Jeremy's POV
By the time I reached the Vino Bar, it was already half past eight. The place was crowded but dim, the air thick with the smell of whisky and faint perfume.
I scanned the room, heart pounding harder than it should have. I hadn't seen Audrey in weeks, not like this. The thought of her being here, waiting, gave me a strange mix of hope and dread.
"Sir, can I get you something?" the bartender asked.
"Whisky," I said, eyes still moving from table to table. Minutes passed. No sign of her. Then I spotted Rosemary in a corner booth, waving me over.
"Where is she?" She asked, sliding into the seat beside me. I should be the one asking her that.
"She was here," a barter said. "She came in a little after eight. Had one drink. She looked… off. Angry, maybe. Then she left."
"Left?" Rosemary and I repeated. "Where?"
"I don't know. I thought she went to the restroom, but she never came back."
"What, no brother, you need to find her?" Rosemary said, whispering into my ears, and I couldn't believe she did that to her.
A knot formed in my chest. "You said she'd talk to me."
"I lied," Rosemary said, voice low. "I thought this would bring you two together without fighting."
I stood up so fast my glass tipped, spilling whisky across the table. "She shouldn't be out there alone. Not tonight," she said and agreed
"Jeremy—"
But I was already gone.
Outside, the night air hit me hard. I called her driver, no answer. I called again. Then Jason. Nothing.
For a long minute, I just stood there on the sidewalk, gripping my phone like it held the whole world together. Something felt wrong — deeply wrong.
And for the first time in a long time, it wasn't about the company or money or revenge.
It was about her.
Simon's POV
I was in my hotel room after taking a shower, and I was planning on meeting Audrey when someone opened my door like an angel. There she was,
Audrey was walking up to me, looking like a goddess, but when she got close, at first I thought she was drunk, but then she passed out, so I had to call the hotel medic. The doctor had said she'd been drugged, something slipped into her drink.
Seeing her like that—helpless, vulnerable—hurt more than I wanted to admit. I had built my whole life around control, around winning. Yet one glimpse of her lying there, and everything I'd built felt meaningless.
I rubbed a hand over my face. Who would dare drug her? I thought, fury simmering just below the surface. I would find out, and when I did, whoever was responsible would regret it.
I stood, ready to leave, but then paused at the doorway. For a moment, I looked back at her resting figure, the faint lines of exhaustion softening her usually unyielding expression.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, voice barely audible.
Audrey's POV
When I opened my eyes, the room was dim and quiet. The faint sound of footsteps told me Simon was leaving.
"Simon, don't go," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. The whisky or whatever was in the glass has not faded yet.
He turned immediately, concern flickering across his face. "Are you okay?"
"Yes… I'm fine," I said, sitting up. My heart was still unsteady, but not from weakness—from something else entirely. "Thank you."
He nodded, his gaze gentle. "It's nothing. The doctor said, You just need rest. Come on, let me take you home."
But home was the last place I wanted to be. The air between us was charged—alive. I didn't want the quiet warmth of this room to end. I reached for his hand before he could turn again.
"Let's have a drink, I swear I'm not drunk," I said. "Really, then let's get married," he said, and I smiled and said yes.
"See, you are clearly drunk; sober Audrey will never agree," Simon said. "Then come with me," I said, pulling him out of the hotel room. We had a drive around town and ended up in his hotel room again.
"Simon…" He looked down at our joined hands, his breath catching. "Audrey, what are you doing?"
I met his eyes. "I just… don't want to be alone. Not tonight."
He hesitated, torn between reason and the pull that had always been there—unspoken, undeniable. I could see it in his eyes, the same ache that lived in mine.
Before I could lose my courage, I rose on my toes and brushed my lips against his cheek. It was a whisper of a kiss, but it sent a shiver through me.
He stood still, his jaw tightening as he drew in a sharp breath. "You started it, Audrey, don't regret it later?" he asked quietly, his voice rough, almost strained.
"No, I won't," I said. "Are you sure?" I nodded.
For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. Then his control slipped. He cupped my face with both hands and drew me closer, his lips finding mine in a kiss that started soft and searching, then deepened into something that made the world fade away.
My fingers tangled in his shirt, feeling his heartbeat match mine. The tension between us melted into something fierce and tender all at once—every emotion, every secret we'd tried to bury spilling into that single moment.
The room seemed to hum around us, and all I could think was how right it felt how inevitable it had always been.