Billionaire's Untouched Flower

"You're three weeks late, Ana."

Mia's voice was sharp, cutting through the silence of the lit café. Ana bent her head, gripping the ceramic mug in her hands as if it could somehow shield her from the weight of her best friend's disappointment.

"I know," Ana murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

"You promised me, Ana. You said you'd pay back as soon as your stepmother was settled. But instead, you....." Mia exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "You gave her everything, didn't you?"

Ana swallowed the lump in her throat, staring at her untouched coffee in front of her. She didn't need Mia's judgment, she already carried enough guilt to drown herself.

"She needed it," Ana said finally. "She said she'd be kicked out of the apartment if she didn't pay."

"And what about you?" Mia's voice softened, but the frustration lingered. "You're struggling, Ana. You barely have enough to eat. You're behind on rent. And yet, you keep handing over everything to that woman."

Ana knew for a fact that her best friend was right. That woman. That was what Mia called her stepmother, never acknowledging her as family. But Ana couldn't bring herself to turn her back on the woman who raised her, no matter how cruel or selfish she had become.

"I'll figure something out," Ana said, forcing herself to sound confident, though she had no idea how.

Mia sighed, rubbing her temples before looking at her with something close to pity.

"I didn't want to suggest this," she said hesitantly, "but I have a job for you. It pays well. You'll be able to cover your debts and even save up to get out of that toxic household."

Ana looked up, anxious to know. "What kind of job?"

Mia hesitated. Then she leaned in, lowering her voice. "I need an extra girl at Crimson Veil tonight."

Ana blinked. "Crimson Veil?" The name alone sent a chill down her spine. It was one of the most exclusive gentlemen's clubs in the city, frequented by high-rolling businessmen, politicians, and men with pockets deeper than the ocean.

"You don't have to do anything crazy," Mia said quickly. "Just dance. Work the floor. Make conversation. Trust me, it's easy money."

Ana's stomach twisted. "Mia, I.... I..."

"Look, I know what you're thinking," Mia interrupted, grabbing Ana's hands. "But you need this. It's one night. Just one. If you don't like it, you never have to do it again."

Ana bit her lip. Mia wasn't wrong. She was drowning, barely holding onto the scraps of her dignity. She had promised herself she'd never sink this low, but what other choice did she have? One night wasn't going to hurt her.

"Just one night?" she whispered.

Mia nodded. "Just one."

That night, Ana's heart pounded as she stepped into the club. The air was thick with perfume and the scent of expensive whiskey, the dim red lighting casting a sultry glow over the room.

As Ana stepped through the doors of Crimson Veil, a wave of heat and perfume hit her like a tangible force. The air was thick with the mingling scents of expensive whiskey, cologne, and the faint trace of vanilla-scented candles burning at the private booths. The room pulsed with deep, sensual bass, the music slow and intoxicating, wrapping around her like a velvet rope she couldn't untangle from.

The lighting was low and seductive, casting everything in hues of crimson and gold. Spotlights roamed the glossy black stage, where a woman moved like liquid sin, her body bending effortlessly under the glow of neon reds. Silk curtains framed the VIP sections, offering just enough secrecy to tempt the imagination, yet not enough to fully hide the silhouettes of powerful men indulging in their vices.

Ana's stomach twisted. She had never been in a place like this. A place that smelled of desire and money. A place where power played out in whispered deals and stolen touches.

She tugged at the hem of her short satin dress, feeling like an imposter among the confident women who worked the floor with effortless grace. "Just one night," she reminded herself.

Mia had given her the easiest job, floor work. She wasn't expected to perform on stage, only to mingle and entertain the wealthy clients.

But even so, she felt exposed. She felt vulnerable.

"Relax," Mia murmured beside her, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze. "No one's going to bite."

Ana inhaled deeply and stepped forward, she could see past clusters of men in tailored suits, their gazes lingering as she walked by. She kept her chin up, reminding herself she was in control.

And then she saw him. Fred Nork. A man who commanded the entire room without uttering a single word.

A very wealthy man, everyone knew who he was, Fred Nork. She had only seen him on T.V shows, in different interviews on his company.

Even she knew his name. CEO of Majesties, a billion-dollar luxury brand specializing in high-end footwear. Ruthless in business. Cold, calculating, and dangerously attractive.

He was seated in a private booth, he had a tumbler of whiskey in his hand, watching the floor with an unreadable expression.

Their eyes met. Ana's breath hitched. His stare was intense, piercing through her, looking at her with so much intimacy.

Ana couldn't hold up, she was a very shy person and wasn't someone who mongled with men. She felt a burning sensation of looking. But she knew she had to keep moving.

The more she tried to keep a straight face on her new job the more distracting she found Freds gaze. A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he lifted his glass in a silent invitation.

Mia was standing beside her, she had noticed every movement from Freds side, she immediately nudged her. "That's Thorne Nork," she whispered. "If he wants you at his table, go."

Ana's pulse raced. She had never done that before, never spoken to anyone she didn't know, never been a striper before. This wasn't part of the plan. She was supposed to blend in, not attract the attention of the most powerful man in the room.

Yet, her feet moved before she could stop herself, offcourse she remembered her debts.

She approached his table, every nerve in her body screaming at her to turn around and run.

But then he spoke. "Sit."

A simple command. Deep and authoritative.

Ana hesitated for half a second before lowering herself onto the seat across from him.

His eyes roamed over her, slow and deliberate, making her shiver.

"You don't belong here," he mused, swirling the liquid in his glass.

Ana forced herself to meet his gaze. "And yet, here I am."

His smirk deepened. "Would you like a drink?" he asked smoothly.

Ana shook her head. "I don't drink."

"Smart girl." He took a sip of his whiskey, watching her over the rim. "But I didn't call you over for small talk."

Her stomach twisted. "Then why did you?"

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Because I want you to dance for me."

Ana's throat went dry.

She had barely survived walking into this place, let alone performing for a man like him.

She forced herself to keep her voice steady. "I'm not a performer."

Thorne chuckled, a deep, rich sound that sent shivers down her spine. "No," he agreed. "You're not. But I think that's exactly why I want to watch you."

Her fingers curled into fists in her lap. One night. That's all this was.

"Fine," she murmured, standing. His eyes darkened with something dangerous. "Good."

The music shifted, deep, sensual beats thrumming through the speakers. Ana took a steadying breath, pushing down the embarrassment curling in her stomach.

The moment she started moving, she felt his gaze on her, a gaze that was watching her, devouring her and owning her. She had never felt more vulnerable.

When the song ended, she turned back toward him, breathless. His expression was unreadable.

Then, slowly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek, black business card.

He slipped it into her purse without breaking eye contact.

"I would love to see you again" His voice was a seducing and barely above a whisper.

Ana had performed so well, she was an introverted dancer, and was so good with her waste movements. Ana stared at him with her heart pounding.

Ana's fingers trembled as she held the crystal glass filled with amber liquid. She had never been a drinker, but tonight was different, tonight, she wasn't the girl who carried the weight of her stepmother's debt. Tonight, she was someone else, someone reckless, someone bold.

Fred Nork watched her "You don't have to drink if you don't want to." His voice was deep, rich like dark chocolate, laced with something that made her insides tight.

She took a sip anyway, letting the burn coat her throat, dulling the weight of her thoughts. "I don't usually do this."

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Yet here you are."

Ana exhaled, she was scared. She didn't know why she let herself be led into this secluded part of the club with him. Maybe it was the way he commanded attention. Maybe it was the way he looked at her, like she was something rare, something worth more than the handful of bills thrown onto the stage.

Or maybe it was because, for once in her life, she was doing a job she never believed she could ever do.

"You intrigue me." His words sent a shiver down her spine. She shouldn't be there. She shouldn't want this. But the alcohol was making everything hazy, and the man in front of her was intoxicating in a way no liquor ever could be.

"You're drunk." He reached for the glass, but she pulled it away.

"Not enough to forget."

His eyes darkened. "Forget what?"

"That tomorrow I go back to being nobody." His jaw tightened, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Fred looked at the drunk lady by hus side, she was young and beautiful with very fragile skin, she was drawned in the very little alcohol she had taken and something pulled them together, Fred reached for her, his fingers tracing along her wrist, sending sparks up her arm.

"Stay with me tonight." Ana looked at Fred, noticing every beauty in every corner of his face line, she was drunk. The air between them thickened, charged with something dangerous. "And if I say yes?"

"Then I'll make you remember this night forever."

The heat in his words sent a wildfire through her veins. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the way his fingers trailed up her arm, but she found herself wanting.

He didn't wait for her to change her mind. With an effortless grace, he stood, offering his hand. "Come with me."

She hesitated only for a second before slipping her fingers into his, letting him guide her away from the club and into the night.

Fred had treated her very special, like every other night spent in the bar, he had made her feel so comfortable, she had sat comfortable in the very ĺuxirious car and their elevator ride had been a blur, the hum of the city faded behind the doors as they ascended into the unknown.

When they finally stepped into the penthouse, Ana's breath hitched. It wasn't the cold kind of luxury she had imagined a man like Fred Nork would own. No, this was different. It was Intimate. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched along the entire length of the room, showcasing a dazzling view of the city lights, their glow reflecting against the black marble floors. The air smelled expensive, like whiskey, with a lingering trace of his cologne.

Ana stood frozen near the door, her head was spinning, not just from the alcohol but from the weight of where she was, who she was with. Even in her intoxicated state, a small voice inside her screamed that this was dangerous, that she wasn't thinking clearly. But another voice, the one drowning in her head, pleaded her to escape.

Fred took off his blazer, resting it on a nearby chair before turning to face her. His eyes looked dark and knowing, he studied her carefully. "If you want to leave, now's the time."

Her lips parted, but the words stuck in her throat. She should walk away. She should tell him this was a mistake. That she wasn't this kind of girl.

But then his fingers brushed against her cheek, teasing, with some much possession. All rational thought in her head melted away.

"I don't want to leave," she whispered.

He didn't give her time to analyze it as he smiled to her answer.

"Then don't," he murmured ad he gently kissed her.

It wasn't hesitant. It wasn't careful. It was with fire and possession, a promise and a demand all at once. His lips moved against hers with a dominance that stole her breath, his hands anchoring her as though he was claiming her in ways words couldn't.

Ana melted into him, her body betraying her hesitation. Every inch of her tingled under his touch, his scent, his warmth. She had never been kissed like this before, never been wanted like this before.

Fred pulled back slightly, his breath ragged against her lips. "Tell me to stop." he demanded, but then she didn't.

Clothes disappeared, urgency taking over as he led her toward the massive bed that dominated the center of the house. The room blurred around her, sensations replacing reason. His touch, his mouth, his body pressed against hers, all of it became a haze of heat and surrender.

It wasn't until much later, when the passion settled into heavy silence, that reality crept in.

Ana lay curled against Fred's bare chest, his warmth wrapping around her like an intoxicating cocoon. Her fingers traced lazy patterns along his skin, the soft rise and fall of his breathing strangely soothing.

The weight of what she had done hit her. She had given herself to a man she barely knew. A man who carried so much power, so much untouchable pride.

Fred's arm tightened around her, as if he could sense her, he had enjoyed every monet with her "Sleep," he murmured, his voice husky with exhaustion.

Ana laid, drunk and confused, unsure of what had happened.

"Ah..... my head!" Ana whispered, staring at the city lights beyond the window, she finally sat upright, noticing the nakedness of her body as she remembered the previous night, she suddenly began battling the storm of regret rising inside her. She knew for a fact that moment, that she had to leave.

She turned to the other corner of the bed to meet the man she had committed to unconsciously lying on the bed, so comfortable, so without a problem. She hastened up to leave before it became something more. Before he woke up and realized.

The sheets were twisted around her body, the scent of Fred's cologne lingering in the air. She stared at the pale light seeping through the floor-to-ceiling windows, her heart hammering in her chest.

She shouldn't have done it.

The sheets had a deep red stain bloomed beneath her, stark against the white silk, it was her blood.

Fred Nork had taken something from her tonight. Something she could never take back. And he didn't even know it yet.

Ana felt so much shame, she panicked from the thought of what she had given a way, something she had done all because she was in debt. She couldn't let him find out, she couldn't let anyone find out. Couldn't bear to see the look on his face when he realized.

Carefully, she slipped out from under his arm, her movements were slow and calculated. She gathered her dress, her heels, barely daring to breathe as she backed toward the door. She took one last glance.

He was still asleep, he looked so strong with steady breaths. Her heart clenched. Then she turned, and ran, praying not to ever meet the man that had made her feel so ashamed.

Few moments later, Fred woke up in a haze, his body still aching from the intensity of the night. Fred's lazy hand reached for the warmth that had been beside him. But then he realised as his hands went searching that the corner was empty.

His heart raced, the remnants of passion and desire still clinging to him like a drug. The scent of her, her softness, was all around him. And yet, she was gone.

His brows furrowed, eyes cracking open. He sat up, pushing the dark strands of his hair away from his forehead, confusion clouding his thoughts. He hadn't expected to wake up alone.

He dragged out his wallet to check if his money was still intact, everything seemed the way he had left them, his money was intact, his cell phone and everything valuable.

Fred didn't panic. His life had been filled with beautiful women, none of them ever stayed the night. But there was something about her, something different. Something that made him uneasy.

He threw the sheets off himself and stood up, pacing the room. Fred ran a hand through his tousled hair, trying to shake off the nagging feeling creeping up his spine. Something felt off. He could still smell her, a mix of vanilla and something uniquely hers, clinging to the sheets, haunting the room. But she was gone. No note. No trace. Just a ghost of her presence.

His gaze drifted down, and that's when he saw it.

A deep red stain, against the white silk sheets. His breath stopped for a while, his body going still as he stared at it, noticing for a fact that it was blood.

His heart pounded even harder, a strange mix of confusion and concern settling in his chest. Had she been hurt out of his pleasure and drunkenness? Had something happened that he hadn't noticed?

Fred sat back down on the edge of the bed, running a hand over his face as his mind raced. She had been a mystery from the start, slipping into his world for one night and vanishing without a trace. But now, this wasn't just about that.

He had never disvirgined a lady before, who was she?

His mind began to race. It hadn't been a one-night stand for him and he knew that. It had been something else, something more intense.

He pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt, grabbing his jacket before heading out of the penthouse. His fingers brushed over the sleek surface of his phone, scrolling through his contacts, but he hesitated. No, he didn't want to get her number that way. He didn't want to force her into anything.

Instead, Fred called his security team. "Find her. Find out everything you can. I need to know who she is."

He didn't wait for a response. He didn't have time. There was something in him, a need, an obsession, that was starting to take root.

Ana had left before he woke up, slipping away like a shadow. But Fred didn't like it, especially with what he had seen. He couldn't let it go.

Ana stood in front of the cracked mirror in the small bathroom, her stomach churning. She looked at herself, wild hair, smudged makeup, and eyes that were far too tired for a girl her age. What had she done?

She wasn't the kind of woman who gave herself away so easily. She wasn't like the others, the women who lived for nights like that, in luxury houses with billionaires. But she had been caught in something more than just his touch. It was like Fred had somehow slipped under her skin, made her forget the rules she had set for herself.

But no matter what, she was determined. No more stripping. No more living in that world. She would find a way to live honestly, she had to.

The money she made was the only thing keeping her afloat, but it wasn't worth the damage it was doing to her. She couldn't keep doing it. The thought of it made her stomach twist in disgust.

"I'm done," she whispered to her reflection, wiping off tears of pain, pain of losing something she could never get in this world again "I'm done with all of it."

She turned away from the mirror, her mind was made up. Ana would find a new job, a way to earn a living that didn't make her feel cheap or empty. She didn't know how, but she would.