Being stranded on the sidewalk during a rainstorm wasn't exactly on your agenda, but here you were, drenched and regretting every choice that had led you to this moment.

The icy rain plastered your clothes to your skin, and the wind whipped your hair around your face, making it impossible to see clearly.

You had called your brother, Josh, telling him you needed your car back.

The idiot had borrowed your car and provided a terrible excuse about it needing service.

He had mumbled something about a mysterious knocking sound and a mechanic's urgent recommendation.

None of which sounded remotely believable, especially coming from Josh.

You knew his 'urgent' often meant 'I forgot to fill the tank.'

Adding to your already bad day, Josh said that he drove out the city.

"Just a quick trip," he'd chirped, "to pick up some rare collectible."

The words echoed in your mind like a mocking reminder while you shivered in the downpour, feeling utterly pissed.

You clenched your fists, imagining the satisfaction of wringing his neck, a fleeting but potent fantasy.

Nevertheless, Josh promised to send someone to pick you up, though his vague assurance of 'someone' left a bitter taste in your mouth.

When Josh said, “My friend would be there soon,” it often meant the man you didn't like.

So, when the headlights finally cut through the downpour, you felt a brief flicker of relief.

Only for it to evaporate as quickly as it came.

Your hopes for rescue were dashed when the familiar black Aston Martin arrived, its tires hissing softly as it slowly approached on the wet asphalt.

Xavier Castillo.

The name itself, a whispered curse and a fervent prayer in equal measure, conjured images of sharp suits, even sharper wit, and an ambition that knew no bounds.

The youngest CEO billionaire of his own architectural company — Castillo Architects.

And the last person you wanted to see.

Xavier's very presence seemed to radiate an aura that grated on your nerves.

A devil with the face of an angel.

You were an equally accomplished individual as a successful doctor who owned a prestigious hospital called CarefulHealth.

You had crossed paths with Xavier on several occasions, and each interaction served as a reminder of his unprincipled demeanor.

The thought of being rescued by Xavier was almost as unappealing as remaining stuck in the rain.

Almost.

The thing about Xavier was that he wasn’t the 'I’ll do my buddy a favor and rescue his stranded little sister' type.

No, Xavier was more the 'Look at me wrong and I’ll dismantle your entire existence without breaking a sweat' type.

And he'd do it so calmly, so exquisitely, that you wouldn’t even notice your life unraveling until you were left in ruins.

In a smoldering heap of ashes at Xavier's Tom Ford-clad feet.

Xavier made the effort of rolling the window down, the glass gliding down to reveal his annoyingly handsome face.

A slow, knowing smirk played on his lips as his gaze met yours, and he gestured towards the passenger seat.

"Get in," Xavier's voice cut through the downpour.

Xavier didn’t need to raise his voice; he never did.

The authority in his tone was enough to command attention and demand compliance.

Xavier's gaze settled upon your figure standing on the cold, hard pavement.

Water, in persistent rivulets, cascaded down your form, leaving your clothes utterly saturated and clinging to your skin.

A delicate flush of pink bloomed across your cheeks, a clear testament to the biting chill of the air.

Your emerald eyes, shined adorably with an otherworldly beauty.

And your lips, so perfectly plump and inviting, held a promise of sweetness making him want to get out of the car and taste them for himself.

Fuck, he needed to control his thoughts.

It was impossible though.

You hesitated.

"I hope you’re not waiting for me to open the door for you, sweetheart," Xavier added, raising his eyebrows, impatience flickering in his ocean gaze.

The frustration mirrored your own reluctance.

Xavier rolled the window back up, already reigniting the engine again.

What a gentleman.