Claimed By The One I shouldn’t Want

Chapter One

~Arabelle~

"You keep saying you don't want me, Arabelle, but all I had to do was sit next to you and you're already squirming in your seat, rubbing your thighs shamelessly together like a wolf in heat," the wicked blend of velvet hit my ears as he leaned towards my ears causally.

Like he wasn't aware that this was a family gathering and more than ten pairs of eyes were intensely watching us.

My body tensed as his sizzling breath hit my ears. My teeth gritted together as I whispered.

"Davis Alexander Scott, I swear to God if you ruin my mother's birthday over your excessive dopamine high..." I let my hand rest casually on his thigh before gripping it hard. His breath hitched against my sends, sending a slight shiver down my spine. "... I will castrate you."

A second of silence passed and then came a breathless chuckle that made my stomach curl. He sat properly and I tried to retract my hand but cold fingers wrapped around my wrist.

My eyes dropped to the hand restraining my wrist then slowly darted up to those icy blue eyes.

He casually picked his glass of wine with his free hand. "Don't you think your threat would be more effective, if you illustrated properly, little sister?"

Before I could even register the words, he dropped my hand right on his zipper. My eyes widened as I felt his hard length twitch. My cheeks flamed as I sprang to my feet without thinking.

"You asshole!" I blurted, drawing the attention of everyone on the table to me. A wicked smirk played on those thin lips as he took a sip of his drink.

"Is everything okay, honey?" My mother's worried voice snapped me back to reality. Everyone was staring at me now, wondering why I abruptly made a scene.

My face burned in shame and I wanted the ground to just open up and swallow me in that moment.

"Don't worry, Sarah, I'm sure Arabelle must have been startled," Davis said smoothly and my fists curled. His eyes locked with mine, his brow arching in undisguised amusement. "Right... Belle?"

Belle.

My heart slowed by a beat. Memories flipped through my mind and I gripped my dress tightly. I forced myself to calm down.

"Pardon my manners, mom. I'll take my leave now," I apologized and grabbed my drink. No one tried to stop me as I walked away. I went to the back of the house, the poolside to clear my head.

I sat at the edge of the pool, letting my leg sink into the water. At this point, I didn't even care that half of my dress was soaking. All I could think about was how the hell I got myself into this mess in the first place.

I had been a good girl for so long. Studying, getting good grades, being helpful and of course,. indoors, just like my mother wanted. But the one night I decided to go astray, live a little like other girls my age, I ended up sleeping with my mother's fiancee's son..

God, Arabelle!

I still remembered the smell of cheap tequila and citrus cleaner, the way the club lights had bled into one another like melted stars.

I wasn’t supposed to be there.

That was the first rule I broke.

My mother had been out of town, my exams were finally over, and for once the house felt too quiet and suffocating. I told myself I only wanted to look, to feel what it was like to exist outside studies and schedules. One look and I'll be right back.

One drink turned into two. Two turned to four and by the time I knew it, I was lightheaded. Laughing like an i***t and dancing with whoever I pleased.

Until I crashed into something solid and a stromg arm wrapped around my waist to steady me.

"I'm so sorry I..." My body tensed the minute my eyes locked with those icy blue eyes. Even under the disco lights, he was almost ethereal. Shoulder length wavy jet black hair, a jawline that looked like it had been polished into place and those ridiculously hot piercings right above his slashed brows.

"Throwing yourself recklessly into the arms of a stranger isn't very ladylike, beautiful." I watched those words roll off his lips, completely melting in his arms.

I should have apologized at that moment and walked away but I didn't.

Instead, I smiled back like an i***t, entertaining the thought that he might be flirting with me.

"And what is this breathtaking stranger going to do with this reckless unladylike girl?" I teased, shamelessly throwing my hands over his shoulder. Those blue eyes searched mine deeply before he effortlessly swept me into his arms.

"Now wouldn't you love to know, princess?"

That was how I ended up in his private lounge, drinking with him.

We talked. About nothing and everything. Music, dreams, places we wanted to disappear to. He didn’t know my name; I didn’t know his. Boundaries didn’t exist that night, reality hadn’t yet inserted itself between us.

When he leaned closer, when his hand brushed mine, it was simply electrifying. Dangerous. Exhilarating.

I told myself it was just chemistry. Just one reckless night.

I didn’t think about consequences.

I didn’t stop him. Even as those lips greedily claimed mine.

And when I woke up the next morning, sunlight burning my eyes and dread curling in my stomach, he was gone. Disappeared into thin air with no trace of his existence. It was almost like everything between us had been as fantasy. So I left, believing I would never see him again.

Three weeks later, my mother sat me down in the living room, smiling brighter than I’d seen her in years.

“Belle,” she said softly, joy trembling in her voice. “I’m getting married.”

I remember nodding. Smiling. Squealing in excitement with her. And when my mother introduced me to her fiance, Alexander Scott, he hadn't been there. In fact, no one mentioned the existence of this son, until he showed up at the wedding in a white tux.

The memory slammed into me with brutal clarity. The chapel doors had opened, sunlight spilling across polished marble floors, soft music swelling as guests turned in their seats. I’d been smiling—happy, genuinely happy for my mother—for the first time in years.

Then he walked in.

Tall. Confident. Infuriatingly composed.

For a heartbeat, my mind refused to connect the dots. He looked different. Cleaner, older, dangerously out of this world but those eyes were unmistakable. That cold, glacial blue met mine from across the aisle, and the world went eerily quiet.

I couldn't breathe.

His gaze flicked over me slowly, intensely, as if savoring the moment my face drained of color. Recognition sparked in those eyes and I expected he would at least be as shocked as I was but a glint of cold amusement flickered in those eyes.

The corner of his mouth curved, just slightly, like he’d been waiting for this exact second.

I remember gripping the pew so hard my fingers hurt.

No. No, no, no…

He stopped in front of me and that familiar intoxicating scent of Jasmines hit my nostrils, confirming his identity all over again.

“Arabelle,” my mother whispered fondly beside me, squeezing my hand. “I want you to meet Alexander’s son, Davis.”

Son.

The word echoed in my skull, loud and merciless.

Davis stepped closer, extending a hand like a perfect gentleman, his voice smooth and polite, so different from the man who had murmured wicked promises into my ear months earlier.

“Nice to finally meet you,” he said, eyes never leaving mine. “I’ve heard so much about you… Belle.”

That nickname had nearly shattered me.

Probably because I could hear the unsaid words in that statement.

My Reckless Belle.

My hand shook as I placed it in his, the contact brief but scorching. His thumb brushed my knuckles, barely there, innocent to anyone watching, but I felt it everywhere.

In that instant, I understood.

He hadn’t disappeared that morning because I was meaningless.

He’d disappeared because he could.

Because fate, cruel, twisted fate, had already tied us together.

And now, sitting by the pool, drenched in my own shame, I realized that no amount of self-restraint, no amount of good-girl discipline, could undo the mess that night had started.