My Best Friend's CEO Uncle

"Relax..." "Babe, you're way too tense..." A low, gravelly sigh cut through the heavy air as a heavy, firm hand wrapped around Aliyah Keller’s wrist, pinning her palm flat against the cool, slick bathroom tiles. "...I can't exactly be gentle when you're fighting me like this." The sudden, overwhelming dominance in his voice made Aliyah’s entire body shiver, nearly causing her knees to buckle. It was too hot. Unbearably, suffocatingly hot... Thick, swirling steam from the shower completely blurred her vision. She couldn't clearly see the face of the man pressing her against the wall; she could only make out hard, uncompromising angles in the haze. A sharp, chiseled jawline. Broad, powerful shoulders. A straight, high bridge of a nose... Large hands, with thick, prominent knuckles. Her best friend Agatha hadn’t exaggerated at all. A guy built like this was a total powerhouse. From the moment they'd stumbled out of the club and into the hotel, they had moved from the lounge to the bedroom, and now here, yet the man showed zero signs of slowing down. How on earth was a random bartender she’d picked up in a moment of reckless heartbreak capable of this much stamina? Aliyah couldn't take much more. Her blue-gray eyes pricked with hot, frustrated tears as she let out a broken, breathless whimper. "W-when is this going to end?" Her voice lost all its defiance, sounding unbearably soft and pleading. Hearing that sent a dark, possessive flash through Luca Delacroix’s eyes. A heavy hand slid down to grip her waist, hoisting her up with ruthless efficiency. "Mmh..." Aliyah’s mind went completely blank for a split second. He pressed his lips against the shell of her ear, his voice a low, raspy growl that vibrated straight down her spine. "Be a good girl. Five more times, and then you can count it done." Aliyah clutched at the lingering shred of her sanity, parting her trembling lips. A voice cracked with exhaustion and pure disbelief slipped out. "O-one... two... five. I counted! C-can we be done now?" A low chuckle vibrated against her skin. Luca’s dark, fathomless eyes stared unblinkingly down at the flushed wreck in his arms. "Sweetheart, that isn't the kind of counting I meant." Aliyah froze, her brain stalling completely before she could process the words. Suddenly, a heavy hand caught her chin, forcing her face up. Luca’s lips came down hard, sealing off any further protests as he completely enveloped her in a wave of rich, intoxicating cologne and pure, overwhelming heat. The steam closed in, swallowing up the last of her rational thought. Until, finally, Aliyah completely blacked out from exhaustion... The next morning, harsh daylight sliced through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Aliyah was jolted awake by the sound of running water from the shower. She slowly cracked her eyes open and took in the devastation of the suite. The bathroom was just the beginning. The wreckage extended all the way out to the custom Italian leather sofa, the wet bar, and the sprawling king-sized bed. She felt like she had been run over by a semi-truck. Wait. Looking around, this wasn't just any ordinary room—it was a luxury penthouse suite at the Grand Azure. Six grand a night. That was more than three months of her salary. What kind of bartender s***h escort service charges rates like this?! Jeez, do bartenders make this kind of money nowadays? Coming to a place this expensive just for a hookup—is that even legal?! Ding-ling-ling— Her phone alarm shrieked from the nightstand, dragging her back to reality. Groaning, Aliyah reached blindly across the sheets, swiped the alarm off, and tossed the phone back down. As she did, her hand brushed against something rigid sitting right beside the lamp. It was a sleek, heavy corporate ID badge encased in polished crimson acrylic. She’d seen enough high-profile business mixers online to recognize one instantly. This was the VIP pass for the annual Global Tech and Finance Summit—exclusive to elite industry titans and billionaires. Right side: a crisp, intimidating professional portrait. Left side: credentials. Curiosity finally piercing through her hangover fog, Aliyah squinted at the photo ID card to see just what her mystery "bartender" actually looked like in broad daylight. She blinked once. Twice. Then her eyes went wide, absolute horror freezing every drop of blood in her veins. The good news: He was breathtakingly handsome. The bad news: He wasn't a bartender. The hellish, apocalyptic reality: She had just spent the night with her best friend's terrifying uncle, Luca Delacroix. The Delacroix family was absolute royalty in the city's high society. Their shipping and tech empire spanned half the continent, and Luca was the youngest, most ruthless corporate prodigy they’d ever produced—a self-made billionaire who had built his reputation on ice-cold precision and absolute control. Aliyah felt her soul leave her body. She had gone to a bar to drown her sorrows over a cheating ex, lost her mind, and accidentally treated one of the most powerful men in the country like cheap entertainment. And the absolute worst part? How on earth was she supposed to look Agatha in the eye ever again? Aliyah’s head throbbed violently. She wanted to time-travel back to last night and tape her own mouth shut. From inside the master bathroom, the sound of the shower began to die down. Panic overtook every rational thought. Run. Aliyah scrambled to pull her dress back on, but the moment she put weight on her legs, a sharp ache shot through her thighs, and she nearly collapsed back onto the floor. Damn it all. Agatha’s warnings echoed in her head: My uncle Luca is a total ice block! Completely traditional, completely cold, completely untouchable! So much for untouchable. Refusing to let a little physical agony stop her, Aliyah grabbed her purse, threw on her shoes, and bolted out the door of the penthouse like her life depended on it. Five minutes later, Aliyah stumbled out of the hotel lobby just as a sleek, ruby-red Porsche aggressively drifted to a halt right in front of her. The passenger door swung open to reveal Agatha Delacroix. Agatha looked effortlessly chic in an oatmeal-colored cashmere cape, her sharp features alive with curiosity until she caught sight of Aliyah’s disheveled state. "Babe? Why are you crawling out of a luxury hotel at the crack of dawn?" Agatha’s eyes dropped lower, suddenly locking onto a distinct cluster of deep red marks peeking out from the collar of Aliyah’s coat. Her jaw dropped. "Wait... Aliyah, what did you do last night—" Terrified that her best friend was about to scream out something incriminating in the middle of the street, Aliyah lunged forward, clapping both hands over Agatha’s mouth. "Aga! Don't finish that sentence. Just let me in the car, I am begging you. Dignity is dead." Giving a playful, knowing wink, Agatha peeled Aliyah’s hands away, shoved her into the passenger seat, and slammed the gas pedal down, launching the car away from the Grand Azure. As the hotel faded in the rearview mirror, Aliyah let out a long, shaky breath. Then she turned—only to find Agatha staring at her with wide, glowing, hyper-focused eyes. "Okay, spill. You left halfway through our sad-girl drinking session, texted me saying you found someone *much* more interesting, and vanished." Agatha leaned closer, grinning ear-to-ear. "Don't tell me you actually hired a model?" Aliyah choked on her own saliva, coughing violently as she shot her best friend a panicked, side-long look. "Aga... let's practice some discretion. Please." If Agatha ever found out that her wild one-night stand was with her own strict, untouchable uncle, she’d probably pass out right here on the highway. "Oh, come on, where's the fun in discretion?" Agatha waved a dismissive hand, her eyes sparkling with gossip. "Details! How was he? Was he worth breaking your good-girl streak for?" Experience? Aliyah had been too drunk to process most of it, but her body remembered plenty. The heavy, overwhelming weight of him. The complete lack of gentleness. The way those calloused hands had left her completely helpless... And worst of all, the way he’d actually tucked her in and made sure she was cleaned up afterward like some kind of terrifying, domestic overlord. Aliyah frantically pulled her collar up higher to hide the evidence. "No comment." "Boring!" Agatha groaned, though her mind was already racing. Knowing Aliyah—the ultimate straight-laced good girl who had never even kissed anyone outside of her toxic, now-former fiancé—finding a random hookup completely uncharacteristic. Something didn't add up. "Wait a minute. Are you telling me you just met this guy last night? Or were you two hiding something this whole time?" "Stop digging, just drive the car!" Aliyah groaned, burying her face in her hands. Aliyah's voice were trembling and her hands was shaking. What dumb thing has she done?!