HIS AFTER-DARK SECRET

The first thing I noticed was the silence. Not the peaceful kind. This silence felt like the room itself was holding its breath, as if even the walls knew I had made a mistake and were waiting for me to admit it. I opened my eyes slowly. For a few seconds, I didn’t remember where I was. Then I felt the warmth beside me. My entire body went still. I turned my head. He was asleep. The stranger from last night. The man whose name I still wasn’t sure I wanted to know. He lay on his back, one arm resting above his head, completely unaware that I was staring at him like I had just discovered evidence of a crime. The faint morning light coming through the curtains touched his face, making him look less intimidating than he had the night before. That was almost worse, because last night, everything about him had felt dangerous. The confidence. The voice. The way he looked at me as though he could see every thought I was desperately trying to hide, and the way I had looked back. I closed my eyes. “Lisa, what the hell did you do?” I whispered it to myself. My memory came back in pieces. The rooftop bar. The champagne I hadn’t planned on drinking. The argument with my ex that had left me furious. The man sitting alone at the far end of the bar. His black suit. His watch. His eyes. I’d noticed him before he noticed me. Or at least, I’d thought he hadn’t noticed me. That was the problem. Everything about last night had felt like a decision made five minutes before I made it. I slowly sat up, pulling the sheet closer around myself. My dress was on the floor near the couch. One of my heels was underneath the table. The other was nowhere in sight. I stared at the scattered evidence of my terrible judgment and let out a quiet breath. I had always been careful. I wasn’t the woman who went home with strangers. I didn’t believe in meaningless nights. I didn’t trust easily, and after what Gina had done to me, I had promised myself that I would never again give someone enough access to hurt me. Yet here I was. In a stranger’s bedroom. Wearing nothing but a sheet, and wondering whether leaving without saying goodbye would be rude or simply smart. Smart won. I carefully climbed out of bed. The floor was cold beneath my feet. I found my dress, picked it up and froze when I noticed a small black mark near the hem. Great. I had ruined my favorite dress. I slipped it on anyway and searched for my missing shoe. Nothing. I crouched beside the bed. Still nothing. “Looking for this?” His voice came from behind me. I nearly jumped out of my skin. I turned. He was awake. He was watching me. His expression was unreadable, but there was something almost amused in his eyes. He held my missing heel in one hand. “You scared me.” “I noticed.” He sat up, resting his back against the headboard. I tried not to look at him for too long. I failed. There was something unfair about how effortlessly attractive he was. “You’re leaving.” It wasn’t a question. “Yes.” “Without saying goodbye?” I picked up my shoe from his hand. “Goodbye.” He raised an eyebrow. “That was quick.” “I thought you’d appreciate efficiency.” A small smile touched his mouth. It disappeared almost as quickly as it came. “What’s your name?” I hesitated. That should have been an easy question. Instead, it suddenly felt dangerous. “Lisa.” “Lisa.” The way he said my name made something twist inside me. “And you?” He looked at me for several seconds. “Davis.” Just Davis. No surname. No explanation. I slipped my shoe on. “Nice meeting you, Davis.” “Is it?” I looked at him. “What?” “Was it really nice meeting me?” I should have laughed. Instead, I remembered the night before. The attraction. The tension. The way neither of us had bothered pretending we weren’t interested. “It was a night,” I said. His eyes stayed on mine. “That’s all?” “That was the agreement.” “We never made an agreement.” “Exactly.” I reached for my handbag. He watched me cross the room. I could feel his gaze following me, and I hated how much I liked it. At the door, I stopped. I didn’t know why. Maybe some foolish part of me expected him to say something that would make me stay. He didn’t. He simply looked at me. Calm. Unreadable. Dangerously composed. I opened the door. “Lisa.” I turned. His expression had changed. Just slightly. “Don’t give your number to strangers.” I almost laughed. “You’re the stranger.” “I know.” There was something about the way he said it that made my smile disappear. I left. By the time I reached the elevator, my heart was beating too fast. I pressed the button repeatedly even though I knew that wasn’t going to make it arrive faster. When the doors finally opened, I stepped inside and leaned against the wall. Only then did I allow myself to breathe. “Never again.” I stared at my reflection in the polished elevator doors. My hair was a mess. My lipstick was gone, and there was a faint mark near my collarbone that made me immediately pull my hair forward. “Definitely never again.” My phone buzzed. I pulled it from my handbag. ANITA: Where are you??? Another message arrived. ANITA: Please tell me you didn’t do something stupid. I typed quickly. ME: I’m alive. Three dots appeared almost immediately. ANITA: That’s not an answer. I smiled despite myself. ME: I’ll tell you later. ANITA: Lisa. I could practically hear her voice. I locked my phone. The elevator doors opened. I walked into the lobby, trying to act like I hadn’t just spent the night with a man whose last name I didn’t know. I made it halfway across the marble floor before my phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn’t Anita. It was an unknown number. I frowned. There was one message. Unknown: You should not have gone home with him. I stopped walking. My stomach tightened. I looked around the lobby. People were coming and going. A businessman was speaking on his phone near the entrance. A couple stood beside the reception desk. A woman was checking her makeup in a compact mirror. Nobody looked suspicious. Another message arrived. Unknown: Forget last night. I stared at the screen. My fingers suddenly felt cold. How did someone know? I typed: Who is this? The message showed as read almost instantly. No response came. I looked back toward the elevators. For one irrational second, I considered going upstairs. Then I remembered Davis. His warning. Don’t give your number to strangers. My phone buzzed again. I looked down. This time, there was a photograph. My breath caught. It was me. Walking into the hotel last night. Beside me was Davis. Someone had taken the picture from across the street. Someone had been watching us. I zoomed in. The photograph was clear enough to show Davis’s face. Clear enough to show mine. That wasn’t what frightened me. It was the timestamp. 11:47 p.m. I remembered arriving at the hotel. I remembered Davis meeting me there. According to the photograph, someone had been following us before we even entered. I swallowed. Then another message appeared. Unknown: You think last night was an accident. It wasn’t. My heart stopped. I stared at those words until they blurred. The elevator behind me opened. I instinctively turned. A man in a gray coat stepped out. He looked directly at me. For one terrifying second, our eyes met. Then he turned and walked toward the exit. I looked down at my phone again. The conversation was gone. Every message. Every photograph. Deleted. I quickly searched my recent notifications. Nothing. It was as if the conversation had never existed. My hands trembled. I had no idea who had sent the messages. I didn’t know who had taken the photograph. I didn’t know why someone cared about one stupid night with a stranger. I knew one thing, however. Last night hadn’t been random. I just didn’t know yet that the man I had sworn never to see again was about to become the biggest part of my life. When I saw him again, I wouldn’t meet him in a hotel. I’d meet him across a boardroom table. He would be wearing an expensive black suit. Every person in the room would stand when he entered. The moment our eyes met, I would realize something that would make my blood run cold. Davis Reed wasn’t a stranger. He had known exactly who I was.