LOVE, SECRETS, AND SCHEMESES

CHAPTER ONE

Liora Fontaine entered the luxurious bar with calm and steady movement, but inside, she knew she was a mess. She tried not to think of what she had done her step into this bar. Ever since the betrayal she witnessed days ago, she could not stop thinking about how stupid she was, how blind she had been.

The image replayed in her mind no matter how much she tried to bury it—familiar sounds, tangled limbs, and the cruel intimacy of it all. His chest tightened. Tonight was not about healing. It was about drowning the ache long enough to breathe again. If she could forget, even for an hour, she would take it.

Her heels clinked on the marble floor as she walked to the counter. She sat on the furthest seat from anyone because she certainly did not come here to converse. She came here to possibly drink the night away.

“What can I get for the beautiful woman?” the bartender across the counter smiled at her. Liora could not help but smile back.

“Something strong, if you don't mind.”

The bartender quickly got to work, and Liora took the time to look around the bar. Her eyes scanned the scene: the dancing bodies, the translucent lights, the addicting music, the low hum of conversation blending with the beat.

Then her gaze locked onto him.

Suddenly, she froze. Piercing eyes bore into hers, and a shiver ran down her spine. They weren't just staring — they were measuring, feeling, and Liora felt it everywhere. Her press quickened. Her stomach fluttered.

The man was divine. Everything about him screamed danger and desire. Tailored suit, jawline sharp enough to cut glass, eyes that seemed to see straight through her. She could feel heat pooling in places she shouldn't think about.

Suddenly, he stood. Liora instinctively straightened, facing the counter, but she couldn't look away. She downed her drink in one hurt gulp and spluttered.

“That was a bad idea,” she muttered. The bartender looked at her with mild concern etched on his face but all Liora thought of was how embarrassed she felt.

“Ma'am are you ok?” The bartender asked.

“I'll take care of the lady,” a deep voice said.

Liora froze as he slid into the seat next to her. Up close, he smelled faintly of something intoxicating, and his eyes roamed her with calculated intent.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice low and smooth.

“Yes… yes, I'm alright,” she managed.

“You look like you came here for an escape.”

“That obvious, huh?”

“No, I just paid more attention.” His words brushed against her like fire. She blamed it on the alcohol that made her heart betray her.

“You seem intoxicated.”

“I'm lightweight.”

“Then why the strongest vodka?”

“Like you said, I came here to forget.” His lips lifted into a smirk that made her stomach flutter again. What is wrong with me?

“Wanna dance?”

Her mind raced. Her body wanted this. Her heart said yes before she could even think. She took his hand.

The music changed. A slow, sensual beat filled the bar. His hands found her waist immediately. Strong. Commanding. Perfect. She melted into him, The world narrowed to the warmth of his hands and the steady rhythm guiding her movements. She felt seen in a way that unsettled her—not pitied, not used, but desired. It terrified her how easily she responded, how her body betrayed every wall she had built. For the first time since the betrayal, she didn't feel broken, she felt wanted.

Every step, every touch, was a conversation in itself. He leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “What is your name?”

“Liora”, she whispered, her breath united. “And yours?” A low sound escaped him—almost a laugh, almost approval. 

“Ashvin,” he said.

His thumb brushed her waist as he murmured her name again, tasting it. “You dance beautifully Liora.”

Her breath caught. Her heartbeat thundered in her chest. His hand traced lightly along her side, teasing, making her want more. She bit her lip, trying to ground herself, but the tension was delicious, impossible to resist.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

She didn't hesitate. She needed this. She grabbed her bag, letting him lead her upstairs. The staff greeted him with a nod, and she realized he must own this place.

The door closed behind them, and suddenly she was alone with him. The room was vast, luxurious — a playground for desire. Before she could think further, his hands were at her waist, his lips at her ear. She shivered, a satisfied sigh escaping her lips as he nipped lightly.

He turned her toward him, and she felt his lips on hers. She responded instinctively, the kiss deepening, teasing, lingering. Heat pooled between them. His hands were everywhere, yet everywhere they lingered left her wanting more.

She tried to step back, but he pulled her closer. Her heart raced. Her pulse burned. The world outside disappeared.

He lowered her gently onto the bed, still pressing close, lips brushing her skin, breathing warm. She let her fingers curl into her hair, savoring the electricity of the moment. Their kisses were slow, deliberate, teasing, making every nerve in her body awaken.

“Are you sure you want this?” His eyes held hers, dark and questioning.

She could only nod, words failing her.

They spent the night wrapped in heat and longing, touches lingering in all the right places, teasing, craving. Time blurred. Reality slipped away beneath the weight of sensation. She forgot the hurt. Forgot the name that once owned her heart. There was only this moment—the brush of skin, the promise in every lingering touch. She clung to it like a lifeline, like something that she had been waiting for all her life, knowing it would eventually vanish.

Liora stirred awake with the light directly on her face. Her head was pounding. She rubbed her eyes, and her gaze fell on the man next to her — naked. She froze.

“Oh no.”