Chapter 2 Her First Time

For two long years, Nicholas had completely ignored Alison's existence, and the resentment that had simmered within her had now reached a boiling point. The opportunity to strike back was finally in her grasp, and she didn't hesitate to seize it.

Sure enough, the second the last word left her lips, a wave of vindictive satisfaction washed over her.

"Are you asking for trouble?" The cool, unshakable facade Nicholas had so carefully maintained cracked, allowing a sliver of his true emotions to seep through. But the next second, a chilling aura radiating from him sent shivers down her spine.

Without warning, Nicholas lunged, his hand clamping around Alison's wrist like a vice, and in one swift motion, he pinned her against the wall.

The force of his actions sent her bathrobe slipping from her shoulder. With her bare curves exposed, it was a sight that left nothing to the imagination, and the sudden rush of vulnerability stirred something primal in Nicholas.

His heartbeat thundered in his chest, betraying the control he prided himself on. A deep frown etched itself onto his face as he tore his gaze away from her, forcing himself to focus. "Put your clothes back on," he commanded, his voice a strained growl.

But Alison wasn't done playing with fire.

Ignoring his order, she pressed closer, rising onto her tiptoes so her breath could wash across his ear. "Did you enjoy last night?"

After all, this man had kept her up for hours, venting his desires.

Nicholas' eyes narrowed, his intense gaze locking onto hers, searching for any hint of weakness.

Last night, when the woman before him had thrown herself at him, he had surprised his own self by not pushing her away.

Her beauty was undeniable-an intoxicating blend of innocence and allure that ensnared men without effort, those beguiling eyes daring him to make the next move.

But her good looks didn't give her the right to be so defiant.

With that thought, Nicholas tightened his grip on her wrist. "If you have a death wish, keep pushing me," he growled, the threat in his voice unmistakable.

Yet Alison met his gaze head-on, a fearless spark dancing in her eyes as she parted her lips. "I'm afraid you're the one who can't handle it, sir."

Just as the tension between them reached a fever pitch, the shrill ring of a phone shattered the moment. Nicholas' eyes flicked toward the source of the noise, his jaw tightening with frustration. He released her with a huff and turned away, stepping out to take the call on the balcony.

As he moved, he grabbed a robe, draping it over his shoulders. The neckline fell open just enough to reveal the hard lines of his chest.

There was no denying it-Nicholas' physique was nothing short of perfection. Every inch of him screamed raw masculinity.

Alison listened quietly as his voice took on a sharp, icy edge. "Yes, I've made up my mind. I promised Grandfather two years, and that time is up."

After a while, he added, "Don't concern yourself with it. There's no need for me to meet her. I'll handle it. She should have received the divorce agreement by now."

Alison's expression slowly hardened, and she tore her gaze away from him to get dressed.

So, her suspicions had been correct-Nicholas had returned for a divorce.

She couldn't help but wonder how he would react if he discovered that she was the wife he had never met. His reaction would undoubtedly be something to savor.

For a moment, she considered revealing herself then and there, just to see the look on his face. But on second thought, it would be far more entertaining to let him discover the truth when they got their divorce.

With a final glance around the room, Alison gathered her belongings and slipped out quietly. She might as well consider it a free night with a man who was, in every sense, top-tier.

Minutes later, Nicholas ended his call and returned to the room, his eyes scanning the now-empty space.

His gaze settled on the bed, where a vivid red stain marred the center of the pristine sheets.

So, it was her first time? The thought intrigued him.

Her demeanor had been anything but shy. In fact, she had been unexpectedly bold. Did she know who he was?

As the question lingered, Nicholas' fingers idly traced the rim of his glass, a sardonic smile curling his lips. Perhaps they would meet again.

Outside the hotel, Alison's phone buzzed incessantly. She glanced at the screen and frowned when she saw the caller ID-her mother, Amy Powell.

A cold shiver ran down her spine as she put two and two together.

Last night's drugging hadn't been a mere accident; someone had deliberately orchestrated it, meticulously setting the stage for her to end up in bed with Nicholas.