The rain in New York had a way of turning the streets into rivers of light. Reflections from passing cars shimmered across the wet pavement, the neon glow of skyscrapers painting the night in gold and crimson. Aria Vale pulled her trench coat tighter around her, her heels clicking against the slick sidewalk. She hated being late — especially for her first night at her new job.

The truth was, this wasn’t just any job. It was her first step into a life she had built for herself — far away from the suffocating control of her father’s mansion and the pre-arranged marriage she’d escaped just three months ago. No one here knew she was the only daughter of Jonathan Vale, the real estate magnate whose name was plastered on half the buildings in Manhattan. She was simply “Aria,” a woman who’d earned her spot as a junior event planner in one of the most prestigious corporate firms in the city.

She arrived at the hotel ballroom, pushing open the grand glass doors. The air was thick with the scent of polished wood, champagne, and expensive cologne. The annual shareholder gala was already in full swing — men in tailored suits, women in glittering gowns, conversations flowing in low, confident tones.

Aria made her way toward the registration desk, checking her name tag, when a sudden ripple moved through the crowd. Heads turned. Voices hushed.

She followed their gaze.

And then she saw him.

Elias Drake.

She had only heard his name before — the elusive, almost myth-like billionaire who owned Drake Enterprises, a global empire spanning from finance to luxury resorts. He was younger than she expected, maybe mid-thirties, with sharp, chiseled features and eyes so cold they seemed carved from steel. The perfectly tailored black suit hugged his tall, broad frame like it was made just for him — and knowing men like him, it probably was.

But it wasn’t just his looks that held the room hostage. It was the way he moved — calm, deliberate, a predator who knew no one could touch him.

Aria quickly looked away, but not fast enough. His eyes found hers.

She froze.

It was just a flicker — a few seconds at most — but in that moment she felt stripped bare. His gaze wasn’t casual; it was assessing, calculating… as though he’d just discovered something interesting and wasn’t about to let it go.

Her heart picked up speed.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of introductions and small talk. But more than once, she caught him watching her from across the room. Never smiling, never approaching… just watching.

As she was preparing to leave, she felt the air shift. A shadow fell over her shoulder.

“Leaving so soon?” His voice was deep, smooth — dangerous.

She turned to face him. “I… I’ve got an early morning tomorrow.”

He studied her for a moment, as if weighing her answer. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Aria,” she said, keeping her voice steady.

“Elias,” he replied — as if she didn’t already know. His lips curved ever so slightly, but his eyes stayed sharp. “I hope this isn’t the last time we talk.”

And with that, he stepped past her, leaving a faint trail of expensive cologne in his wake — and a feeling in her chest that this man was not someone you simply walked away from.

Aria didn’t know it yet, but Elias Drake wasn’t just interested.

He was a man who took what he wanted.

And he had just decided he wanted her.

---

The rain had eased to a drizzle by the time Aria left the gala, her heels clicking against the marble steps outside the hotel. She pulled her coat tighter, ready to make the short walk to the subway, when a sleek black car pulled up beside her.

The tinted window rolled down, and she found herself staring at the same steel-gray eyes she’d tried so hard to ignore all evening.

“Get in,” Elias said — not as an invitation, but as a command.

Her pulse quickened. “I’m fine, thank you—”

“It’s raining,” he interrupted, his tone final. “And I don’t let women I’m interested in walk alone at night.”

That last part made her skin prickle. Against her better judgment, she slid into the leather interior, the scent of him filling the enclosed space — dark, warm, intoxicating.

The car glided forward, city lights streaking past the windows. He didn’t speak right away, simply studying her like she was a puzzle he planned to solve.

“You don’t belong in that crowd,” he finally said.

“I was working,” she replied, trying to keep her voice neutral.

“Working,” he repeated slowly, as though tasting the word. “You have the posture of someone who’s used to being served, not serving.”

She stiffened. “You don’t know me.”

He smiled faintly — the kind of smile that said I will.

When the car stopped, she realized they weren’t at her apartment. They were in front of an exclusive rooftop bar, its glass walls glowing against the night sky.

Inside, the place was nearly empty. He led her to a private corner booth without asking, his hand resting low on her back — a touch that was both protective and claiming.

The moment they sat, he leaned in, close enough for his breath to brush her ear. “I’ve been watching you all night, Aria. You keep your head down, but your eyes…” His gaze flicked to her lips. “They tell a different story.”

Her throat went dry. “And what story is that?”

“That you like being looked at.”

She swallowed, unsure whether to deny it.

He didn’t wait for an answer. His hand slid under the edge of her coat, fingers tracing the curve of her hip. She should have pulled away, but her body betrayed her — leaning in, heat pooling low in her stomach.

Elias’s lips brushed hers — not quite a kiss, more a promise of one. “If I kiss you now,” he murmured, “you won’t want to stop. And I don’t do it halfway.”

The air between them was molten. She was tempted to pull him in, to see just how far he would take it. But he drew back, the faintest smirk playing on his lips.

“Not tonight,” he said, standing. “But soon.”

And as he walked away to settle the bill, Aria realized she wasn’t disappointed.

She was already waiting for soon.

---

WARNING : MUST BE AT LEAST 18+ TO READ THIS!!!

Two nights later, Aria found herself standing in front of the same hotel where the gala had been held. She told herself she was here for work — a last-minute meeting to discuss upcoming events — but deep down, she knew it wasn’t the whole truth.

Part of her had been waiting for him.

And as if he’d heard that unspoken thought, Elias appeared the moment she stepped inside, wearing a charcoal suit that clung to him like sin. His gaze locked on hers, slow and deliberate, like a hunter who’d finally cornered his prey.

“Aria,” he said, his voice smooth, low. “Come with me.”

There was no question in his tone, no hesitation.

She followed him to the private elevator at the end of the hall, her pulse a steady drum in her ears. The doors slid shut, trapping them in a mirrored box. His reflection in the glass was all hard lines and quiet intensity.

Halfway up, he turned to face her.

“I told you I don’t do halfway,” he murmured.

Before she could respond, his hand cupped the side of her neck, and his mouth crashed onto hers. The kiss was fierce, consuming, a sudden flood after days of restraint. She melted into him, her fingers clutching the lapels of his suit as his tongue slid against hers, tasting, claiming.

The elevator dinged, but he didn’t break the kiss until they stepped into the dimly lit penthouse. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the glittering city below, but Aria barely noticed — all her focus was on the man whose hands were already exploring her body like he owned it.

His jacket hit the floor. Her coat followed. His fingers found the zipper of her dress, pulling it down slowly, deliberately, the sound loud in the charged silence.

“You have no idea,” he whispered against her skin, “how hard it was to wait for this.”

The dress pooled at her feet, leaving her in silk and lace. His eyes darkened as they raked over her, and she felt heat rise in every inch of her body.

He lifted her easily, carrying her to the bed. The city lights spilled across the sheets as he laid her down, his mouth trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone, down to the swell of her breasts.

When his hand slid between her thighs, she gasped, arching into his touch. He groaned, his lips brushing her ear. “Already so wet for me…”

There was no more waiting. No more teasing. He claimed her completely, every thrust deep and relentless, his grip on her hips making it clear she wasn’t going anywhere.

By the time he finally let her rest, her body was trembling — not from exhaustion, but from the knowledge that this was only the beginning.

Elias Drake didn’t take women to bed.

He kept them there.

---

WARNING : MUST BE AT LEAST 18+ TO READ THIS

Spoilers : His possessiveness starts to show in a more dangerous, controlling way. That’s when the romance turns into obsession.