⚠️ Content Warning: This chapter contains explicit scenes of a mature nature. Reader discretion is advised.
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Mia followed Lucian into his sleek, black car parked outside the venue. As the door closed behind her, she felt the luxurious leather seat beneath her, its warmth already pressing into her skin. The scent of Lucian's cologne lingered in the air—musky, with a hint of spice.
For a moment, she let herself absorb the opulence of his world. This wasn't just any car. Every detail spoke of wealth, of power, and of someone who was used to getting what he wanted. Mia herself came from money—her family was wealthy, but the environment Lucian existed in was different. It was untouchable, cloaked in mystery and raw authority.
Her fingers absent mindedly traced the intricate stitching on the seat as she tried to focus, tried to keep her mind steady. "Where are we going?" she asked, her voice breaking through the silence.
Lucian looked over at her, the corner of his mouth curving upward. "Somewhere quiet," he replied, his voice smooth and deliberate. "Somewhere we won't be interrupted."
The intensity in his words made her stomach flip. She was entering dangerous territory. Mia was no stranger to men vying for her attention, but none had been like Lucian. His presence was commanding, suffocating in the best possible way. It wasn't just his wealth; it was the way he carried it—like the world bowed to him.
She glanced out the window as the car sliced through the city streets. The skyline blurred past, the lights creating a dazzling backdrop. Mia found herself lost in thought, wondering how she had ended up here, in this car, with this man whose gaze could melt her resolve.
Before long, they arrived at an impossibly tall building. The car stopped in front of a private elevator entrance, and Mia's pulse quickened. She had seen places like this before—buildings only the ultra-rich had access to, where privacy was guaranteed, and discretion was the unspoken rule.
Lucian stepped out of the car and circled to her side, opening her door with the same deliberate care as before. He extended his hand, and after a moment's hesitation, she placed her palm in his. His grip was firm, reassuring, as if to say, I have you now.
Inside the elevator, they stood in silence as the doors closed, sealing them in together. Mia could feel the weight of his presence beside her, his eyes on her even as he remained still. The tension was palpable, the air charged with the unspoken.
"I didn't expect this tonight," she finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She wasn't sure what she was referring to—the pull between them or the speed at which everything was happening.
