Deadly When Desired

“Aria…” “Where are you?” I heard my name echo faintly behind me, but I couldn’t respond, not when he was on screen. I sat frozen, eyes locked on the television, too mesmerized to blink. The man speaking at the conference wasn’t just any man. He was the man. The one I wasn’t supposed to want. The one my thoughts clung to at night. The one my body betrayed me for. Everything about him felt forbidden… and everything about him called to me. I wasn’t the type to watch the news. Couldn’t care less about stock updates or investor predictions. But whenever he was on TV, even for a ten-second clip I was glued like my soul depended on it. Tonight was no different. He was speaking at a global business summit, dressed in his signature black tailored suit, his hair neatly slicked back, and those piercing gray eyes scanning the audience with quiet authority. Every movement was intentional. Every word laced with power. And my body responded —helplessly. I watched the way his lips moved, slowly, firmly… and imagined them against mine. The way he gestured with his hands, commanding respect, how they’d feel gripping…my waist. The soft roll of his shoulders, the strength in his posture —what it would be like to feel that body pressed against mine. Moving with mine. My thighs clenched, heat flooding between them. I could feel my panties dampen as I sat there, utterly lost in the man I had no business desiring. He wasn’t just off-limits. He was practically carved out of sin. Older. Powerful. Untouchable. And worst of all, my father’s best friend! Still, none of that stopped the way my body ached for him. None of it silenced the dreams where he whispered filthy things into my ear, where he reached for me like I belonged to him. None of it killed the fantasy. I knew this wasn’t normal. I knew I should lock those feelings away, bury them. But when it came to him, there was no logic. Only want. Raw and reckless. “Aria! I’ve been calling you,” Beatrice said, snapping me out of my trance as she walked into the room. I didn’t answer immediately. I couldn’t. I was still too far gone. Her eyes flicked to the screen. “Oh my God.” She groaned. “Don’t tell me you’re still obsessing over him.” “You’d rather watch him on TV than see him in real life?” she asked, her tone laced with judgment and genuine disbelief. I finally turned, slowly, like someone waking from a dream. “You know how I get when I’m around him,” I murmured, looking away. “I become… too aware of myself. Of everything. He makes me feel like a little girl again. It’s humiliating. I want him to see me as a woman. But it’s hard. It’s…” I stopped, swallowing the lump in my throat. “It’s impossible.” She crossed her arms. “Girl, you need to stop. This is beyond wrong. You’ve had a crush on that man since…what? Sixteen?” I bit the inside of my cheek. She wasn’t wrong. I’d spent years trying to get him to look at me like more than just Daniel Lancaster’s little girl. Years trying to grow into the kind of woman he couldn’t ignore. I thought I was subtle. I wasn’t. I cringed now, remembering every ridiculous thing I’d done —extra makeup at family dinners, brushing my hand against his “by accident,” giggling too loudly, leaning too close. Desperate moves by a desperate girl. And of course, he always saw through it. No wonder he never took me seriously. Now I could barely look him in the face without feeling like a child again. Or worse… a fool. “I just want him to see me,” I whispered. “Not as Daniel’s daughter. Not as a kid. As a woman.” Beatrice sat beside me, her tone softening. “Then see him,” she said quietly. “ Not on the screen but physically, let him see you, the real you. The grown version.” “If you want him to see you differently, you’ve got to act like it. Audacious. Grown. Bold.” I looked at her. “What happened to ‘this is wrong’? You were just scolding me.” She shrugged. “You clearly want him. It’s not going away. So maybe it’s time you stopped acting like a scared little girl and started owning your desire.” “Beatrice…” I sighed. “No, listen to me.” Her tone shifted, firm, unwavering. “Nothing good ever came from hiding. You want him? Go get him. But stop pretending like you don’t.” I blinked at her. This wasn’t the Beatrice who usually warned me off this obsession. This was someone… different. Someone who believed in me. A strange calm settled in my chest. Her support felt like armor. I shook my head. “You say that like it’s easy. What am I supposed to do? Ask my dad to schedule a date with him?” Beatrice groaned and threw her head back. “What am I going to do with you?” “I mean it,” I said, almost panicking. “What if I see him and freeze again? What if he still sees me as that bratty teenager who followed him around like a shadow?” “Relax,” she said, suddenly grinning like she had a plan. “Leave it to me.” “Wait, what?” “I’ll sort it out. Just be ready on Friday night, there’s a club opening at…” she replied reassuringly. “Beatrice, what does that have to do with what we’re talking about?” I cut in. “Didn’t I just tell you to trust me?” she said. “I do trust you, I just don’t understand what we’re going to the club for,” I replied, my voice laced with confusion… and something else I couldn’t name. “We’re going to the club to sing to the Lord…nonsense girl,” she scoffed, teasing like always. I blinked at her, a smile tugging at my lips. “Okay, Your Highness.” “Damn right.” We both laughed. But inside… my heart was pounding. Because this wasn’t just a night out. This was a risk. A bold, reckless move. And the truth was… I was scared. Scared he’d still see a girl… not the woman I was becoming. Scared that all my wanting, all my obsession, would crash into silence the moment his eyes met mine. I couldn’t bear that. I needed him to see me. Really see me. “What’s got you thinking lover girl?” Beatrice’s lips curved into a smirk. “Trust me… you’ll thank me when you see who’s going to be there.”