MR. TYCOON'S SUGARBABY

Chapter 2

Jordan's POV

I glanced down at our still-intertwined hands, realizing neither of us had made a move to end the handshake. “That’s a bit presumptuous, don’t you think?” I said, trying to pull away, but he held on to me firmly.

"Maybe so." He leaned in, and the scent of his expensive cologne and aftershave instantly tickled my nose. Without breaking eye contact, brought my fingers to his lips, leaving a featherlight kiss on my knuckles that made my insides squirm with delight, and then he let me go.

"I apologize if I have offended you. Would you like something to drink?"

I nodded and watched as he skillfully popped a bottle of Dom Perignon, his movements precise, confident, and poised, the complete opposite of the nervous wreck I was at that moment. Honestly, I was more embarrassed than offended, but I wasn't about to admit that to him.

As he filled two flutes with the champagne, my eyes couldn't help ticking over the rest of him.

He was ripped. I could tell by the way his crisp black shirt clung to his body and the way his grey jeans tightened around his calves. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows revealing strong arms that were covered with intricate tattoos that likely continued up his torso. The upper buttons of his shirt were open, revealing his broad, muscular chest.

“So, what’s your name, beautiful?” He handed me a glass of champagne, his fingers grazing mine briefly before he leaned back in the plush seat.

"Jordan.” I replied, taking a slow sip, trying to keep my cool.

“Jordan...” he repeated like he was tasting the word. “Don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

“No, I uhh... came with a friend. Just looking for a fun night out, nothing serious.”

His dark eyes lingered on mine, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “I thought so. I’d have remembered a face like yours.”

His gaze was intense, magnetic. I was frustrated with how a stranger I'd known for no more than five minutes had this kind of effect on me. “Is that right?” I tilted my head, raising my glass. “And you haven’t told me your name yet.”

“Gabriel.”

“Ah, a regular then?”

He chuckled softly, leaning in just a little. “I’m more of a spontaneous guy, but yeah, I come here often enough.”

“And do you make a habit of hitting on every woman you come across, Gabriel?” I asked, crossing my legs. I hated to admit that I was fishing for a compliment, but that was, in fact, what I was doing.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. “Only the pretty ones.”

I smirked, thinking I had him right where I wanted, “There’s no shortage of pretty faces here. What made me stand out?”

He reached out, twirling a lock of my hair around his finger. “Maybe it’s the hair… it's the prettiest shade of red I’ve ever seen.”

I swallowed hard, heat rising to my cheeks. Close proximity with this attractive man was messing with my equilibrium and I hated it. “How fortunate,” I said, voice steadier than I felt, “that this pretty woman just landed in your lap.

“A man can’t complain, beautiful women are always in demand,” he said, his finger skimming down my cheek, sending a shiver straight down my spine. “Had to stake my claim before someone else did. Don’t you agree?”

“Smart,” I murmured, taking a deep breath and a gulp of champagne—too big a gulp. I choked, coughing hard as the bubbles hit the back of my throat.

His eyes widened, and I immediately felt the embarrassment flood in.

“Are you alright?” He reached out, steadying me as I set my glass down, coughing. "Get the lady some water, please." He said to a waitress who just happened to walk by.

“I’m fine,” I lied, reaching for some paper towels, feeling my face burn even redder. This wasn’t going the way I planned.

“Missed a spot,” Gabriel murmured, his thumb gently brushing a stray drop of champagne off my chin. I flinched at the electric jolt his touch sent through me, my heart racing. I bit my lip, looking away.

What the hell was wrong with me?!! I was behaving like some naive high school girl around a celebrity.

His fingers lingered on my chin, tilting my face toward him, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“N-no,” I stammered, swallowing hard. I paused, taking a deep breath to steady myself. “I’m just— I came out here because I needed a break. A distraction. And now that I’m here, I intend to enjoy it.” I said, more to convince myself than anything else. I crossed my legs again leaning back in my seat, a puny attempt at regaining my confidence.

He leaned back slightly, studying me like I was some kind of puzzle he was eager to solve.

“Interesting. What are you doing after this?”

"Honestly? Probably crashing.”

He smiled, slow and deliberate as if weighing his next words carefully. “I have a better idea."

💋

I had officially lost it. I was sitting in a car with a stranger I’d just met, racing through the city in a jet-black Tesla Model S, driven by a man as enigmatic and as mysterious as the night itself.

Wasn't this how horror movies or serial killer documentaries usually started? Had I learned nothing from the countless hours of crime shows I’d binged at home?

I thought back to Francine's expression when she saw me leaving the club with Gabriel—his hand resting lightly on the small of my back, guiding me toward the exit. The look on her face was priceless, but she recovered quickly, flashing a thumbs-up and mouthing, "You go, girl!"

My little escapade had also earned me a few icy glares from some of the women inside. As much as I wasn't looking forward to any antagonism on their part, Gabriel’s fangirl club could screw themselves. I wasn’t here to make friends.

The ride to god-knows-where was mostly silent, the tension so thick, I could taste it on my tongue. I occasionally snuck a glance in his direction, wondering if this wasn't the worst decision I’d ever made. Then I caught sight of the speedometer, and my heart nearly stopped.

If this man wasn’t a dangerously attractive, depraved murderer planning to kill me and dunk my body in the woods, his driving would certainly do me in.

"Could you slow down a little?" I muttered, sinking deeper into the seat and gripping the armrest like a lifeline. "I’m not exactly trying to die tonight."

He let out a soft chuckle and eased off the accelerator. "Sorry, force of habit." He glanced at me briefly before turning his attention back to the road. "You alright?"

"Yeah, just... don't kill us, okay?" I said, adjusting myself in the seat.

He smiled, glancing at me again. "I promise."

We arrived at Palazzo di Lusso, an upscale hotel off the coast of the city. We went up a driveway to the entrance where a valet appeared promptly despite the late hour.

"Buonasera, Signore Thorne, Signora. Posso occuparmi della sua macchina?" He greeted politely.

Thorne... Where had I heard that name before? It sounded oddly familiar. I mulled over it for a moment before dismissing the thought.

"Buonasera, Alfredo." Gabriel addressed the valet, exiting the car and handing him the keys. He promptly came over to my side, opened the door and extended his hand.

I took his hand as I stepped out of the car, feeling a surge of anticipation. It was my first time at the Palazzo di Lusso, and the sight of it left me speechless. The thirty-story architectural marvel, crafted from gleaming marble and glass, stood majestically before me. The landscape was pristine, with well-tended gardens, lush lawns, and elegantly groomed pathways adorned with fountains and sculptures, creating a scene of pure perfection.

We went through the revolving doors into the airy, spacious lobby with high ceilings elevated by thick pillars, grand chandeliers, and gleaming tile floors. Potted trees and plants were strategically positioned giving the place a touch of harmony.

There weren't any guests about the area this late into the night.

The receptionist perked up upon noticing our arrival, "Buonasera Signor Thorne, Signora. Benvenuti." She greeted politely, with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, another fangirl maybe.

Gabriel nodded to her, guiding me towards the bank of elevators, our footsteps resounding through the space.

I watched him summon the elevator; as the steel doors slid open, I couldn't help myself, "The staff are quite familiar with you, Mr. Thorne. Are you a regular here as well?"

"You could say that." He replied smoothly with a slanted smile that sped up my heartbeat. We rode up to the eighth floor. The silence was thick and the tension palpable. I wiped my clammy hands on my dress, blowing out a nervous breath.

"Don't look so terrified, Jordan; I don't bite." He said, laughter dancing in his dark eyes, "All I'm offering is a drink and some company."

My eyes narrowed instantly, "What else could you possibly be offering?"

He remained silent, but the wicked smirk on his lips suggested a lot more.

Heavens help me, the kind of thoughts this simple gesture incited in me was... positively scandalous to put it lightly.