Chapter 3 Discovery

Dante's POV

I woke up to an empty bed.

The spot beside me was cold, her scent already fading into the expensive sheets. She was gone.

A sigh escaped me as I ran a hand through my messy hair, sitting up slowly. I should've expected it-but the sting of disappointment hit harder than I'd like to admit.

The girl from the bar... I hadn't even asked her name.

But I remembered her tears. The way her voice shook when she mumbled about betrayal-something about her fiancé and her best friend. She'd been heartbroken, drowning her pain in cheap liquor and reckless choices.

I brought her here thinking I'd just let her sleep it off. But then... she kissed me. And when she started undressing, Damn, that body, I tried. I really did.

But the way she looked at me like I was her escape... my control slipped. And I gave in. It was a wonderful night.

I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, staring blankly at the floor.

It wasn't supposed to mean anything. Just one night. One mistake.

But now that she was gone, I couldn't shake the feeling that I wanted to know more. Her name. Her story. Her laugh. Something.

I reached over to the hotel telephone and hit the front desk.

"Good morning, sir," the receptionist chirped.

I cut her off. "How long since the woman from my room left?"

There was a brief pause. "About twenty minutes ago, sir."

"Thanks." I dropped the receiver and let out a frustrated groan, tossing my phone onto the bed.

Too late.

I pulled myself together. I had a company to run. No time to go chasing after a mysterious one-night stand-no matter how stunning she was.

Then my phone lit up.

Cassie.

Of course.

I hesitated, then picked up. "Yeah?"

"Hi, baby," came her sugar-sweet voice. "Where are you? I missed you last night."

I forced a low chuckle, though the guilt was beginning to creep in. And just like that, the memory of last night's girl flashed in my mind again-her lips, her tears, her heat.

"Where are you?" I deflected.

"At home. Waiting for you." She giggled softly. "Don't you miss me?"

I exhaled and looked away from the bed.

"I've got work. I'll talk to you later."

Before she could reply, I ended the call.

I stood, letting the sheet fall off my waist. The floor-to-ceiling windows gave me a full view of the city-the empire I'd built.

This was my hotel. My life. My rules.

But for the first time in a long time, I wasn't so sure I was in control anymore.

At work, I tried to work.

Tried to focus on the files spread out in front of me, the numbers on my screen, the calls waiting to be returned. But it was useless. My mind kept drifting-back to her.

The girl with stormy eyes and trembling lips.

The one who cried in my arms before she begged me to make her forget.

And I did. All night long.

I clenched my jaw and sat back in my leather chair, fingers tapping restlessly on the armrest. I could track her down. It wouldn't be hard. Security footage, the Uber drop-off logs, even the card she used at the bar.

But just as fast as the thought came, another one followed.

Cassie.

My fiancée. The woman I was supposed to marry in a few months.

She was still here-in my world, in my space, in my life.

If she found out I'd cheated on her-even if it was just a drunken one-night stand with a heartbroken stranger-it would blow everything up. My carefully curated image, my engagement, and maybe even my business.

The risk wasn't worth it.

I exhaled and pushed away from the desk, scrubbing my face with both hands.

I had to let her go. Forget the soft moans, the desperate kisses, the way she clung to me like I was the only solid thing in her crumbling world.

It didn't matter now.

She was a ghost. A mistake. A moment I should never revisit.

I was Dante Nikolai

And one-night stands didn't get second chances.

****

Anora's POV

Weeks had passed, and I was slowly piecing my life back together. The pain, the betrayal, the anger-they no longer suffocated me the way they once did. I had almost managed to forget about Ethan, about Debbie, even about the stranger from that drunken, reckless night.

I was moving on... or so I thought.

Until I started feeling sick.

At first, I brushed it off. Just fatigue, I told myself. A little dizziness, a few headaches-no big deal. But then came the nausea. The fever. The moment I threw up in public, I knew something was terribly wrong.

That was when the terrifying thought crept in.

What if I was pregnant?

The idea clung to me like a shadow I couldn't shake. I ran to the nearest pharmacy and bought a pregnancy test, my hands trembling the entire time. Back at home, I locked myself in the bathroom and took the test, staring at it like it held the power to destroy my world.

Two lines.

Two bold, undeniable lines.

I froze, my breath caught in my throat. The world around me blurred as a wave of panic and disbelief crashed into me.

I was pregnant.

Tears sprang to my eyes, unbidden, blurring my vision as I clutched the test in trembling fingers. This couldn't be happening. How could one stupid night spiral into something so life-changing?

I collapsed onto the bathroom floor and sobbed, the realization cutting deeper than any betrayal had. This was real. There was no taking it back. I had no one to blame but myself.

But as the tears slowed, something shifted. I looked down at the test again, this time not with fear-but with resolve.

I couldn't kill the child.

Whatever happened, this baby was a part of me now. I would carry it. I would raise it. Alone, if I had to.

Then came another wave of dread. My parents.

What would I tell them? How would they react? I had to be the one to tell them-before they found out on their own. Because secrets only made everything worse. I knew that too well now.