Chapter 3: A Night of Bliss.

Bennett Landon

The meeting room was quiet, the air thick with anticipation. A group of executives sat in front of me, waiting for my decision.

I glanced at the proposal in my hands. Profits, expansion plans, projections. On paper, it all looked good. But something was off.

“This plan,” I said, tapping the document, “costs too much. Cut unnecessary expenses and focus on what actually brings in money.”

The lead executive nodded quickly. “Yes, Mr. Landon. We’ll fix it right away.”

I gave a small nod. “Good. Bring me a new version tomorrow.”

As the meeting ended, my assistant, Daniel, handed me my schedule. “Dinner with your parents in an hour,” he reminded me.

I sighed. “Of course.”

*************

The restaurant was elegant, the kind of place where deals were made over expensive wine and forced smiles.

My mother was already seated, her posture perfect. My father barely looked up, focused on his watch. Always impatient.

I slid into the seat across from them. “Mother, Father.” I acknowledged.

Regina Landon smiled “Bennett darling. You look tired”

“I'm busy. What’s this about?”

She held my gaze and replied “It’s time we talk about your future.”

I took a sip of my drink. “I didn’t realize my future needed discussing.”

Father let out a small grunt. “Everything needs discussing.”

Mother’s smile didn’t waver. “We’ve arranged your engagement.”

I set my glass down. “Have you?”

My parents always make decisions without my consent and expect me to comply with it. This is absolutely not new.

“Her name is Emily Windsor,” she continued watching me closely. “ She's well bred, intelligent and most importantly, the Windsors family's influence would be beneficial to our holdings. A perfect match.”

“What will the Windsors get in return?” I questioned taking another slip from my wine.

My father, always practical, answered. “ Security. Their finances have been… unstable. This ensures their survival and ours.”

I leaned back, fingers tapping against the table. This wasn’t surprising. It was just another business strategy. Marriage as a contract, nothing more.

But that didn’t mean I liked it.

“Marriage isn’t exactly a priority right now,” I said flatly. “I have more important things to focus on.”

My mother’s expression remained calm. “That’s why this is perfect for you, darling. You don’t have to focus on it. We’ll handle the details. You just show up.”

Father nodded in agreement. “This is about securing the future. Emotions don’t belong in business.”

Of course. Emotions were weaknesses.

I glanced between them, then exhaled slowly.

“Fine.”

Mother’s smile widened, victory flashing in her eyes. “I knew you’d see reason.”

I didn’t respond. My mind had already moved on. This was just another deal. One more responsibility to check off my list.

*************

I left dinner feeling… nothing.

That's the problem. I've not felt anything in years.

Ever since-

I hadn’t spoken about it in years, hadn’t let myself think too much about it. But every year, on this night, the weight pressed down on me.

It was the anniversary of my best friend’s death.

I used to drink to forget. To drown in alcohol until the memories faded.

But not tonight.

I just needed air.

The bar I chose was quiet, tucked away from the crowded parts of the city. A place where no one would bother me.

I sat at the counter, nodding to the bartender. “Whiskey, no ice.”

The glass was placed in front of me. I didn’t drink it.

Instead, my gaze moved across the room.

And then, I saw her.

She was sitting a few seats away, gripping her drink like it was the only thing keeping her together.

I recognized her immediately.

The first time I saw her at the fashion show, she had caught my attention, then, just for a little moment.

And now here she was.

She sat with her legs crossed, tossing back a shot. Her brunette hair was slightly tousled, as if she ran her fingers through it so many times. Yet it framed her face perfectly, highlighting her sharp cheekbones and tempting lips.

From the side, she looked effortlessly beautiful.

But somehow she looked wrecked.

I should have looked away, should have ignored whatever this was.

But I didn't.

Before I could stop myself, I found myself scooting closer. “Rough night, huh?”

She turned, her hazel eyes locking into mine. She looked sad.

She kept looking at me, her brows pulling together slightly, like she was trying to figure something out.

Then, her gaze dipped lower.

She’s staring at my lips.

Heat curled in my stomach at the realization.

For a brief second, I wondered if she’d say something. If she’d acknowledge that we had met before.

But instead, she let out a breath and turned to me fully, “You could say that.”

I leaned in slightly, studying her “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” she murmured. Her voice was slurred, barely above a whisper.

She kept murmuring something I couldn't quite hear, then suddenly stood up.

She took a step, but her balance wavered.

Before I could think, I reached out and steadied her.

She's already drunk?

She blinked up at me, her expression dazed. “I have to go.”

“Where do you stay? I asked, steadying her with one hand. “Let me drop you off.”

She didn't answer right away. Instead, her lips parted, and when she spoke her voice cracked a little

“I don't have anywhere to go. My family hates me,” she whimpered, surprising me with her words.

She kept murmuring something, her voice trailing off.

I exhaled, making a quick decision, “Let me drop you at a nearby hotel.”

She didn't respond. She just leaned slightly into me.

I led her out of the bar, settling her carefully into the back seat of my car.

She barely reacted, her head tilting against the window.

I started the engine and drove off.

By the time we arrived, I opened the back seat to see her eyes closed, her breathing even and shallow, but even in her sleep, she looked troubled.

What had she been through?

I let out a slow breath as I headed into the hotel and booked a room for her.

Then I returned, opening the passenger door, leaned down, and lifted her into my arms.

She was light, her body curling slightly against my chest as I carried her inside.

I laid her gently on the bed, then I realised her dress had ridden up slightly, revealing the smooth skin of her thighs.

My jaw tightened.

Oh no. This is tempting.

I quickly moved the fabric back down, forcing my gaze away. I wasn't that kind of man.

I turned to leave, but before I could step away, I felt a soft hand on my wrist.

Her hazel eyes fluttered open, heavy with exhaustion.

She stared at me for a long moment before her fingers tightened slightly around my wrist.

And then in a voice barely above a whisper, she asked, “can you please kiss me?”

For a moment, I just stared at her. Her eyes held Something raw, broken. It made it impossible to say no.

I cupped her face, then captured her soft lips into a deep, lingering kiss.

And in that moment, I knew.

Something inside me had shifted.