A Night With The Ruthless Billionaire

Alex held my hand till we got to where a black SUV was packed. Then, I thought it was the people after us. But I was totally wrong. Alex brought a key out of his trouser pocket, trying the open the door of the SUV anfmd the rain started. He entered hastily , beckoning me to enter too.

The rain lashed against the windows of the black SUV as if it wanted to break through, a steady drumbeat to the chaos unfolding outside. Inside, the air felt thicker—stifling, charged with something I couldn't quite place.

My heart was beating too fast, too loud, drowning out everything else as I sat there, staring at Alex, trying to make sense of what was happening.

I could barely breathe.

He was so still, his jaw clenched tightly, eyes dark with concentration. But it wasn't just the tension in his posture that made my stomach twist. It was the gun. The cold steel of it glinting in the dim light, so out of place, so completely unlike the man I thought I knew.

"Alex," I said, my voice coming out hoarse, as if the question had been trapped in my throat. "What are you doing with that gun?"

For a moment, he didn't respond. His eyes flicked toward me, but they were hard, distant—like he was trying to make a decision. Then, slowly, he slipped the gun into a compartment beneath his seat, his face unreadable.

"It's for protection," he said, his voice low and controlled, as though it were the most casual statement in the world. But it wasn't. It couldn't be.

I couldn't take my eyes off the spot where the gun had been. My breath hitched as I tried to understand. "Protection from what? From who?" The words left my mouth before I could stop them, sharp with accusation, with fear. I knew that something had been off about him, but this... this was a different kind of off.

Alex turned toward me, his gaze locking onto mine, and I saw something flicker in his eyes—something almost like regret. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared. "I can't explain everything right now, Emma. Not here, not like this," he said, his voice tight with the weight of whatever secret he was holding. "But I will. I promise."

I could feel my pulse thudding in my ears. The distance between us felt like a chasm. I wanted to reach out, to pull him into me and make sense of it all. But his guarded expression kept me at bay. And the weight of the gun, the danger lurking just beyond the windows of the SUV, kept me in a cold, paralyzed state of confusion.

I pressed my lips together, fighting back the tears that threatened to well up. "I don't understand you, Alex," I whispered, more to myself than to him. The words tasted bitter on my tongue.

Alex stiffened, and I saw the muscles in his jaw tighten, his grip on the steering wheel hardening. For a moment, I thought he would snap—shout at me to stay quiet, to trust him. But he didn't. Instead, his eyes softened, and his hand—hesitant, almost unsure—reached across the space between us. His fingers brushed against mine, sending a bolt of warmth through me.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, his voice breaking slightly, as though the apology was for so much more than just the moment. "I never wanted you to doubt me. But there are things in my past—things I can't run from. Not anymore."

I stared at him, feeling the pull of his presence, the intensity of his words. A part of me wanted to believe him, wanted to trust that there was some deeper reason behind all of this—the gun, the secrecy, the shadows surrounding him. But another part of me—one that was painfully aware of the truth I didn't want to see—was terrified. Terrified of what I might uncover, and of what it might mean for us.

"I don't know if I can do this anymore, Alex," I whispered, feeling the sting of those words. It hurt more than I expected. But it was the truth. The further we went down this path, the more I felt like I was losing myself in the mystery of him. And I couldn't do that—not again.

His face tightened, but he didn't pull his hand away. Instead, he held my gaze, his eyes dark with emotion. "I won't let you go, Emma. Not like this. I promise you that."

The sincerity in his voice caught me off guard. My chest ached as I fought the urge to let the tears fall. The vulnerability in his words, the desperate honesty behind them—it was a side of Alex I hadn't seen before. And it made me wonder if I'd ever truly known him at all.

His gaze burned into mine, intense and unreadable. He pulled the SUV to a sudden stop, his eyes never leaving mine. The silence between us felt charged, every breath heavy with unspoken words.

"What happened?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, my heart pounding.

He didn't answer. Instead, he leaned closer, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. His touch was soft, lingering, sending a shiver down my spine. Before I could react, his hand cupped my breast, and he closed the space between us, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that stole my breath.

For a moment, I stiffened, memories of that night flashing through my mind. But the warmth of his touch, the tenderness in his kiss, melted my defenses. My heart raced, not from fear, but from the raw intensity of the moment. His hands found their way to my waist, pulling me closer, his touch firm yet gentle.

I broke the kiss, breathless, my mind spinning. "Alex, we can't... not now," I whispered, my voice shaky but resolute.

He paused, his eyes searching mine, filled with an emotion I couldn't quite name. His thumb traced the line of my jaw, his touch lingering as if memorizing the feel of my skin.

"Sorry," he murmured, his voice low and husky, laced with something deeper than desire.

He pulled back, the space between us now filled with an unspoken understanding. The tension hung heavy, the air thick with everything left unsaid.

"Oh! Am sorry, he said again, squeezing my hand and looking passionately at me. And he continued to drive.

For a long moment, we sat there in silence, the tension between us thick enough to suffocate. The rain continued to pour

outside, the distant sound of thunder echoing in the streets. I wanted to ask him more questions, to demand answers, but part of me was afraid of what he might say.

Instead, I turned away, staring out the window at the blurring lights of the city, trying to steady my breath. The night felt heavy, suffocating, like the weight of the world was pressing down on me. I didn't know who Alex really was anymore.

And the more I thought about it, the more I realized I didn't know if I even knew myself anymore.

---

The SUV came to a sudden stop, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. I turned to Alex, who was already looking at me with an unreadable expression. There was no warmth in his gaze now, just cold calculation.

"We're here," he said, his voice clipped.

I blinked, trying to shake off the confusion that still clung to me like fog. "Where's here?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

A strange flicker of emotion crossed his face—something unreadable, dark, but fleeting. He reached for the door, opening it with a quiet click. "Come on. We need to move quickly."

I hesitated, glancing down at my trembling hands before meeting his eyes. "What's going on, Alex? Who are these people? What do they want with you?"

His expression hardened, the wall returning, but there was a flicker of something else—fear, maybe? Or regret? Whatever it was, it was gone in an instant. "Trust me," he said, his voice soft but commanding. "I'll explain everything. But not here. Not now."

I wanted to argue, to demand the truth right then and there. But something in his eyes—something I couldn't name—told me I had no choice but to follow him. My heart twisted as I stepped out of the car, the air heavy with the promise of danger.

I followed him into the shadows of the alleyway, my pulse pounding in my throat. My thoughts were a storm of confusion, of fear, and yes, a part of me—despite everything—was still holding on to the faintest sliver of hope.

Maybe this was all part of the plan. Maybe there was still time to fix it.

But as the door of the abandoned building slammed shut behind us, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to change. And I wasn't sure if I was ready for it.