chapter four
1553 Words
The sun had begun its slow descent, casting a golden hue over the endless ocean. The beachside venue had been transformed into an elegant paradise—twinkling string lights hung from palm trees, sleek white canopies lined the sand, and the rhythmic sound of the waves blended seamlessly with the soft music playing in the background. The air smelled of salt, citrus, and the faint sweetness of the signature cocktails being served.
Aria had been running around since she arrived, ensuring that everything was in perfect order. The VVIP guests were seated comfortably in their private lounge, the catering team was executing the menu flawlessly, and the entertainment was right on schedule.
And Aria?
She was glowing.
She had chosen a dress that made her feel both confident and effortlessly beautiful—a deep emerald green satin gown with a thigh-high slit, hugging her curves in all the right places. Her long, dark hair cascaded over one shoulder in soft waves, and the golden high heels she wore added just the right amount of sophistication.
She wasn’t sure if she had picked this dress for herself… or if a certain CEO’s words had influenced her decision.
As she made her way across the venue, ensuring everything was running smoothly, her eyes instinctively sought him out. And then—she froze.
Mr. Adrian Sinclair.
He stood near the bar, dressed in a tailored black suit with the top buttons of his shirt undone, revealing just a hint of his collarbone. He looked effortlessly refined, his presence commanding attention even in a room full of executives.
But that wasn’t what stopped her in her tracks.
It was the smile.
He was smiling. A rare, genuine smile. And for a moment, she thought—no, hoped—it was directed at her.
Her heart skipped.
But then doubt crept in. Was he smiling at her… or someone else?
She swallowed, forcing herself to refocus. This was a professional event, and she had a job to do.
A waitress passed by, balancing a tray of drinks, and Aria instinctively reached out, steadying it. “Take this to Mr. Sinclair,” she instructed. “Make sure he’s attended to properly.”
The waitress nodded and walked toward him.
Meanwhile, Adrian, as if sensing her presence, shifted his gaze. Their eyes met.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Then, slowly, he tilted his glass toward her in a silent toast before taking a sip, his expression unreadable.
The party continued—laughter and conversation filling the night air. Aria busied herself, making sure guests were comfortable, checking in with the catering team, and occasionally stealing glances at Adrian.
He, too, seemed to be keeping an eye on her.
When she finally had a moment to breathe, a waiter approached her with a cocktail. “From Mr. Sinclair,” he said, nodding toward Adrian, who was watching from across the room.
Aria accepted the drink, her fingers brushing against the cold glass.
So he was paying attention.
And suddenly, the night felt a little more exciting.
The night stretched on, laughter and music blending into the sound of the waves. The beachside party had reached its peak—guests were enjoying the entertainment, cocktails flowed endlessly, and the air was alive with an intoxicating energy.
Aria had been busy ensuring everything was running smoothly, but as she turned to check on Mr. Adrian, a member of the staff approached her hurriedly.
“Miss Aria,” he said. “Mr. Sinclair asked for you.”
Her brows furrowed. Why is he sending for me?
With measured steps, she made her way to where Adrian sat in one of the private lounge sections. His suit jacket was unbuttoned, his tie loosened, and there was a slight slouch in his posture that was unlike him. The usually sharp and composed CEO looked… relaxed. Too relaxed.
“Sir, are you okay?” she asked cautiously.
Adrian looked up at her, his dark eyes slightly hazy. “You came,” he murmured. “I sent for you.”
“Yes, you did,” she said softly, observing him carefully. He wasn’t outright drunk—he was holding himself together well—but there was a telltale laziness to his speech, the faintest hint of vulnerability in his expression.
A smirk tugged at his lips. “By the way… you look beautiful tonight.”
Aria’s breath hitched, but she quickly composed herself. “Thank you, sir.”
“Your dress…” He exhaled, eyes trailing over her gown before meeting her gaze again. “It’s gorgeous. Your boyfriend must be so lucky.”
Her lips parted slightly. Boyfriend?
She blinked, momentarily thrown off. Did he think she had one? Or was this just drunken talk?
Aria smiled politely, choosing her words carefully. “I… don’t have a boyfriend, sir.”
Adrian leaned forward slightly, his smirk deepening. “Really?” He paused, as if processing that information. Then, after a beat, he said, “How about we hang out tonight?”
Her heart stuttered.
What kind of hangout?
She tried to maintain her composure, glancing around to see if anyone was paying attention. Most people were too absorbed in the festivities to notice their exchange.
“Sir, maybe you should get some rest,” she suggested, her voice gentle but firm.
Adrian tilted his head, studying her. “Come on, Aria,” he coaxed. “Just for a little while. Maybe we can find somewhere quiet. Have a good time.”
Her pulse quickened.
It was clear now—he was intoxicated, his inhibitions loosened just enough for his words to blur the line between harmless teasing and something else.
She needed to leave. Now. Because if he kept looking at her like that, if he kept saying things that made her heart pound, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to resist the pull of temptation.
Before she could respond, Adrian suddenly reached for her hand.
“Dance with me.”
She froze.
His grip was firm yet warm, his touch sending an unexpected jolt through her. His request wasn’t loud, but it was enough to make her hyper-aware of the fact that they were in public.
People couldn’t notice.
Carefully, she glanced around. Most guests were still caught up in their conversations, but a few of them—VVIPs, executives, people who would talk—were nearby. She couldn’t afford to be the center of any rumors.
“Sir…” she started, her voice low.
Adrian squeezed her hand slightly, his eyes searching hers. “Just one dance,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “No one will notice.”
Aria swallowed hard.
Saying no to him right now felt impossible.
But saying yes?
That was dangerous.
Aria hesitated, her heart racing as Adrian’s fingers lightly traced over her palm. He was looking at her with an expression she had never seen before—soft, unguarded, and laced with something she couldn’t quite define.
Just one dance, she told herself. Then I’ll find a way to leave.
She forced a small smile and nodded. “Alright. But just for a little while.”
Adrian’s lips curved into a lazy grin as he pulled her toward the open dance floor. A slow, melodic tune played from the speakers, blending seamlessly with the ocean breeze. The moment they stepped onto the sand, his hands found her waist, while hers rested lightly on his shoulders.
It felt… surreal.
Here she was, swaying under the moonlight with her boss—the same man who rarely let his guard down, now holding her close, his breath warm against her temple.
“You’re a good dancer,” Adrian murmured, his voice slightly husky.
Aria chuckled nervously. “You’re just saying that because you’re drunk.”
He hummed in amusement, his grip tightening slightly. “Maybe. Or maybe I’ve been paying more attention to you than you think.”
Her breath hitched, but she quickly masked it with a soft laugh. “That sounds like something you’ll deny in the morning.”
Adrian tilted his head, as if considering her words. “Maybe.”
Their movements were slow, measured. To anyone watching, it was just an innocent dance. But to Aria, it felt like standing at the edge of something dangerous—something thrilling.
She needed to get away before she fell any deeper into this moment.
Just as the song was coming to an end, she leaned in slightly and whispered, “I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be back.”
Adrian loosened his hold, though his gaze lingered on her. “Don’t take too long.”
She nodded, slipping away before he could say anything else.
But she didn’t go to the bathroom.
Instead, she found his driver waiting nearby. “Mr. Sinclair had a little too much to drink,” she informed him. “Make sure he gets home safely.”
The driver nodded in understanding. “Of course, Miss Aria.”
She exhaled in relief, glancing back toward the party. Adrian was still standing on the dance floor, looking around as if waiting for her.
She turned away before their eyes could meet again.
It was best this way.
Because if she stayed any longer, she wasn’t sure she’d have the strength to walk away.
- Writer
