The cool night air hit Ava's flushed skin the moment Lucien dragged her through the glass doors and onto the secluded balcony.
The city stretched out below them, glittering like a sea of diamonds. Beautiful. Distant. Untouchable.
Her heart hammered against her ribs. Her heels clicked against the marble as he tugged her forward, his grip on her wrist unrelenting. She stumbled, catching herself against the railing. The cold metal pressed into her back, locking her in place.
Lucien loomed over her. His broad shoulders cut her off from the world. His face was a storm—eyes dark, jaw tight, his breath sharp and controlled.
He was furious.
The sight twisted something deep in her stomach. Fear. And something else she didn't dare name.
The investor's smug smile flashed in her mind. She hadn't meant to encourage him. But Lucien had seen. And now—she was here. Trapped.
"You are mine."
His growl was low, dangerous, each word a blade. He released her wrist only to grip the railing on either side of her, caging her in.
"Every look you give. Every smile. It belongs to me."
Ava's breath caught. She wanted to fight back, to spit the words that she wasn't his property. But the intensity in his eyes stole her voice.
His presence suffocated her. Magnetic. Pulling her under like a riptide.
She pressed harder against the railing, desperate for space. But there was nowhere to go.
"Don't test me, Ava." His body leaned closer, his cologne wrapping around her—dark, spicy, dizzying. "You have no idea what I'm capable of when someone touches what's mine."
"I didn't—" she tried, her voice shaking.
But he cut her off.
"You smiled at him." His words were a snarl, his face inches from hers. "You let him think he had a chance."
Her lips parted in protest. Too late.
His hand shot up, cupping her jaw. His touch was firm. Not cruel. Not gentle either. Possessive. Claiming.
Her pulse raced. Her body betrayed her with a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold.
And then—he kissed her.
It wasn't soft. It wasn't tentative. It was fire and steel. A storm. A punishment.
His lips crashed against hers—fierce, unyielding. He stole her breath, her thoughts. His hand tightened on her jaw, tilting her head to deepen the kiss, his tongue demanding, commanding.
She should have pushed him away. She should have hated it.
But her hands betrayed her. They fisted in his tuxedo jacket, dragging him closer.
Heat erupted in her chest, flooding her veins like wildfire. She kissed him back. And she hated herself for it.
The world dissolved—the gala, the glittering city, her pride.
There was only Lucien. His lips bruising hers. His chest, hard and unrelenting, pressed against her body.
Too much. Too intense. Too wrong.
And still—she didn't stop.
He growled into her mouth, the sound vibrating through her. She felt it everywhere. Her knees weakened, and she clung to his jacket, desperate to stay upright.
The kiss wasn't love. It was ownership. Raw. Primal.
And it left her dizzy. Aching.
Abruptly, he pulled back. Ava gasped, her lips swollen, tingling.
Lucien's eyes blazed. His chest heaved. He lifted a hand, brushing his thumb across his mouth as though to erase her.
But his gaze never wavered. Hunger burned there, sharp enough to make her heart stumble.
"Consider that a warning." His voice was rough, frayed at the edges.
He stepped back. The mask slipped over his face again—cold, controlled, impenetrable.
"Don't make me remind you again."
Ava stayed frozen. Her breath ragged. Her body trembling.
She wanted to scream. To run. To demand what the hell he thought he was doing.
But nothing came.
She just stared as Lucien turned and disappeared back into the gala.
Leaving her alone on the balcony.
And the echo of his kiss still burning on her lips.