Burning For A Stranger

Chapter Seven: Secrets Surface

(Elena's POV)

The morning after felt like waking from a dream I had no business having.

The sheets were tangled around my body, the air heavy with the scent of him dark, musky, addictive. My skin still hummed, marked by every place he’d touched me.

I should’ve been floating. Instead, I felt exposed.

Because lying there, in a bed too big and luxurious to be real, I knew this wasn’t my world. And he wasn’t my man.

He slept beside me, half turned toward me, sheets hanging low on his hips. Even in sleep, he looked powerful, dangerous. His jaw tight, his chest rising and falling with steady discipline. Like control was so ingrained in him he didn’t let go even in his dreams.

I caught myself staring too long. My fingers twitched with the urge to trace the tattoo curling over his ribs, to press my lips against the sharp line of his collarbone.

But that wasn’t the deal.

One night. No names. No strings.

If I stayed… if I let him wake up and look at me with those piercing gray eyes again… I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep it up for just one night.

So I slipped out of bed.

Quietly. Carefully. My dress from last night lay crumpled on the floor. I pulled it on, smoothed it down, wincing at the bruises already blooming on my hips. Bruises I didn’t want to cover. They were proof. Proof that I’d stepped into fire and survived.

I found my heels by the door, my jacket tossed carelessly over a chair. My heart hammered as I slipped into them, each click of the heel against the hardwood sounding too loud, like it might wake him.

I paused once, glancing back.

The sight of his messy hair, lips parted in sleep, body sprawled like he owned the world burned into me. Something twisted in my chest, an ache I didn’t understand.

But I forced myself to turn away.

Because I couldn’t afford this. I couldn’t afford him. Whoever he was, whatever empire he ruled, I wasn’t going to be another one-night indulgence in his perfect life.

So I walked out. No note. No name. No trace.

The door clicked shut behind me, sealing it all away.

By the time I stepped onto the street, the early morning air biting at my skin, I told myself I’d forget him. Forget the night. Forget the way he made me feel like I was both nothing and everything at once.

It was just one night.

But deep down, I already knew the truth.

Some nights don’t let you forget.