NEW IDENTITY

Chapter 11

He gently placed on the bed, looking to see any hesitation in her eyes.

“Miss,” he said quietly, making sure she was aware of him. “You're drunk.”

“I know,” she replied, surprisingly clearly.

She stared into his eyes for another moment before adding softly, “But I know what I'm doing.”

He studied her face, making sure she wasn't confused about who he was or what was happening.

“Are you sure?”

Lyla nodded.

“Yes.”

She reached up, gently resting her hand against his cheek.

“I want to kiss you.”

He remained still for a moment.

“Are you certain?”

This time, Lyla gave him a small, deliberate smile.

“Yes.”

She leaned toward him and kissed him first.

The man stiffened in surprise, but when she pulled back slightly and looked at him, she didn't retreat.

Instead, she whispered, “Don't stop.”

Only then did he place a hand gently behind her head and return the kiss.

The kiss deepened, but he remained attentive to her reactions, giving her every opportunity to pull away.

She didn't.

Lyla's fingers curled lightly against his shirt as she willingly leaned closer.

For those few moments, the noise of the party disappeared.

There was only the warmth between them and the strange attraction neither of them had expected..

Lyla blinked up at him, her cheeks even redder.

She studied his face for a few seconds before murmuring,

“So… you're definitely not a wall.”

A faint smile appeared on his lips.

“No.”

Lyla smiled back.

“That's good.”

Strange emotions stirred within him as he gazed at the ravishing woman before him.

There was something about Lyla that unsettled his usual composure. Perhaps it was the vulnerability in her eyes, or the way she looked at him as though, for a brief moment, the rest of the world had ceased to exist.

He could no longer resist.

His hand gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing across her flushed skin before he lowered his head and kissed her.

The first kiss was tender.

Slow.

Almost cautious.

But when Lyla responded, her lips moving softly against his, something inside him shifted. His arm slipped around her waist, drawing her closer as the kiss deepened.

Lyla's fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt.

His lips eventually left hers and traced a slow path along her jaw before lingering at the delicate curve of her neck.

A soft gasp escaped her.

She tilted her head instinctively, giving him more room as his lips continued to brush against her skin.

“Beautiful,” he murmured.

Lyla opened her eyes for a moment, her gaze meeting his.

Then she pulled him back toward her.

Their lips met again, this time with greater urgency.

The kiss became warmer, more passionate, yet neither rushed. Every touch seemed deliberate, lingering just long enough to make her heart race.

His fingers moved slowly along her waist, while Lyla's arms slipped around his shoulders.

She could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palm.

For a moment, everything else disappeared.

No Kane.

No Evelyn.

No family betrayal.

No revenge.

Just the warmth of his embrace and the intoxicating closeness between two strangers who had somehow found themselves drawn together.

He rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling.

Lyla looked into his blue eyes, her cheeks flushed.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she whispered.

“Because,” he replied softly, “I'm trying to understand how someone I've known for only one night can already feel so familiar.”

Her heart skipped.

Instead of answering, Lyla leaned forward and kissed him again.

This time, there was no hesitation.

Only warmth, desire, and a quiet surrender to the moment.

Hours later, the room had fallen silent.

Lyla rested against his chest, her eyes closed as his arm remained wrapped around her.

For the first time in years, her mind was completely quiet.