push him away.
But she didn't.
Instead, she surrendered.
Her lips parted for him, and she let him devour her with a hunger that bordered on desperation. His hands slid down her back, molding her against him, making her dizzy with every touch.
He bit down on her lower lip, drawing a gasp from her.
She felt his smirk against her mouth.
He liked it.
When he finally pulled back, they were both breathing heavily, their lips swollen and bruised.
But the fire in Noah's eyes hadn't dimmed.
If anything, it had blazed hotter.
"Elena…" His voice was low, like gravel and silk.
But there was danger laced in it.
She stared up at him, her heart pounding.
"W-what?"
Without warning, his grip on her wrist tightened—not cruel, but firm.
Possessive.
He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear.
"I know you're lying."
Her blood turned to ice.
Her eyes widened slightly, but she quickly masked the panic with confusion.
"What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Noah's fingers trailed down the exposed skin of her back.
Slow. Lethal.
He was playing with her, like a predator toying with its prey.
"I know you're working for Vincent Alvarez," he murmured, his lips barely grazing her jawline.
"You've been lying to me since the day we met."
Her breath caught.
Her lips parted slightly, but she had no words.
Her pulse pounded so loudly in her ears, she almost didn't hear the low, dark chuckle that slipped from his throat.
"Surprised?" he taunted, his voice like velvet laced with venom.
"I told you, Elena… you shouldn't play games with a man like me."
She tried to pull away, but he didn't let her.
Instead, he slammed her against the wall, pinning her wrists above her head.
Her chest heaved, and she glared up at him, her eyes burning with defiance.
"Let me go," she hissed.
But he didn't.
Instead, he lowered his lips to her ear.
"Not yet," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin.
"Not until I'm done with you."
His hand slid down her throat, not choking, but enough to make her pulse spike.
He leaned in, his voice a dark promise.
"Are you afraid of me now?"
She stared into his eyes—cold, predatory, and merciless.
And the most terrifying part?
She wasn't afraid.
Not of him.
Her lips parted slightly, her breath warm against his.
"No," she whispered defiantly.
His eyes darkened with something far more dangerous than rage.
Lust.
Possession.
And then he kissed her again.
Harder. Fiercer.
Like he wanted to ruin her.
And she let him.
Because in that moment, they were both past the point of no return.
Both drowning in deception, danger, and desire.
---
As Noah's lips trailed down her throat, she barely noticed the subtle tug at the zipper on her dress… until she felt something slip from the hidden pocket.
Her earpiece.
The one she had forgotten to remove.
Noah pulled back slightly, the small black device clutched between his fingers.
He held it up, his eyes narrowing with lethal amusement.
Elena's heart plummeted.
Her eyes locked with his.
He smiled.
Dark. Predatory.
Cruel.
"Caught you," he whispered softly.
But it wasn't a threat.
It was a promise.
---
See you in next chapter...