TWISTED VOWS

The sound of stilettos on marble echoed across the lobby like a challenge. Adrian King didn’t have to look up from his glass of scotch to know it was her. She always arrived late and made an entrance—like a goddamn storm in silk. And there she was again. Roxy Vale. Wearing a dress barely held together by strings and confidence, with curves that could drive a monk insane. She was the type of woman his world rejected. Loose. Unashamed. Dangerous. But he craved her. And that was exactly why he hated her. Roxy slid into the seat across from him in the dimly lit VIP lounge of the Carlton Penthouse like she owned the place. She crossed her legs slowly, deliberately, and he caught a flash of scarlet lace between her thighs. "I see you're still drinking alone," she purred, voice like velvet soaked in whiskey. "Better than catching whatever disease you’re probably harboring tonight," Adrian shot back, refusing to look at her. But his jaw was tense, and she noticed. "You're still such a gentleman, Adrian." Her laugh was low and rich, like sin in audio form. He finally looked up, eyes ice-cold but visibly struggling. "Why are you here?" "Why do you think?" she said. "Because you always want me to be." He hated how true that felt. Adrian King was a man of discipline. He built his billion-dollar empire on rules, control, and ruthlessness. But Roxy Vale was his one chaos. The woman he couldn’t erase from his head no matter how many times he reminded himself of who—what—she was. She wasn’t just a woman who slept around. She flaunted it. Whispered names of her lovers like trophies. Dared him to care. And still... every time she walked into a room, his world shifted. Tonight, she leaned in, letting her breasts nearly spill out as she whispered, “I f****d a French model yesterday. Want details?” "Don't," he growled. She smirked. "Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Mr. King." He drained his scotch and stood abruptly. “Don’t mistake lust for emotion. You’re a walking s*x toy, not a woman I’d ever keep.” Roxy stood too, following him. “And yet, you always come back to play with the toy.” He hated her. And wanted her so badly it felt like a disease. FLASHBACK: THE FIRST TIME The first time Adrian met her was at an exclusive charity event. She was arm-in-arm with a senator, but the moment their eyes met, something primal sparked. She’d cornered him in the hallway later, teasing him about his stiff collar and moral code. That night, they had kissed. Just once. A mistake. A kiss that never left his memory. Since then, she’d made it her mission to torment him. Appearing at his events. Seducing his business rivals. Smirking at him over champagne flutes. She wasn’t just any mistress. She was the devil in designer heels. Back in the present, Adrian stormed toward the elevators. She followed. Of course, she did. "Still running from temptation, or are you ready to admit you want to f**k me blind?" she asked, stepping into the elevator with him. The doors closed behind them with a ding. Adrian turned slowly, eyes narrowing. "Do you even remember their names, Roxy? All the men you w***e yourself to?" Her smile vanished for a split second. Then she recovered. “Some of them. The important ones... I call by their cocks.” He slammed the emergency stop. She gasped. In an instant, his hands were on her waist, backing her into the mirrored wall. His voice was low. Dangerous. “You drive me insane.” “You like it.” “I hate you.” “You still want me.” He stared at her. Then shoved his mouth against hers. The kiss was violence and desperation. Months—years—of denial unraveling in seconds. Her fingers tangled in his hair. His hands roamed down her back to her ass, pulling her flush against him. But he pulled away just before things escalated. Breathing heavy. Face flushed. “I shouldn’t...” he muttered. “But you will,” she whispered. And that was when he said it. The words neither of them expected. “I want you to be mine.” Roxy froze. “What?” “I don’t care who you’ve been with. I don’t care what you’ve done. Just stop it. Stay with me. Be mine.” Silence. Then laughter. She threw her head back and laughed so hard it echoed off the elevator walls. “You're serious?” she said between giggles. “You think I’m the kind of girl who gets kept?” Adrian’s face darkened. “You’ll come back,” he said coldly. “Maybe,” she said, stepping out as the elevator restarted. “Maybe not.” WEEKS LATER Adrian hadn’t seen Roxy in weeks. Until he got the text. “We need to talk. I'm late. Really late. And I think it’s yours.”