"So what's an angel like you doing all alone?"
A smooth, melodic voice echoed just inches from my ear, sending a shiver rippling through my entire body.
🧖♂️Kane's POV🧖♂️
After closing the deal in Japan in just a few days, I decide to celebrate the way I usually do when boredom starts creeping in. I could call Kassandra, or maybe Blaire… wait, Blaire's in France for a fashion show. Kassandra, though still incredibly attractive, hasn't really kept my interest lately. She just doesn't have the same spark that first caught my attention.
I need a new toy.
Something different. Fresh. Attractive enough to keep me interested for more than just a single night. That doesn't mean I've lost appreciation for the classics—long legs, perfect curves sculpted by diets and plastic surgery—but they don't excite me the way they used to. I just want something that'll light a fire in me again… something more than predictable.
At eleven o'clock, I could easily find at least twenty women in my contacts willing to meet me in under five minutes. But not tonight. Tonight, I want something new. And I know exactly where to find it.
At the bars I usually frequent, you can always find beautiful, stylish women—real sirens, magnetic and calculated. But they all want something I'm not willing to give:
A relationship.
I'm not ready to settle down. I love my bachelor life far too much. And when I do decide to get married, it sure as hell won't be to one of these clingy gold diggers who orbit me like moths to a flame. And trust me, there are plenty of them. What woman wouldn't give her right arm for an engagement ring from billionaire Kane Cross?
The limousine pulls up in front of a bar I haven't hunted in for a while, and I smile in satisfaction when I see it's packed. No doubt, on a Saturday night like this, the place is swarming with single women looking for a night of passion with anyone willing.
As I step inside, every eye turns to me. Men stare in disbelief. Women, in desire and silent gratitude.
I'm used to it.
Who doesn't know Kane Cross? One of the world's youngest billionaires, CEO of one of the most powerful global corporations, infamous for intense and short-lived affairs.
I scan the room with a slow, deliberate gaze. There are a few acceptable options—nothing mind-blowing, but I could always fall back on my contact list if the night turns dull.
But then—on a second glance—my eyes lock onto a silhouette by the bar. A red dress—confident, fiery. Long chocolate-brown hair cascading in soft waves down her back.And those legs—endless legs—balanced effortlessly on a pair of black stilettos.
Not a bad option at all.
But it seems I'm not the only one who's fallen under the spell of the mysterious goddess in red.
Every man in this place watches her like she's the next course on the menu—devouring her with their eyes, licking their lips like rabid dogs every time she lazily crosses her legs, unknowingly revealing more of her sinfully perfect thighs. There's something almost innocent about her—oddly enough—even in that dress. Like a lamb tossed into a den of wolves. But what's truly surprising is how utterly unaffected she seems by the attention.
The way her delicate fingers trace the rim of her glass in slow, elegant movements only fuels my hunger to uncover what lies behind that seductive mask of innocence.
Target acquired.
Without hesitation, I make my way toward her, confidence in every step, eyes locked on the exquisite creature sipping her cocktail like she's got all the time in the world.
"So what's an angel like you doing all alone?"
I flash her my most irresistible smile, letting my gaze take in her face for the first time.
And then—I lose my breath.
She lifts her face toward me, and those eyes—huge, green, framed by long, curled lashes—meet mine with a mixture of surprise and confusion. Porcelain skin I can already imagine under my fingertips. Full, red lips that promise a fire yet to be awakened by the right kind of kiss.
💃Jessa's POV 💃
Holy crap! I must've had too much to drink and now I'm hallucinating.
There's no other explanation for why a man this gorgeous would call me an "angel."
I get completely lost in those eyes—blue like I've never seen before—and that million-dollar smile. My heart's pounding so loud I swear it's echoing in my ears, and my whole body heats up as I scan every flawless inch of his sculpted face.
If this is a dream, I don't ever want to wake up. He puts Ryan Gosling and Adam Levine to shame. And that voice…
It sends a shiver down my spine, tickling my ears in the most dangerously delightful way.
Way too dangerous.
"Get a grip already! The guy's looking at you like you've lost your mind," my inner voice screams, snapping me back to reality.
I realize my jaw is practically on the floor and manage to shut it, blinking like a deer caught in headlights.
"Uh… I—I don't really know," I stammer, still shocked and completely thrown by the situation.
"Well, from what I can tell, it looks like you're having a party for one," he chuckles, motioning toward the empty glasses in front of me—mocking reminders of just how pathetic I must look right now.
"I don't want to talk about it," I snap, forgetting my earlier shyness.
He just had to go and remind me why I'm sitting alone in a bar, drowning my misery in alcohol like some cliché rom-com disaster.
But honestly, my judgment's already a little fuzzy from all the drinks, so guilt isn't really on the menu anymore. As shocking as it sounds, I'm actually glad I chose to come here and distract myself from the pain, instead of sitting at home under the pitying eyes of well-meaning people.
"Champagne, here," he signals to the bartender without hesitation, flashing me another one of those smiles that sends little sparks racing up my spine.
"What are you doing? I don't want to drink with you," I push the freshly filled glass back toward the bartender, refusing.
I've already had way more than I planned. At this point, the only thing I should be doing is calling a taxi and getting my butt home before I do something even stupider. Even I don't know what I'm capable of right now… and I don't want to find out.
He looks slightly caught off guard by my blunt rejection, but recovers quickly, leaning in close—too close—his breath brushing against my cheek like fire.
God, that feels… incredible. This guy is stirring up desires I didn't even know existed. Like how I suddenly want to lean in and catch the scent of his cologne, or run my fingers through that silky hair of his. Please let it just be the alcohol talking.
"Please?" he grins with a falsely innocent expression. "Just one glass," he says, far too self-satisfied, handing me the drink without waiting for my answer.
"It's a big night for me, and it would be a real honor to have you celebrate with me."
I arch a skeptical eyebrow, still unsure.
An insanely attractive stranger, in a bar I've never been to before, inviting me for a midnight drink?
Well… what do I have to lose?