Chapter 1 The Forbidden First Meeting

# Chapter 1: The Forbidden First Meeting

"Just one night, Ava. No names, no strings, just pure fantasy."

Lisa's words echoed in my mind as I stood outside the unmarked door, my heart pounding against my ribs like a caged animal. The night air was cool against my flushed skin, and the black dress I wore—borrowed from Lisa's "special occasion" collection—felt simultaneously too tight and too revealing.

The Eros Club. Even the name sent a shiver down my spine.

"Password?" The doorman's face remained impassive, his broad shoulders blocking the entrance like a human wall.

"Aphrodite's secret," I whispered, the words feeling foreign on my tongue.

He nodded once, stepping aside to reveal a dimly lit hallway. The door closed behind me with a soft click that somehow sounded like finality.

I'd never considered myself adventurous. At twenty-eight, I was the epitome of predictable—marketing executive at a respectable firm, apartment with a cat named Mr. Darcy, and a dating history so sparse it barely registered as a history at all. Which was precisely why Lisa had practically forced this membership card into my hand.

"You need to live a little," she'd insisted over our third glass of wine last weekend. "This place is exclusive, safe, and completely anonymous. Perfect for someone like you who overthinks everything."

The hallway opened into a plush lounge bathed in amber light. Crystal chandeliers hung from high ceilings, casting prisms across the walls. Men and women mingled, drinks in hand, faces partially obscured by ornate masks. The air was thick with expensive perfume and unspoken promises.

A hostess approached, her smile practiced but warm. "First time?" she asked, offering me a black velvet mask.

I nodded, unable to find my voice.

"The rules are simple," she continued, helping me secure the mask. "No full names. No personal information. What happens here remains here." She gestured toward the bar. "Enjoy your evening. If you decide to... connect with someone, there are private rooms upstairs. Each has a button if you wish to end the encounter at any point."

With that, she glided away, leaving me alone in a sea of beautiful strangers.

I made my way to the bar, ordered a gin and tonic, and tried to look like I belonged. The alcohol burned pleasantly down my throat, easing some of the tension in my shoulders.

"You're gripping that glass like it's a lifeline."

The voice came from my left—deep, slightly amused, with an accent I couldn't quite place. I turned to find a man watching me, his eyes impossibly blue behind his black mask. He was tall, dressed in a perfectly tailored dark suit that accentuated broad shoulders and a lean frame. Something about his posture screamed confidence, power.

"Is it that obvious?" I managed.

"Only to someone who's paying attention." He moved closer, the scent of his cologne—something woodsy and expensive—enveloping me. "First night?"

"Is that obvious too?"

"You haven't stopped scanning the exits since you arrived." His smile was small but genuine. "Contemplating escape?"

"Contemplating everything," I admitted, surprising myself with my honesty.

He chuckled, the sound warm and unexpectedly comforting. "I'm K," he said, extending his hand.

"A," I replied, feeling the strength in his grip as we shook hands.

"Just A?" His eyebrow arched above his mask.

"Those are the rules, aren't they? No names."

"Indeed they are." He signaled the bartender. "Another for the lady, and scotch, neat, for me."

We talked for what felt like hours. Or rather, we talked around things—no personal details, but somehow deeper conversations than I'd had on most actual dates. He was intelligent, witty, with a sharp edge to his humor that made me laugh despite my nervousness.

"Dance with me," he said eventually, not a question but not quite a command either.

The music had shifted to something slower, more intimate. I let him lead me to the dance floor, his hand warm against the small of my back. When he pulled me close, I could feel the solid wall of his chest, the controlled strength in his arms.

"You're trembling," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear.

"I'm not usually this... impulsive."

His hand tightened slightly at my waist. "What do you want tonight, A?"

The question hung between us, loaded with possibility. I looked up at him, at the intensity in those blue eyes, and made a decision that was completely unlike me.

"I want to forget who I am, just for tonight."

Something flashed in his gaze—satisfaction, perhaps, or hunger. "I can help with that."

He led me up the curving staircase, past couples disappearing behind closed doors. My heart hammered so loudly I was certain he could hear it. The room he chose was at the end of the hallway, larger than I expected, dominated by a massive bed.

"We can stop at any time," he said, closing the door behind us. "Just say the word."

I nodded, unable to speak past the tightness in my throat.

"There's one more thing." He moved to a dresser, opening a drawer to reveal a black silk blindfold. "May I?"

"Why?" I managed.

"Because anonymity is about more than masks. It's about surrender." He moved closer, his presence overwhelming my senses. "Trust me."

And inexplicably, I did. I turned, allowing him to secure the blindfold over my eyes. The world went dark, my other senses immediately heightening. The sound of his breathing, the rustle of fabric as he moved, the heat of his body near mine.

"Now," his voice came low and commanding in my ear, "let me help you forget."

What followed was unlike anything I'd experienced. Without sight, every touch became electric, every whispered word magnified. He was commanding yet attentive, pushing boundaries I didn't know I had while somehow reading my responses perfectly. His hands were both rough and gentle, his mouth demanding and giving in equal measure.

In that darkness, I became someone else—uninhibited, bold, responsive to his every touch. And he seemed to revel in my transformation, his controlled demeanor occasionally slipping to reveal something raw and genuine.

Hours later, as we lay tangled in sheets, my blindfold removed but masks still in place, he traced patterns on my bare shoulder.

"Regrets?" he asked quietly.

I considered the question, surprised by my answer. "No. None."

He smiled then, a real smile that transformed his face even behind the mask. "Good."

We didn't exchange numbers or real names when we parted at dawn. Those were the rules, after all. He kissed me one last time at the club's exit, his hand cupping my face with surprising tenderness.

"Goodbye, A," he said simply.

I watched him walk away, feeling strangely hollow despite the lingering satisfaction in my body. I told myself it was for the best—one perfect, anonymous night, no complications.

The next morning, I dragged myself to work on too little sleep but with a secret smile I couldn't quite suppress. The office was buzzing with unusual energy—today was the day our new CEO would be announced following the previous one's sudden retirement.

"You look different," Lisa commented, perching on the edge of my desk with a knowing smirk. "Did someone have fun last night?"

I felt my cheeks heat. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Uh-huh." She handed me a coffee. "Well, you might want to fix your makeup before the meeting. Wouldn't want our mysterious new boss to think you're anything less than professional."

The company-wide meeting was held in the main conference hall, every seat filled as we waited for the announcement. I sat near the back, fighting a yawn and wondering if I could sneak out early to catch up on sleep.

The board chairman stepped up to the podium, his voice echoing through the microphone. "After an extensive search, I'm pleased to announce that Kane Richardson will be taking over as CEO, effective immediately."

Polite applause filled the room as a tall figure moved toward the stage. I straightened in my seat, a chill of recognition racing down my spine before my brain could even process why.

The man who took the podium was immaculately dressed in a tailored navy suit. His dark hair was styled perfectly, his jawline sharp enough to cut glass. But it was his eyes that made my breath catch—piercing blue, exactly like the ones I'd stared into last night in the dim light of an exclusive club.

"Thank you for the warm welcome," he began, his voice—that voice—washing over me. "I'm looking forward to leading this company into a new era of innovation and growth."

As he spoke about his vision for the company, his gaze swept the audience, pausing momentarily as it found me. A flash of recognition, followed by something more calculated, crossed his features. The corner of his mouth lifted in a subtle smirk that only I would understand the meaning behind.

The meeting concluded, and people began filing out. I sat frozen, unable to move as the reality of the situation crashed over me. I had spent the night with my new CEO. My new boss. The man who now held my career in his hands.

As if drawn by my panic, he approached, moving through the dispersing crowd with easy confidence. People stepped aside for him, eager to introduce themselves, but his focus remained fixed on me.

He stopped directly in front of my seat, extending his hand formally as if we were meeting for the first time. His eyes, however, told a different story.

"I don't believe we've been properly introduced," he said, his voice carrying just enough inflection for me to catch his double meaning. "Kane Richardson."

I took his hand automatically, feeling the same strength, the same heat as the night before. "Ava Mitchell. Marketing department."

His grip tightened almost imperceptibly, his smile widening with private amusement. Then he leaned closer, his words for my ears alone.

"You recognize me, don't you, Ava?"

Is this chapter satisfactory?