MARION

“Let’s meet today in Mikhail’s club. I’ve already texted him. He said he’ll be waiting,” Cyprian said.

Cyprian and Mikhail have been my two closest friends since high school. Mikhail had to return to Russia during our college days, but we kept in touch while I went to Yale University with Cyprian, who is an actor now.

“I wanted to rest this evening. I have a flight to catch tomorrow morning. I need to oversee things at my casino in Vegas,” I tell him.

“Marion, come on, it’s been a while since we last met for leisure like this. Liquor and women to fuck, man”. I laughed, shaking my head.

“Aren’t you the one with a movie coming up? You need to stay alert. And I don’t sleep with random women, that’s your style.”

“Come on, man, let’s have fun on Friday night. After all, it’s your jet. You can sleep comfortably”.

“Sure, I’ll come through.”

“That’s what I’m talking about! You owe me, remember? Today is the night to fulfill your promise, bro.”

“Okay. See you later.”

“Yep. More ladies at the club, I -” I end the call, shaking my head. He really talks too much for a man.

I leave my room, heading to the kitchen for breakfast. My chef is back, thank God.

“Morning, Boss,” he says.

“Morning, Chef Parker. Welcome back.”

He went to visit his daughter, who recently gave birth.

I’ve missed home-cooked meals. Now I can avoid takeouts.

“Thank you”

“Hope the family is doing well?” I asked while pouring coffee. Black. No sugar. No cream.

“Yes, Mr. Whitfield. Thank you for the bonus allowance, too.”

“No problem, I tend to keep you for a while before you retire.”

He laughs, saying. “Sure. It’s my pleasure to serve you.”

I nodded, taking my seat to enjoy my meal. Chef Parker has outdone himself: perfectly seared salmon with a light lemon glaze, scrambled eggs whipped to creamy perfection, golden-brown avocado toast, and a side of fresh berries. I poured a glass of orange juice and savored the aroma before I dug in.

I needed to go to the construction site. The goods have arrived from the supplier. Time to check if they’re worth the millions I paid.

As soon as I stood up from my seat, Paula breezed in, her heels clicking against the marble floor.

“Baby! I’ve missed you so much”. Not today, of all days. What does she want now?

I first met her at the premiere of Cyprian’s latest movie. She looked stunning that night. In fact, she’s always been pretty, the kind of model-type girl who turns heads effortlessly. She’s a social media influencer, so recognition comes naturally to her.

She spotted me immediately. I was standing with a producer friend of mine. She made her way over, knowing him, and he introduced her to me. I could tell she was interested. I went home with her that night. From the beginning, we agreed on one thing: no attachments.

But these days… she’s pushing. Pushing me to make a decision. And I know, sooner or later, I’ll have to. ASAP. Now back to the present.

“What’s up?” I asked her.

“Babe, can we go out tonight? My friends and I are going to have drinks at THE ACE,” she said, referring to Mikhail's club. “You can invite your friends too - after all, it's Mikhail’s,” she added, smiling brightly.

Those money-grabbing “friends” of hers? I’ll pass. Cyprian has slept with one of them. He told Mikhail and me.

I shook my head, running a hand through my hair. “Not tonight, Paula. I’m meeting with my boys there. You can go too, but I need to be alone with boys.” I said, with a final tone in my voice.

She pouts playfully. “You’re impossible.”

I smirked but didn’t argue, heading out towards the elevator to my awaiting SUV.

“Stephen, did you give my assistant Demetria’s address?’’ I asked once I took my seat at the back.

“Yes, Boss. I gave it to her.”

“Good”

I grab my phone and dial my assistant. “Mara, did the package get delivered?”

Mara’s voice comes through. “Yes, Mr. Whitfield. I confirmed with the Cartier team. Package delivered.”

“Okay”.

I leaned back and stared out the window as the city lights blurred past.

She didn’t call the number I slipped in with the flowers. Bold move. I smirked.

Damn, this woman… a wildfire.

And every wildfire needs to be tamed.

Coming back from the construction site, I feel the weight of the day settle across my shoulders. I’d walked the grounds, checked every shipment, and signed off on the goods. A few things still needed to be adjusted, so I put them in place before leaving. I don’t like loose ends, not when I’m flying out tomorrow.

Back at the penthouse, the city stretches out below me in glittering lights. I pour myself a drink, letting the burn of whiskey trace down my throat. Tomorrow, Vegas. Tonight, one last distraction.

I stood in front of the mirror, buttoning up a crisp black shirt. The fabric is smooth, tailored to fit perfectly across my shoulders. A Cartier watch slides onto my wrist, catching the dim light. I fasten the last button, run a hand through my hair, and reach for the leather jacket waiting on the chair. Tonight, it’s not about business, it’s about showing up.

Stephen was already waiting when I stepped out of the penthouse. Twenty minutes later, I stride into Mikhail’s club, the bass vibrating through the floor, lights cutting across the crowd in gold and crimson.

Cyprian spotted me first, lounging on one of the velvet couches in our private section, a drink already in his hand. Mikhail stood nearby, cigarette between his fingers, nodding in greeting.

“Finally,” Cyprian grins. “The billionaire himself.”

I smirked, sliding into the seat across from them. A server rushes over with a bottle of Macallan, already pouring. The banter begins: money, deals, women. The usual.

Not long after, Paula sweeps in. Red dress. Short. Eyes already searching for me. She’s not alone; two of her friends trailed behind, laughing too loudly, scanning the section like they owned it.

“Marion,” she purrs, pressing a kiss to my cheek before sitting too close. I leaned back, letting her talk, but my eyes flicked past her, restless. She doesn’t listen to instructions.

The night unfolds in flashes of neon and liquor. Cyprian is already flirting with one of Paula’s friends. Mikhail is on the phone, half-distracted, half-smiling.

And then, the energy shifts, sharp and dangerous, like a bomb is about to go off in the middle of the club.

She stepped inside, like she owned the place, black dress hugging her curves, chin tilted just enough to command attention without asking for it. She wore the necklace. A woman walked at her side, eyes sweeping the room like a bodyguard who knows exactly what kind of fire her friend is walking into.

The men at the nearest table stop mid-conversation. One even nudged his friend, nodding toward her. The women follow her with narrowed eyes, sizing her up, trying to figure out why suddenly all the light in the room bends toward her.

My grip tightens around the glass in my hand. I don’t breathe.

My glass stills halfway to my lips.

Paula leans in, tugging at my sleeve, her perfume sweet but suddenly suffocating. “Dance with me, baby.”

But my eyes are already locked across the club, on Demetria, who just spotted me.

And the look in her eyes… it isn’t fear. It isn’t a surprise.

It’s fire.