Chapter 4 Fuck

Lily’s Pov

I watched the door swing shut behind Aiden, his words echoing in the quiet of my studio.

“I’m not giving up on you, Lily. Not yet.”

The nerve of that man. Who did he think he was, walking in here, turning my world upside down with his arrogance and charm? My fingers trembled as I picked up the paintbrush again, but the stroke faltered, smudging the crimson streak I’d been working on.

Damn it.

I dropped the brush, letting it clatter against the floor. Aiden Cole was a storm I hadn’t asked for, a force of nature threatening to tear through everything I’d built for myself.

But the worst part? I didn’t hate the way it felt.

The next morning, I found myself at the gallery earlier than usual, hoping the routine would settle my nerves. The space was quiet, sunlight streaming through the tall windows, casting golden light on the pristine white walls and the pieces I’d spent months curating.

“Lily, you’ve got a delivery.”

I turned to see Margaret, the gallery owner, holding a sleek black envelope. She handed it to me with a curious look before heading off to deal with a customer.

The envelope was heavy, the kind of stationary that screamed wealth and importance. My name was written in bold, elegant script on the front.

I opened it carefully, pulling out a single piece of paper.

Dinner. 8 p.m. La Torretta. – Aiden

A flare of heat rose in my chest. The audacity of this man! He didn’t even bother to ask, just assumed I’d drop everything for him.

I crumpled the note in my hand, tossing it into the trash.

By the time the evening rolled around, I was still stewing over the invitation. I’d told myself I wouldn’t go, that I had better things to do than play into Aiden’s games.

But as the clock ticked closer to eight, I found myself pacing my apartment, my thoughts spiraling. What if this was my chance to finally put him in his place? To tell him once and for all that I wasn’t some toy for him to win?

Or, a treacherous voice in my mind whispered, what if this was something else entirely?

Before I could stop myself, I grabbed my coat and keys.

~

La Torretta was exactly what I expected, opulent and exclusive, the kind of place where the wealthy came to flaunt their status. I felt out of place the moment I stepped inside, my simple black dress a stark contrast to the glittering jewels and designer gowns around me.

Aiden was already seated at a private table near the window, looking impossibly handsome in a tailored suit. His dark hair was perfectly styled, his piercing blue eyes locking onto me the moment I entered.

He stood as I approached, pulling out my chair with an ease that spoke of old-world charm.

“You came,” he said, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Don’t get used to it,” I shot back, sitting down.

The waiter appeared almost immediately, and before I could even glance at the menu, Aiden ordered for both of us.

I raised an eyebrow. “You don’t even know what I like.”

“I know enough,” he said, his tone smooth. “And if I’m wrong, you can order whatever you want.”

His confidence was infuriating, but I couldn’t deny the flutter of excitement it stirred in me.

As the night went on, I found myself lowering my guard, just a little. Aiden was surprisingly easy to talk to when he wasn’t trying to be the arrogant billionaire I’d pegged him as. He asked questions about my art, about the inspiration behind my work, and for the first time, I saw a glimpse of something deeper in him.

“You don’t have to play the mysterious billionaire all the time, you know,” I said, sipping my wine.

He chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “And what should I play instead?”

“Try being human,” I suggested.

His smile faded slightly, and for a moment, he looked almost vulnerable.

“I’m not sure I remember how,” he admitted, his voice soft.

The honesty in his words caught me off guard, and I found myself leaning forward, wanting to know more. But before I could say anything, the moment passed, and Aiden was back to his confident self, steering the conversation toward lighter topics.

By the time dinner was over, I was more conflicted than ever. Aiden walked me to my car, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” he said as we reached the curb.

I nodded, unsure of what to say. Part of me wanted to tell him to leave me alone, to stop invading my carefully constructed world. But another part of me, a part I wasn’t ready to admit existed, wanted him to stay.

“Aiden,” I began, turning to face him.

He didn’t give me a chance to finish. His hand cupped my cheek, his touch warm and steady, and then his lips were on mine.

The kiss was everything I didn’t want to admit I’d been craving, demanding, passionate, and utterly consuming. For a moment, I let myself get lost in it, my hands clutching his jacket as his other arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer.

But then reality crashed back in, and I pulled away, my breath coming in short gasps.

“This is a mistake,” I said, stepping back.

“Is it?” he asked, his voice low and intense.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

Instead, I walked away in a haste as I got into my car and drove away, his kiss still burning on my lips and my heart pounding with questions I didn’t want to answer.