His own to have

CHAPTER 1 MYSTERY MAN TERESA’s POV The rain drummed steadily against the cab’s roof as we pull up to the hotel. “We’re here, miss,” the cab driver announces, his voice breaking through my fog of uncertainty. I look down at my outfit, a simple, elegant dress that hugs me like a glove without being overly revealing. It’s a bit out of place for this part of town, and I can sense the driver’s judgment. He likely wonders what a woman like me is doing here so late, in a neighborhood where the clock has long struck eleven. I steel myself, my purpose stronger than any doubts in his eyes. I’m not here for what he assumes, I’m here to save my brother. The driver steps out of the cab, surprising me by opening my door. The small gesture nearly brings tears to my eyes, but I swallow them back. Tears won’t help me now. Taking a deep breath, I step out into the damp night, the cool breeze immediately sending a shiver up my spine. The scent of rain-soaked asphalt and the distant sounds of the city remind me of the lengths I’m willing to go through for Jovan. With a tight smile, I turn back and give a nod of gratitude to the driver. He hesitates, giving me a long look, as if reconsidering his assumptions, but I quickly look away, my focus shifting to the looming entrance of the hotel in front of me. I would have walked through a storm to get here, and in a way, it feels as though I already have. But here I am, determined and more resolved than ever. Music from a club somewhere within the building filters through the doors, mingling with laughter and the sounds of heels on polished floors. Ignoring the scene outside—where intoxicated men grope at women, their laughter loud and careless—I step forward. Each step toward the hotel makes my resolve harden. It’s these wealthy, careless men, these powerful families who think of others as their playthings, that I hold a grudge against. I’ve known what it feels like to be judged by them, to feel less, and I hate them for it. My phone buzzes in my hand, jolting me out of my thoughts. It’s a message from Emma, a reminder of why I’m here. Her words bring a slight smile to my lips. “You’ve got this, Teresa! You’re stronger than all of this! I love you.” I cling to her message, taking one last deep breath before pushing through the revolving doors. Jovan’s surgery could change everything, and nothing, not even this, will stop me. “Room 90” I murmur to myself trying not to forget the particular number, as I walk through the hotel lobby, weaving around groups of people. The number echoes in my mind, like a drumbeat, as I near the elevator, my heart became chaotic mix of nerves and anticipation. I’ve made my choice, and I’m going to follow through. The elevator doors open with a soft ding, and I step inside, pressing the button for the correct floor. The lobby’s warmth fades as I enter, replaced by a thick, fragrant aroma that’s almost intoxicating. It feels foreign yet alluring, something I can’t put my finger on. “Come in… you’re not here to stand at the exit” a deep, commanding voice calls out as I near the door. I pause for a moment, a strange mix of anxiety and fascination bubbling up in me. The lavish space is dimly lit, filled with rich furnishings and scents that cloud my mind. But all of it fades away when my eyes finally meet his. He stands there with a kind of confidence that leaves me feeling both afraid and strangely drawn in. Clad in just black boxers, his body is imposing yet graceful, and he has a presence that somehow fills every corner of the room. Dropping my coat and bag on the floor, I can feel the heat of his gaze, intense and probing. “Take off your clothes and go to the bed” he says with a calm authority, his voice as commanding as his posture. I hesitate, swallowing hard but managing a slight nod. The compulsion to obey him is unsettling, yet undeniable. My fingers reach for the strap of my red dress, and he moves toward the window, pouring himself a drink, the soft clink of ice in the glass piercing the silence as I fumble with the zipper. “So, what brings you here?” he asks, turning back to look at me with a smirk as I step out of the gown. I’m acutely aware of every inch of my skin, exposed and vulnerable, yet unable to look away from him as he draws closer. His intense gaze meets mine, and a slight chill dances down my spine as I respond, “I’m here to do my job…” He chuckles, as if enjoying my discomfort. “This is your first time, isn’t it?” His voice is softer, almost taunting, and he lets the question linger. I open my mouth to answer but am cut short as he moves closer, his figure blocking out everything else in the room. Suddenly, his fingers brush my arm, bringing up my goosebumps to life, I couldn’t help myself as I gasp. There’s something electric in his touch, and I’m lost in it, unable to pull myself back to the moment. My breath hitches, but my mind drifts to my brother, Jovan, fighting for his life in a hospital bed, and the guilt of what I’m doing here crashes over me. I have to stay focused; I’m here for a reason. I can’t lose sight of that. Then, as if sensing my shift, he steps back, looking at me with a question in his eyes. “Wait,” I blurt out trying to stall a bit to gather as much courage as I could “What’s your name?” I had no idea how the question came out but it just did. In this line of Job it was almost some sort of a taboo to know any personal detail about the customers. Did I just get myself in a bind? He smirks to my surprise, as though amused by my question, and in a voice as smooth as velvet, he finally answers “Liam” His gaze darkens, and he adds, “And you my dear, will be sure to remember that” His voice lingers in the air, thick with a challenge that makes my pulse race. I couldn’t help but wonder if he’s done this a hundred times, or if, perhaps, there’s something new here for him, too. He closes the distance between us, and I feel his hand move to my shoulder, fingers brushing my skin with a gentleness that contradicts his powerful presence. The world outside fades further away with each second in his gaze, and for a moment, all I could do was breathe him in. “Close your eyes” he murmurs, his voice soft but commanding. I feel myself slipping into his words, a mixture of nerves and unexpected calm washing over me. As he leans closer, there’s a softness in his touch, a quiet, restrained tenderness I hadn’t expected. The evening stretches into a blur, and I find myself surrendering to his lead, every moment hazy, disorienting yet undeniably grounding. The world narrows until there’s only the sound of his breathing and the soft touch of his hand against my skin. Eventually, the silence pulls me under, and as sleep finds me, the room feels warmer, cocooned in an unexpected comfort. When I wake, a pale hue of dawn sneaks through the curtains, casting a faint light across the room. I lie still for a moment, blinking the events of the night before slipping back into focus. I felt an ache in my chest, a mix of regret and relief, knowing that what’s done is done. The weight of last night’s choices sat with me, grounding me, but I can’t ignore the lightness that tugged gently at the corners of my mind. The first thought that came to me was of Jovan, my brother, and the hope I was holding unto for him. This was for him, I reminded myself. Shifting quietly, I see the man from yesterday laying beside me, still asleep, his face softened in the morning light. He looks calm, almost vulnerable, and I realize with a pang of surprise that there’s something more here than I’d anticipated. Pushing the thoughts away, I carefully slip out of bed and find my dress and coat, trying to shake off the unexpected warmth settling in my chest. As I close the door behind me, the echo of the night before lingers, a mixture of loss, gain, and perhaps something else that I can’t quite name. The sky outside was clear now, the rain gone. With every step, the cool morning air wrapped itself around me, reminding me of the strength within, the reason I’m here. Jovan, I think to myself. For Jovan.