Entangled with the wrong man

~DRUSCILLA~

"Yes... there... oh... my... fuck... me!" I moan, gripping the sheets as that handsome devil digs into me. My body presses against his shoulder, moving in a rhythm so raw, so animal, the bed creaks beneath us.

I feel the edge of my orgasm, teasing me, my body trembling with it. And then... a voice.

"Hey... doll, it's morning."

My eyelids flutter open. He's there-handsome, infuriating, impossibly smug-leaning over me like I'm some rare artifact.

"Oh my God! Oh my God!" I jerk upright, heart hammering against my ribcage

.

Shit. It's just a dream.

I was having sex with handsome devil in my dream. 

Did I actually moan out loud? Did he hear me?

I avoid his eyes, scanning everything else in the room. I scramble to fix my dress, running my fingers through my hair, and reach for the door.

I need to end this-whatever this is-right now.

But his voice curls around my name, stopping me.

"Aren't you forgetting something, honey?"

I freeze, hand on the doorknob.

"What?" I manage to ask, trying to sound calm.

That infuriating smirk is back, that ridiculous, sex-laden smirk that makes my knees weak. He opens a drawer and pulls out a sleek card. He hands it to me. "Here. Whenever you feel like you need me."

I stare at it. Ivanov Rodriguez. So that's his name.

I clear my throat. "Well... I don't think I'll be needing this. Whatever yesterday was... it was a huge mistake." I fling the card at him. "I don't want to see you again. Ever. 

I'm getting married in two weeks."

His face darkens. Disappointment flickers across his perfect features.

I unlock the door and run. Outside, I press a hand to my chest, exhaling slowly.

The taxi ride is a blur. Manhattan speeds past in neon streaks and headlights. I lean back, trying to relax, but my heart refuses to settle.

I can't believe I spent a night in a stranger's bed. I can't believe I almost... gave myself to him. I even begged, in my dream, for his touch.

How cheap.

But damn it, if the sex in that dream wasn't fire...

Whoever Ivanov Rodriguez is, I need to avoid him. At all costs. Never see him again. Never cross paths with that dangerously handsome face.

But my body betrays me. My mind betrays me. Even two minutes away from him, I feel his hands, his lips, his heat. The way he held me, like I was precious, like I belonged entirely to him.

Every nerve in me is alive, every part of me burning. That mismatched-eyed devil is a fever I've never caught before.

The soft hum of the car stereo does nothing to soothe me. I roll down the window, letting the cold February breeze whip through my red hair, momentarily blurring my vision. I don't care.

One name keeps running through my mind: Ivanov Rodriguez.

When I finally arrive at the family house, the security guards are driving out, scanning the streets for me.

"Miss Druscilla!" Jake, head of security, comes running, relief written all over his face. "Where have you been? We've been-"

"I'm fine," I interrupt, slipping on my sunglasses.

"But your mother doesn't know that," he says, worry lacing his tone. "She's been worried sick!"

"Panicking won't solve anything," I reply smoothly, striding through the front door.

My step falters the moment I enter the living room. Mum stands near one of her abstract pieces, arms crossed, scolding Issac, Kaila, and Avery about-well, who knows? Safety, probably.

"Come on, Mum. You don't need to be this dramatic," I say, announcing my presence.

All eyes snap to me.

"Oh, there she is! The rebellious child!" Mum exclaims, hand raised theatrically.

I exhale sharply. Drama. Always drama.

Her gaze sweeps over my outfit: mini skirt, corset blouse-the remnants of last night's club attire.

"What is this?!" she yells. "Clothes? You call these clothes?!"

I shrug. "Clothes."

Her face twists in disgust. "When did you start wearing such... disrespectful outfits?"

I ignore her, letting my eyes land on Issac, my dear fiancé who abandoned me outside when I needed him most.

Surprisingly, Avery, who had been sitting far too close to Issac, moves to another couch. My brow lifts. Since when are they cozying up like that?

"I'm talking to you, young lady!" Mum snaps, pulling me back into focus.

I turn to her, rolling my eyes. Mum is aging, and she needs to stop yelling and carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"Stop giving me that look!" she shouts. "Who put you up to this?"

"Uhm...," Kaila clears her throat.

I blink my lashes at her to keep quiet but she ignores my body language.

"I did," Kaila blurts nervously before I can stop her.

Mum's frown deepens. "Kaila?"

"Yesterday was Cilia's   birthday," Kaila explains, rubbing her hands together. "And since she's getting married soon, I thought... Maybe we could have a little fun." She laughs nervously.  

"So we went to a Spanish club downtown."

Mum's face softens briefly, then hardens again. "So you decided to go to a club without telling me?"

"I'm not a child anymore," I shoot back, striding toward the stairs. "You don't get to control every little thing I do."

"Really?" Mum's voice follows me, sharp with disbelief.

"Yes. Why can't I have a little fun? You decide everything for me, all the time," I say, my shoulder stiff as I climb.

"Because I know what's good for you!" she shouts. "And you know the rules of this house."

I groan inwardly, pressing a hand to my forehead.

"You won't be allowed to see Kaila henceforth," she says, dropping a bomb.

I spin around, anger coiling in me. "Why?"

"She's a bad influence," Mum replies, as if that explains everything.

Kaila's sweet face looks terrified, eyes wide and pleading.

I smirk despite my fury, letting my gaze settle on Mum's calm, unflinching face.

"Yes," she says, finality ringing in her tone.

I turn to Issac, who has been silent the entire time. My chest rises and falls rapidly, fury and disbelief warring in me.

"Then I'm not sure I still want to marry Isaac," I say, voice low, dangerous, and trembling with fire. "Let's postpone the wedding date."