One Night, His Hidden Heir

Amelia’s POV I stared at my reflection in the mirror, tugging lightly at my dark brown waves. They fell in loose, natural curls over my shoulders, just the way I liked them. Effortless and nothing forced. My black dress hugged my curves the way it should, my silver heels glinting faintly in the soft bedroom light. A silver purse swung lightly over my arm, and my jewelry caught the light without screaming for attention. It was natural, simple and so me. Melanie and Sophia were already sprawled across my bed, grinning like they owned the world. Already tipsy, I'm sure. "Girl, you need to chill," Sophia said, handing Melanie the bottle of wine. "Forget him. He’s an ass. Honestly? You’re way too good for someone who’s already taken." I sighed, tugging at a strand of hair. "I just… I can’t believe I let myself be the other woman. How stupid does that make me?" "Distracted, maybe," Melanie said, waving a hand. "Not stupid. You’ve got one life. Tonight, we go out, drink, laugh, and forget everything. Deal?" I hesitated, glancing at my phone. The scholarship email hadn’t arrived yet. My third year depended on it, and I wanted to earn it all myself. No help from my parents, no strings attached. And now this guy… the one I thought actually liked me? Already taken. I couldn’t believe it. Melanie jumped up, grabbing my hand. "Come on! Drinks are waiting. Tonight, you live a little, Amelia!" I exhaled and smiled, swinging my purse over my shoulder. Maybe a little escape was exactly what I needed. Tonight, I’d let go. And maybe, just maybe, I’d laugh again. "Fine, come on." I rolled my eyes dramatically and then we left the house, making sure I had my keys. A cab came to pick us up and I scrolled through my phone, deleting the pictures I took of me and the asshole who had a girlfriend the entire time we were hooking up. I already blocked his social media platforms. We had s*x for f*****g sake. When the cab pulled up to the club, we paid and got out. The music was blaring loud enough to rattle my bones, bass thumping against my chest the moment we stepped inside. Neon lights flashed overhead, bodies pressed together on the dance floor, laughter and voices colliding into one chaotic hum. Sophia squealed, grabbing my arm. "Oh my God, I needed this." Melanie was already scanning the bar like a hunter. "Drinks first. Dancing later." I nodded, letting them pull me along. The club smelled like perfume, alcohol, and heat. The kind of place where problems were drowned in liquor and forgotten under flashing lights—at least for the night. We squeezed through the crowd and finally reached the bar. I leaned against it, exhaling slowly as the bartender approached. "What’ll it be?" he asked, shouting over the music. "Tequila," Melanie said immediately. "Make it three," Sophia added. I hesitated for half a second before nodding. "Yeah. Three." The glasses were lined up in front of us moments later. Clear liquid, a wedge of lime on the side. I stared at it longer than necessary, my thoughts drifting back to unanswered emails, blocked numbers, and the dull ache in my chest. Sophia nudged me. "Hey. No thinking tonight. Remember?" I picked up the shot glass. "No thinking." "Cheers!" Melanie said. We downed them in unison. The burn hit instantly, making my eyes water. I laughed despite myself, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "Okay," I said, coughing. "That was a terrible idea." Sophia grinned. "And the first of many." Another round followed. Then another. The tension in my shoulders slowly melted away, replaced by a warm buzz that spread through my veins. The music felt louder, the lights brighter. My worries dulled into background noise. Soon, we were on the dance floor. Sophia danced like no one was watching, Melanie moving with practiced confidence. I let myself sway, closing my eyes for a moment, letting the rhythm take over. For the first time in weeks, I wasn’t thinking about him. Or the scholarship. Or disappointing myself. When I opened my eyes, that’s when I noticed him. He stood near the edge of the floor, leaning casually against a pillar, drink in hand. Tall, broad shoulders, dark hair styled effortlessly like he hadn’t tried too hard, and still succeeded. His gaze wasn’t wandering like everyone else’s. It was focused, sharp and stuck... On me. My stomach flipped unexpectedly. I looked away, heat creeping up my neck. "Amelia." Melanie leaned in close, shouting in my ear. "That guy has been staring at you." "I know," I muttered, forcing a shrug. "Ignore him." But when I glanced back, he was still there. Still watching. His lips curved slightly, not a smile...more like a challenge. Sophia followed my gaze and laughed. "Oh, he’s hot-hot." "Don’t," I warned. "What?" she teased. "You’re single. Traumatized, but single." I shook my head, turning away, but my body betrayed me. My heart was racing now, pulse quickening for reasons I didn’t want to admit. Another song ended. I felt a presence behind me before I heard his voice. "Can I buy you a drink?" I turned slowly. Up close, he was worse. Better. Dark eyes. Strong jaw. A faint scent of something expensive and masculine clung to him. I swallowed. "I’m good." He raised an eyebrow, amused. "Didn’t say you weren’t." I huffed despite myself. "Smooth." "Honest." He lifted his glass slightly. "One drink. No expectations." That phrase hit something inside me. No expectations, no promises, no complications. I glanced at my friends. Melanie gave me a look that said finally, while Sophia mouthed, "Do it." "Fine," I said. "One drink won't hurt." His smile widened just a fraction. "I’m Karter." "Amelia." We walked to the bar together, close enough that I could feel his warmth beside me. He ordered without asking what I wanted, and somehow got it right. "How did you—" "Lucky guess." We stood there, shoulders brushing occasionally. Comfortable yet easy. "So," he said, turning to face me. "What are you running from tonight?" I blinked, caught off guard. "What makes you think I’m running?" "No one drinks tequila like that unless they are." I laughed softly. "Fair." He waited, patient, eyes never leaving mine. "Life," I said finally. "Disappointments. Men." "Ah." His lips twitched. "I apologize on behalf of my gender." "Too late for that." We stayed there and talked. About nothing and everything. Music, travel things we hated, things we wanted. He didn’t pry... didn’t push. And for once, I didn’t feel like I needed to explain myself. The alcohol we kept ordering blurred the edges of the world, his presence grounding and intoxicating all at once. When he leaned in slightly and asked, "Want to get out of here?" I should have said no, but I didn’t. I nodded. And just like that, the night shifted quietly, irrevocably... into something I never could have prepared for. The night air was cool against my skin as I stepped away from the club, the music muffled behind the heavy doors. I hugged Melanie and Sophia quickly, their knowing smiles burning into me. "Text us," Sophia said, eyes sparkling. "I will," I promised, even though I already knew I wouldn’t. Karter was waiting near a sleek gray SUV parked just off the curb. The driver opened the door without a word, and I slid inside, my pulse thudding loudly in my ears. Karter followed, the door closing with a soft, final click. The car pulled away almost immediately. Neither of us spoke. The city lights blurred past the tinted windows as silence stretched between us...thick, charged, anything but awkward. His presence filled the space, heat radiating from him. I could feel his gaze on me even before his hand moved. When it did, it was slow. His large hand settled on my thigh, fingers warm and steady, thumb brushing just above my knee. My breath caught involuntarily. I turned toward him, and he was already leaning in, his other hand cupping my jaw. The kiss was unhurried at first. Exploratory, like a question. Then it deepened. His lips moved against mine with quiet intensity, controlled yet demanding, like he was holding back something far more dangerous. I melted into it, fingers curling into his jacket as the world outside the SUV disappeared entirely. By the time the car came to a stop, I was breathless. The hotel lobby was dim and elegant, marble floors gleaming under soft lighting. Karter didn’t say a word as he stepped out first, then turned back to me. Before I could protest, or think... his arms slid beneath my knees and back, lifting me effortlessly. A surprised laugh escaped my lips as I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck. "Karter," I murmured. His gaze locked onto mine. "Trust me." The elevator was empty when we stepped inside. The doors slid shut, sealing us in our own quiet bubble. The second they closed, his mouth was on mine again, more urgent now, like the restraint was slipping. My back met the cool mirror, his body braced around me, protective and consuming. His hand slid into my ponytail, loosening it until my hair spilled freely over my shoulders. The contrast of his strength and gentleness sent a shiver straight through me. This wasn’t supposed to mean anything. I knew that. I felt it. But the way his forehead rested against mine, the way his breathing matched mine, the way his thumb brushed softly beneath my eye... it didn’t feel careless. It didn’t feel empty. It felt… dangerous. The elevator chimed softly, breaking the spell. He carried me down the hallway, the carpet muffling our steps, until a door opened and closed behind us. The room was quiet. Warm and intimate. He set me down slowly, like he didn’t want to let go yet. Like neither of us did. For just a moment, we stood there, foreheads touching, breaths mingling. "This doesn’t have to be more," he said quietly. "I know," I whispered. And yet, when he kissed me again, slower this time, deeper, it felt like something neither of us would forget. He carefully moved us, his hands sliding down to my ass and I gripped onto his shoulders, slowly stepping back as he guided me. ... Karter’s POV I hadn’t been this aware of someone in a long time. Not like this. The door barely closed before we were on each other, hands everywhere, mouths desperate, like the air between us had turned thin. Her fingers fumbled with my jacket, impatient, breathless, and I realized, dimly... that I wasn’t drunk. Not anymore. Whatever haze the alcohol had given me was gone, burned away by her. By the way she kissed me like she wasn’t trying to impress or claim, just feel. By the way her body fit against mine as if it had always known where to go. I backed her toward the bed without thinking, my hands sliding over her waist, memorizing the curve of her hips. Slim, yes... but undeniably soft where it mattered. Real and warm. She gasped softly when I kissed her neck, the sound sending a sharp jolt straight through me. Goosebumps rose on my skin, not from want alone, but from something far more dangerous. Intimacy. I breathed her in, subtle perfume, clean skin, something uniquely hers. It was intoxicating in a way no drink had ever been. "This is supposed to be nothing," I murmured against her skin, more to myself than her. She didn’t answer with words. Her hands slid up my arms, nails grazing lightly, sending fire down my spine. I groaned quietly, my control fraying in ways I wasn’t used to. I’d always been good at distance. At detachment. She was unraveling that with frightening ease. I guided her down onto the bed slowly, like I needed the time to convince myself this wasn’t a mistake. She watched me with dark, steady eyes as I tugged the hem of her dress down, inch by inch, reverent instead of rushed. Beautiful didn’t even begin to cover it. The way she trusted me enough to let me see her like this, the way her breath hitched when my lips traced her shoulder, her collarbone, the soft skin just below... it did something to me I didn’t have a name for. I paused then, forehead resting against hers, our breaths tangled together. "Tell me to stop," I said quietly. She shook her head, fingers curling into my shirt like she was anchoring herself to me. "Don’t." That was all it took. Not because I wanted her, though I did ... but because in that moment, I felt wanted in return. Not for my name. Not for what I owned. Just me. We stayed like that for a while... touching, exploring, learning, until the world narrowed to warmth and whispered breaths and the quiet understanding that this night would leave a mark. When the lights finally went out, it wasn’t reckless. It was inevitable. ... Morning came softly. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, warm against my face. I stirred, disoriented, until the weight against my chest grounded me. She was still there. Curled into my side like she belonged, her hair a dark spill across my arm, her breathing slow and even. Very peaceful. Something twisted low in my chest. I stared at the ceiling, a strange, unfamiliar heaviness settling in. This was supposed to mean nothing. But as I brushed my thumb gently along her shoulder,careful not to wake her... I knew one thing with absolute clarity. Nothing about this felt temporary. My phone vibrated against the nightstand. Once. I ignored it. It buzzed again, longer this time... and something in my chest tightened. I reached for it carefully, keeping my movements slow so I wouldn’t wake her. AVA: SOS. PLEASE. I sat up immediately. The room felt different in the pale morning light... quieter, heavier. Amelia stirred slightly, a soft sound leaving her lips as she shifted closer, her cheek pressing into my side. I stared down at her. Her hair was everywhere, wild and dark, partially veiling her face. The sheet was pulled up to her chest, covering her body, but the sight of her there... unguarded, peaceful, hit me harder than I expected. I shouldn’t have stayed. I shouldn’t have cared. But I did. My phone buzzed again. AVA: I really need you. Dad’s losing it. Please don’t ignore me. I closed my eyes briefly and exhaled through my nose. Family, obligation and being snapped back to reality. Carefully, I slipped out of bed and dressed quietly, every movement deliberate as I watched the sleeping frame on the bed. Before I could stop myself, I turned back and picked up my phone again. I took a picture. Not to remember the night, but to remember her. Her body was mostly hidden beneath the sheet, her face half-concealed by her hair, lips slightly parted in sleep. Anyone else would have seen nothing scandalous. Nothing revealing. But I knew better. I stared at the image for a moment longer than necessary before locking my phone. I didn’t wake her. That was the part I’d regret later. I scribbled a short note instead, leaving it on the nightstand where she’d see it when she woke. Had to leave unexpectedly. Thank you for last night. It felt insufficient. But it was all I allowed myself. As the door closed softly behind me, I told myself the same lie I always did. This was just another night. Another woman. Another memory I’d bury. I didn’t know then that five years wouldn’t be enough to forget her.