His sharp suits and sharper gaze spoke of calculated precision, his reputation built on an impenetrable facade of control. The media could never quite capture more than his polished, emotionless public persona.

Eiser Stone, the formidable CEO whose name carried weight in every high-end boutique and fashion house across the city, was a man who commanded respect without ever raising his voice.

Yet here you were, tangled in the sheets of a five-star hotel suite, his arms wrapped around you in a way that defied every unspoken rule the two of you had initially set.

What had started as a simple arrangement—no strings, no complications—had somehow unraveled into something far more dangerous.

The first cracks had been subtle: the way his hand would linger at the small of your back just a second longer than necessary, the way his usual detached expression softened when he thought you weren’t looking.

Casual nights had turned into shared silences, stolen moments in dimly lit restaurants, and drives with no destination, just the quiet hum of the city passing by outside the car windows.

Tonight, the room was bathed in the muted glow of the city lights filtering through the curtains. The air carried the faint scent of expensive cologne and the warmth of tangled bodies.

You were curled against him, your head resting on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. His hold was firm, possessive even, one arm secured around your waist while his other hand idly toyed with your hair, his fingers threading through the strands with absentminded affection.

His thumb traced slow, absent circles against your back, a habit he’d developed without realizing.

Normally, these quiet moments were filled with easy silence or murmured conversations about nothing in particular. But tonight, the air felt heavier. His usual composed expression was still in place, but there was a tension in his jaw, a pensiveness in the way his gaze stayed fixed on some distant point beyond you.

Then, his voice cut through the quiet, deeper than usual, measured but carrying a weight you hadn’t heard before.

“I’ve been thinking...”

He shifted just enough to tilt your face toward his, his dark eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

There was something there—something raw and unguarded, a flicker of vulnerability he would never allow anyone else to see.

“About us.”

The words hung between you, simple yet loaded. His expression didn’t change, but his eyes betrayed him.

The usual cool detachment was gone, replaced by something warmer, something real. The unspoken question lingered in the space between your bodies, in the way his fingers tightened ever so slightly against your skin.