Chapter 5 A NIGHT OF PASSION

Elara POV

"You're not much of a party girl, are you?" Darlington's voice slid to my ear, it was smooth, laced with amusement as he sipped from his glass. The music throbbed in the background, low and seductive, wrapping around us like velvet.

I shifted my weight, letting my eyes roam over anything that wasn't him. "Is it that obvious?"

He chuckled-a deep, easy sound that sent a pulse down my spine like someone had run ice along it. "Only to someone who doesn't belong here either."

I should've walked away then. I should've excused myself and gone back to Rachel. But something about the way he looked at me-as if he knew I wasn't just another girl in a tight dress and heels-kept me rooted. There was something familiar in his presence, and I didn't dare explore it.

We found a booth tucked away in the shadows, the strobe lights barely touching us. He ordered another round, and against my better judgment, I stayed.

Maybe it was the way the strobe lights didn't reach us, or the burn of alcohol slowly dulling my anxiety, but I started to forget how to be guarded.

Our words bounced softly between us-useless things, and yet heavy. Darlington didn't talk much, but when he did, it felt like every sentence was holding something back.

"What do you do?" he asked, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.

I paused. My fingers tightened slightly around my drink. "Healthcare."

His eyes darkened, like I had just said something personal. "Nurse? Doctor?"

I bit my lip, choosing my next words carefully. "You could say... I help people."

His silence pressed on me for a moment longer than necessary. I felt like he was peeling back my layers by just staring. So, I turned the question back on him. "And you?"

"Business, Family business." He shrugged, but there was a glint in his eye that said there was more.

The smirk on his lips made me raise a brow. "Let me guess-some kind of import/export mystery?"

He let out a chuckle, and the sound was surprisingly warm. "You guessed right."

Time slipped away unnoticed, hours melting like wax. Somewhere between the third and fourth drink, I let myself laugh. And once I started, I couldn't stop.

It felt good. Dangerous, but good.

I hadn't let myself feel like this in a long time-free, light, like the weight of secrets and guilt had temporarily lifted. Darlington wasn't just intoxicating; he was addictive. The way his eyes followed my movements, the way he listened when I spoke, it was all-consuming.

"I think I'm drunk," I admitted, leaning into the curve of the booth.

"You think?" he teased, brushing a strand of hair off my face. "You're swaying like you're dancing with ghosts."

The touch burned. My skin tingled where his fingers had been, like it remembered better than I did.

"Come on." He sliding out of the booth, offering a hand. "Let's get you out of here."

I didn't argue. Couldn't. My head was spinning, not just from the alcohol but from the way he looked at me like he wanted to devour me whole. Like he knew what I was thinking.

We slipped through the thrumming crowd, and the cold night hit my skin like a slap. A sleek black car waited at the curb.

Darlington helped me inside, and we were both engrossed in each other, or could say the alcohol was doing the emotions clicking.

The ride blurred. I didn't ask where we were going. I didn't care. All I knew was that being near him made the noise in my head quiet down.

We were in the room before I could piece things together. The door clicked shut behind us, soft and final.

"You're drunk. Get some rest, okay," his voice rumbled beside me.

I heard the words. I didn't move.

His lips crashed into mine, hot and demanding. Heat surging through my body like wildfire. His hands were rough and desperate as he gripped me with this desperate, urgent need-lifting me like I weighed nothing. I could've stopped him.

I should've.

But I didn't.

Didn't want to.

He pinned me beneath him, claiming my mouth, my skin, my breath. He was fire and steel, dominance wrapped in tailored perfection. His breath against my skin made everything else vanish.

The world vanished as he dragged the truth from my body in moans and whimpers.

He was relentless, obsessive, like he'd been starving and I was the only thing that could satisfy the hunger.

"I'm gonna claim you," he growled against my neck. "No one touches you but me."

Something twisted in my stomach. Heat coiled low inside me.

I felt warm between my legs when I heard the words.

My dress was gone, and then he was inside me, and nothing else mattered.

-----

I felt a warm strong figure behind me, when I woke up. I turned to see Darlington sleeping peacefully beside me, his arm still possessively around my waist.

I was laid tangled in silk sheets, I was naked, aching all over my body, and empty.

Fuck.

Everything rushed back, but only in pieces. Bits of heat and sound and his voice in my ear. And then-

OH MY GOD.

I HAD SEX WITH DARLINGTON. OH MY GOD.

"What the fuck happened last night," I screamed in my head as I tried to remember how I ended up on the bed with him. My skin prickled against my ribs.

But all I could remember was how I ended up in his car. The rest kept coming like a blur in my head.

I thought he wanted to drop me off in Rachel's place.

I slid out from under his arm, careful not to wake him, and stumbled to the bathroom. My reflection stared back, smeared makeup and confusion.

That was when I noticed the room.

This wasn't anyone's apartment.

It was a hotel.

A hotel... was that where he could think of taking me to?

Was that all this was to him?

Was I a whore to him?

I'm so stupid to have sat beside him to drink. What was I thinking?

A tightness formed in my chest. I didn't have time for this. For the shame. For the way my throat burned trying to hold in the scream crawling up it.

He isn't supposed to find out who I am. At least not now. More especially, the part I played in saving his life.

I peeked into the room, grabbed my clothes, and started dressing fast. My hands trembled as I glanced at him one last time.

I took one last look at his figure on the bed, and he was sleeping peacefully. I walked out.

I left without a note. Without a goodbye.

---

Darlington's POV

The sheets were cold.

I reached for her, still half-asleep, but my fingers met nothing but air.

My eyes snapped open.

She was gone.

I sat up, heart pounding with unfamiliar urgency. The scent of her body- lavender and sin- still clung to the pillows. And yet it felt empty. Wrong.

My jaw clenched as I scanned the room. No note. I immediately reached for my phone to call her.

Rings rings...

"This line does not exist. Please check the digit and try again."

What the fuck.

She gave me the wrong digit.

I was left with nothing but the imprint of her body in my bed and the echo of her soft moans in my head.

Shit.

She ran away.

"How fucking dare she," I growled low in my throat, slamming my fist into the pillow. I wasn't used to this feeling-this loss. Women didn't walk away from me. They didn't disappear into the night after I'd laid claim to them. They wouldn't dare to.

She had no idea who she was dealing with.

But she would.

I would find her.

And when I did, she wouldn't be able to run again.