Leading Us

1. The encounter

Chapter One: The Encounter

Maya Sinclair hated the rain. It clung to her like an unwelcome lover, soaking through her thin blouse and making her heels dangerously slippery against the wet pavement. She cursed under her breath as she struggled with her umbrella, the wind determined to turn it inside out. Typical Monday, she thought, stepping into the warmth of the hotel lobby with a sigh of relief.

The rain might have been miserable, but the evening ahead promised to be anything but. Maya had been invited to a high-profile charity gala—a night where the city's elite would rub shoulders and exchange polite smiles over champagne flutes. It was her first event of this calibre, and she was determined to make an impression. As an up-and-coming artist, this was her chance to make connections that could propel her career to the next level.

She approached the check-in desk, brushing a strand of damp hair from her face, and gave the receptionist her name. The woman’s practised smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of something Maya couldn’t quite place before she recovered.

"Ms. Sinclair, welcome. We have your suite ready for you. I’ll have someone bring up your luggage. And… here’s your invitation to the gala," the receptionist said, handing her a sleek black envelope with a gold-embossed seal.

"Thank you," Maya replied, feeling the weight of the night ahead settle on her shoulders. She took the envelope and turned towards the elevators, her mind already racing with anticipation.

As the elevator doors closed, she leaned back against the mirrored wall, letting herself relax for a moment. The soft hum of the elevator was a welcome break from the chaos of the day, and she closed her eyes, savouring the quiet. Her thoughts drifted to the guest list for the evening—wealthy patrons, influential critics, and one name in particular that made her pulse quicken: Adrian Blackwood.

Adrian was a notorious figure in the art world—a billionaire with a penchant for discovering new talent and a reputation that preceded him in every room he entered. He was as ruthless as he was charming, with a gaze that could cut through the pretence of any socialite or artist. Maya had seen pictures of him in magazines and online—his dark, tousled hair, the chiselled jawline, and those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see straight into a person’s soul. He was older, refined, and devastatingly attractive. And tonight, she might finally meet him.

The elevator dinged softly, and Maya stepped out, her heart pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement. She headed down the plush-carpeted hallway to her suite, the sound of her heels muffled as she walked. As she reached her door, she fumbled with the key card, her thoughts still on Adrian. What would he be like in person? Would he even notice her in the crowd?

She pushed the door open and stepped inside, instantly hit by the scent of fresh flowers and the sight of a luxuriously appointed room. A bottle of champagne sat chilling in a bucket on the coffee table, and a handwritten note lay beside it.

Curious, Maya picked up the note, her eyes skimming over the elegant script. *Looking forward to seeing you tonight. – A.B.*

Her breath caught. Adrian Blackwood. It had to be.

Before she could fully process the implications, a soft knock echoed through the suite, startling her. Maya placed the note down carefully and walked to the door, her mind racing. Had something been forgotten? A mix-up with her luggage, perhaps?

She opened the door and froze.

Standing in the doorway was the man himself, Adrian Blackwood. Taller than she imagined, his presence dominated the space. His tailored suit clung to his broad shoulders, and those impossibly blue eyes met hers with an intensity that made her forget how to breathe. He smiled—a slow, predatory curve of his lips that sent a thrill down her spine.

"Maya Sinclair," he said, his voice a smooth, deep baritone that made her name sound like a promise. "I hope you don’t mind the intrusion."

For a moment, she was too stunned to respond. Up close, he was even more devastating than in his photos. Every detail about him was sharp, perfectly crafted. She wondered briefly how many women had fallen under his spell.

Finally, she found her voice. "Mr. Blackwood… I—what are you doing here?"

He stepped closer, crossing the threshold with confidence that suggested he always got what he wanted. The door clicked shut behind him, and Maya’s heart raced in her chest.

"I wanted to meet the artist behind the work everyone’s been talking about," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. "But more than that, I wanted to meet the woman behind the art."

Maya felt her cheeks heat under his gaze, a flush spreading through her body. She had never been one to be easily intimidated, but Adrian’s proximity, the way he looked at her like she was something he could devour—it made her pulse quicken in ways she hadn’t expected.

"You could have waited until the gala," she said, trying to maintain her composure, but the quiver in her voice betrayed her.

Adrian’s smile widened, his hand reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear. His touch was electric, sending a shiver down her spine. "Patience has never been one of my virtues," he murmured. "And besides, I find I much prefer private introductions."

The air between them was thick with tension, the kind that made the world outside the suite seem distant, irrelevant. Maya swallowed hard, her mind screaming at her to regain control, to step back, to do anything other than stand there like a deer caught in headlights. But her body betrayed her, leaning subtly into his touch, craving more of the heat that radiated from him.

She knew what kind of man Adrian was—dangerous, controlling, a man who took what he wanted without asking. And yet, as he looked at her, his eyes darkening with unmistakable desire, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to let herself be swept away by the storm he promised.

He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered, "I hope you’re ready for tonight, Maya. Because I’m not the kind of man who plays it safe."

Her heart pounded in her chest, every nerve ending alive with anticipation. This was more than she had bargained for. But as his hand trailed down her arm, his fingers grazing her skin with a lightness that belied the heat in his eyes, she knew she was already lost.

She was in too deep.

And she didn’t want to be anywhere else.