Chapter 3 The One Night Stand

David's POV

The host greeted me with the deference I had come to expect, stepping forward with a practiced smile and presenting a bouquet of pristine white lilies. The flashbulbs from the photographers caught the flowers' delicate petals, but they were meant for me. After all, I wasn't just another guest at the charity gala-I was the guest.

David Lexington. The richest man in New York City.

At the mention of my name, industries recalibrated their futures. Stocks shifted. CEOs and senators aligned themselves to my vision because they understood the simple truth-New York City was my kingdom, and I was its king.

The grand ballroom glittered under a constellation of chandeliers, every facet of crystal scattering the light like shards of stars. The air was thick with the scent of perfume, expensive whiskey, and the quiet tension of power plays. I moved through the crowd with deliberate ease, shaking hands with presidents of corporations, exchanging clipped pleasantries with governors.

Some asked for advice. Others hinted at partnerships. I made promises I would keep only if they benefited me.

I donated ten trillion dollars to a set of "upcoming projects," because it would appear in the press and solidify my influence in circles where influence was the only currency that mattered.

But my mind was elsewhere.

She had caught my attention.

Across the room, framed by the soft glow of golden light, was the most exquisite woman I had ever seen. She wasn't draped over a man's arm or vying for attention like so many others. She stood slightly apart, champagne flute in hand, humming softly to the orchestra's melody as though she belonged to a world far removed from the scheming and greed around her.

Her beauty was... disarming. It was a kind of beauty that didn't shout-it whispered.

I continued my rounds, allowing the city's elite women to press against me with their sugared voices and too-bright laughter. Their perfumes clung like smoke, cloying and suffocating. None of them stirred anything in me. I excused myself from a conversation with the CEO of a luxury watch brand and slipped away toward the balcony doors.

"Good evening, my lady?" My voice was low and confident.

She turned.

And I was struck. Her eyes-clear, deep, and impossibly magnetic-held me still for a heartbeat. Her skin glowed under the moonlight spilling in from the balcony, and her figure, graceful and poised, seemed carved to tempt the divine. There was an innocence in her gaze that made her all the more dangerous to me.

"Good evening, sir," she replied, bowing her head slightly, a gesture almost shy.

"May I know your name?"

"Susan Brooks." Her voice was soft, with a lilt that curled in my chest.

"I'm David." I didn't offer my surname. I wanted her to meet me, not the Lexington Empire. My family name made people tremble, but my face was known only to the inner circle of power-a deliberate choice. I preferred it that way.

"Would you enjoy dancing?" I asked, extending my hand.

"Yes," she said simply, placing her hand in mine. Her touch was warm, her skin impossibly smooth.

The orchestra played something slow and intoxicating. She moved with elegance, her hair brushing her shoulders, her lips curving into a smile that I felt in my chest. I found myself memorizing her-the soft arch of her brows, the faint sparkle in her emerald eyes. Each step, each turn, was a slow unraveling of my control.

By the time I realized we had drifted onto the balcony, the music was distant. The city sprawled beneath us, its lights flickering like fallen stars.

She looked up at me, and for a moment, there was no sound-only the quiet hum of connection.

And then we kissed.

It was not tentative. It was a magnetic pull neither of us resisted, a merging of breath and heat that seemed to confirm something unspoken between us. The moonlight caught on her lips as we parted briefly, only for her to pull me back in, deepening the kiss. I was lost in it, in her, in the inexplicable hunger she had awakened.

When I finally pulled back, it was only to whisper against her mouth, "Come with me."

She answered with another kiss.

Minutes later, we were in my penthouse suite, a space of glass and marble overlooking the endless city skyline. The world beyond those windows ceased to exist.

Her laughter was soft as I drew her closer, her lips parting under mine with a sweetness that burned. My hands found the delicate curve of her back, her body arching into me as though she had always belonged there. Her moans were quiet, almost hesitant, but the way she clung to me told me she wanted this as much as I did.

She gave herself to me that night-completely.

The rhythm between us was intoxicating, every movement, every sigh, every whispered gasp weaving a bond I hadn't known I was capable of forming. Somewhere in the haze of heat and touch, I murmured, "I love you."

She didn't speak, but her hands on my face and her lips on mine told me she felt something too.

We fell asleep tangled together, her head resting against my chest, her breathing steady. She slept like a child, peaceful and unguarded, and for the first time in years, I didn't want the night to end.

But morning came.

And she was gone.

The sheets beside me were cold, the faint scent of her perfume lingering like a memory I couldn't shake. On the pillow was a single silver bracelet, delicate and understated. My eyes shifted to the bed, and that's when I noticed the bloodstains-small and undeniable.

She had been untouched before me.

And I hadn't used protection.

I wasn't a man given to casual encounters. I was work-driven and calculating, my life a precise machine. Women had tried, and failed, to seduce me into their orbit. However, Susan managed to penetrate every defense I had and every wall I had built in just one night.

She had left without a number, without a note.

But that didn't matter.

I was David Lexington. The King of New York. Finding her wouldn't be a problem.

I held her bracelet in my palm, its weight light but its significance heavy. My lips curved into a slow, deliberate smile.

Susan Brooks had walked out of my suite, but she had taken something with her-my desire, my focus, and my control.

She didn't know it yet, but she was already mine.

And kings do not lose what is theirs.