Prologue: Veil of Night.

Lie Blu Apartment.

Third Person POV.

“What would it take to convince you to go out with me tonight?” Aaliyah groaned, watching her best friend, Matilda, type away tirelessly at her computer. Matilda’s long light brown hair was messily piled on top of her head in a bun.

“Hellooo?” Aaliyah whined, desperation creeping into her voice.

Matilda pushed her round glasses up her straight nose and bit her pink lips in concentration, her brown eyes glued to her MacBook, ignoring Aaliyah’s pleas.

“Earth to Mal! Do you hear me?” Aaliyah waved her arms dramatically in front of Matilda’s face, but received no response. She knew if she didn’t intervene, her friend would be glued to that screen all weekend.

“I’m sure we can go another day, Aly,” Matilda finally replied, her gaze never leaving the screen. As much as she loved spending time with her best friend, she was too comfortable in her sweatpants and tee to consider getting dressed up tonight.

“Wow! A response!” Aaliyah shot back, sitting up straight. “I admire your dedication to work, but for once, can you please put down the scheduling and the other dreadfully boring tasks and have some actual fun?”

“Going out sounds nice, but I have something more important to do right now,” Matilda mumbled, taking a sip from her cup. She planned to rewatch Doom At Your Service after collating reports. This would be her fifth time through the series, but she couldn’t get enough of the drama.

Aaliyah stared intently at her friend, who was doing an impressive job of avoiding eye contact.

She’s lying.

“I guess something super special is happening at work?” Aaliyah asked, struggling to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

“Hmm… not exactly,” Matilda replied with a slight shrug.

“Any upcoming events?”

“I don’t think so.”

“In that case, do you have some secret, urgent business I don’t know about?”

“Nope.”

“So you can take a break!” Aaliyah beamed, her excitement palpable.

“Hmm… maybe,” Matilda mumbled, her lips pursed.

“Please, Mal? We haven’t had a girls’ night out in forever!” she pleaded, adopting her cutest voice.

Matilda turned to her friend with a defeated sigh, her cat-like eyes squinting as she clasped her hands together.

She could be SO dramatic!

“Does it have to be tonight?” Matilda asked, half-heartedly hoping to delay.

Her eyelids flew open, her warm hazel eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “Yes! It has to be tonight!” she declared, flashing a wide smile that showed off her dimples and pearly whites.

“Why?” Matilda asked sceptically, knowing Aaliyah was up to something.

Aaliyah tilted her head, her auburn curls bouncing as she placed a hand on her chest. “I heard that the hottest men show up on Friday nights,” she swooned.

Matilda couldn’t suppress a small smile; she had expected that much. “I thought you said it was going to be a girls’ night out?” she teased, raising an eyebrow.

“It is! It is!” Aaliyah replied quickly, “But it’s been ages since you had fun with someone other than me. Who knows? Someone might catch your eye.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“You know better than anyone that I’m not interested in one-night stands,” Matilda said, shaking her head dismissively.

“Who said anything about a one-night stand?” Aaliyah smirked. “But if you’re thinking that way, then I don’t see why not.” She winked. “I have a feeling tonight's going to be unforgettable.”

“Why do you think so?”

“Hmm, my intuition?” Aaliyah replied with a mischievous smile.

Matilda burst into laughter. “Intuition? YOUR intuition?” she clutched her stomach as she laughed harder. Aaliyah’s intuition had only ever led them into chaos, yet she still trusted it every single time.

Aaliyah rolled her eyes, unbothered by her friend’s teasing. “My intuition might be a bit off sometimes, but this time it’s different. I can feel it,” she insisted animatedly.

“You know how I feel about meeting men from clubs,” Matilda replied flatly.

“Fair enough, not everyone dares to live outside their mundane routine,” Aaliyah retorted, turning away in hopes of baiting her friend. “Some people never take risks, never try something new or meet someone different.” She shrugged casually.

Matilda rolled her eyes at Aaliyah’s obvious attempt to bait her. She was used to this tactic, and trying to poke at her ego had never worked before.

“You know that’s not going to work on me, right?” she replied smugly. “But since you clearly can’t live without me, I’ll go.”

“You will?!” Aaliyah clapped her hands in delight.

Matilda shut her MacBook with a firm nod. “I will.”

“Tonight, we’re going to be the hottest ladies at Inferno, my love,” Aaliyah winked, excitement radiating from her.

* * *

House of Willow.

“Welcome, Master Willow. The dinner table has been set, and your father awaits your presence.” The head maid bowed respectfully, her voice steady and formal.

“I’ve told you before,” Alaric replied, pausing beside her, “you don’t need to call me ‘Master.’” He had lost count of how many times he had tried to correct the staff, yet the title persisted.

The maid remained indifferent, her head still lowered. Per the Chairman’s directive, direct eye contact with the family was forbidden. “You will be addressed as ‘Master,’ for that is what you are, sir,” she said coldly, turning to lead the way to the dining hall.

“Good evening, Father,” Alaric greeted as he took his seat.

The dim ambiance of the dining hall did nothing to mask his father’s displeasure. After a brief glance, his father returned to his braised lamb, barely acknowledging Alaric’s presence. “You look terrible. Have you not been eating?” he asked, his tone sharp.

“I have,” Alaric replied curtly.

“And how about sleep? Are you getting enough?” His father prodded, swirling the red wine in his glass with an air of disdain.

“I do,” Alaric answered, irritation bubbling beneath the surface.

His father leaned back, placing the glass down with a heavy sigh. “With all the gossip articles about your antics, I’m surprised you find time for either,” he grunted, a frown etched on his face.

Alaric knew his father didn’t genuinely care for his well-being, a realisation that had settled like a stone in his stomach long ago. “Even if those articles were false, you wouldn’t believe me now, would you, Father?”

His father’s empty laugh echoed in the tense silence of the dining hall. “Believe you?! What I think is irrelevant. As long as the public believes those articles, that’s all that matters. I have no reason to trust your words.” He spat, venom lacing his voice.

Alaric studied his father, a small part of him hoping for some flicker of understanding. But as he searched his father’s eyes, he found only coldness. His father meant every word.

“Then what’s the point of sharing a meal with someone who doesn’t trust my truth? You’re just like the strangers who swallow whatever the media feeds them— a dog that eats anything, regardless of whether it’s food or trash.” He stood abruptly, glaring down at his father.

“Sit back down!” his father barked. “I’m not done speaking to you!”

“I am. Goodnight, Father.” He bowed mockingly and stormed out.

As Alaric stepped outside, his shoulders sagged, and his silver eyes reflected disappointment. His driver and personal assistant, Javier, greeted him with an encouraging smile as he opened the car door. “I’m guessing that didn’t go well.”

Alaric nodded, slipping into the car. He had known it would be a waste of time, yet he continued to give his father the benefit of the doubt each time he was summoned.

“Cheer up, man. I know just what you need,” Javier said from the front seat, a hint of mischief in his tone. “Inferno.”

* * *

Inferno Night Club.

Matilda cheered as Aaliyah twerked on the dance floor, the vibrant energy of the club swirling around them. Aaliyah was a vision in her black sparkling mini dress, which clung to her curves and accentuated her figure, while her blood-red heels elongated her already sexy legs. 

Matilda, in contrast, wore a red crop top and a mid-thigh black pencil skirt, completing her look with boots that gave her a boost in height.

Though they had barely been there an hour, they had already downed more tequila than was advisable. Their lips were painted red, and their eyes sparkled with mischief as they sang at the top of their lungs.

“They look like fun!” Javier shouted to Alaric, his gaze fixed on the tall woman in the seductive outfit that was twerking on who he hoped was a friend and not a date. 

“Should I invite them over?” He glanced at Alaric, who appeared bored. “Do whatever you want,” Alaric replied, his tone indifferent.

Javier’s attention drifted back to the captivating dancer. The way she moved was hypnotic, stirring an irresistible curiosity within him. He patted Alaric’s shoulder as he made his way down, eager to approach her.

“Can I buy you ladies a drink?” he asked, flashing a charming smile.

“No,” Matilda shot back without even looking at him, grabbing Aaliyah’s hand and preparing to leave. She wasn’t interested in any men tonight.

“Wait!” Javier called out, reaching out to stop them. “I promise, I’m not a creep…” He offered a friendly smile, meeting Matilda’s gaze, which radiated annoyance.

Aaliyah gently patted Matilda’s back, trying to lighten her mood. “Said every creep ever,” she quipped with a playful grin, locking eyes with Javier.

His gaze roamed over the enchanting goddess before him. Now that he was closer, he found her even more alluring. “My friend and I were wondering if we could join you two.” He gestured back to Alaric, still watching from above.

He’s sexy, Aaliyah thought, her intuition proving correct. She beamed at Matilda, nudging her to look at the captivating stranger.

Matilda glanced up at the stranger, who seemed utterly disinterested. “Eh,” she shrugged, feeling too tipsy to entertain any suitors tonight, but the mischievous glint in Aaliyah’s eye set off alarm bells in her mind.

“Aly, whatever you’re thinking, my answer is no,” she said, shaking her head repeatedly.

She had said no, yet here she stood in front of him.

Confusion knitted his thick eyebrows together as he felt her gaze travel over him. His stark black hair framed his oval face, enhancing the sharpness of his features. He towered over her. Even with her boots, she was no match for the tall man before her.

His broad shoulders and defined chest strained against the fabric of his black button-up. The undone buttons hinted at the muscles beneath, inviting her gaze.

When her eyes met his, disbelief washed over her. His silver eyes were mesmerising, the kind that made everything else fade into the background. The longer she stared, the more she felt the heat rising between them. Deep down, she knew this was a bad idea.

So how had she ended up here?

The man—whose name she was yet to know—led her into a dimly lit room. The heavy scent of alcohol hit her as she stepped inside, clinging to her like a fog. The table in the centre was cluttered with various bottles and overflowing ashtrays, a chaotic reflection of the night.

“What would you like to drink?” Alaric asked, moving deeper into the room.

The muffled thump of music echoed from below, but in this VIP lounge, the atmosphere was more intimate. He didn’t have to raise his voice for her to hear him.

Before she could respond, he grabbed a bottle. “You look like a vodka kind of girl.” He poured the clear liquid into a glass and approached her with purpose. Javier had always said that women loved a man who took charge, and he was eager to play the part.

Her brown eyes widened slightly, and she instinctively took a small step back. He halted before her, gesturing toward the exit. “The door is right there,” he said, his voice low and steady.

The last thing he wanted was to pressure her into something she didn’t want.

Matilda scoffed, stepping forward to close the space between them. “I prefer tequila, but vodka will do.” She snatched the glass from him, tilting her head back and downing it in one swift motion.

Just one night, Mal.

One night to escape the weight of her responsibilities as an uptight secretary.

Her demeanour shifted, fire igniting in her eyes as determination replaced the nervousness that had gripped her moments before.

He reached out, gently grasping her chin and tilting her head. His thumb brushed against her lips, a silent command she instinctively obeyed. Their eyes locked as he poured vodka straight from the bottle into her mouth.

The burn of the liquor seared her throat, but she focused on the dangerously alluring man before her. His cold gaze seemed to penetrate her very soul, as if he could see all her secrets.

He set the bottle down and watched her swallow every drop. “Good girl,” he murmured against her lips, leaning in for a kiss.

One night, Alaric.

Just one reckless night.