One second, the stranger and Reena were kissing each other against the door. The next, the stranger was walking her towards the bed, stumbling unsteadily without breaking the kiss, and their clothes fell on the floor with little care.
First, his coat was taken off by Reena. Then, his hands searched for the zipper of her dress. Within a second, Reena felt her back exposed to the cool air around her, making her shiver as her fingers twisted into his shirt, grounding herself as her lips crashed against his harsher, rougher, almost overwhelming.
It was a messy, breathless, and reckless kiss.
The city lights behind them stretched endlessly through the floor-to-ceiling windows, but neither of them looked. Not when the tension between them burned hotter. Not when every touch felt like a question with no intention of being answered.
A small moan escaped when the stranger pinned her down on the bed and shifted his hips just enough so his hardness rubbed against her clothed core.
"Can't get enough of me, Little One?" The stranger's whisper ghosted over her lips while fisting her hair against her scalp, its softness a sharp contrast to the force with which he tugged on her hair.
A strange kind of frustration enraged her. "Don't call me that… It's annoying." She hissed with the throbbing in her lower belly intensified.
The stranger let out a low deep chuckle, enough to make Reena feel shiver through her spine. "Then, what should I call you?"
She was about to say her name, to say that she is Reena Cole, but she stopped and thought for a moment. They are still practically strangers even though they kissed and made out at this point. Some kind of embarrassment stopped her from saying her name to this stranger. "Raya." She lied. "Just call me Raya."
"Cute. But I would like to call you 'Little One'." He replied, while tugging her behind her ear, softly and gently, completely opposite of the rough kiss they shared. "I think it suits you."
Reena clutched her hands into fist and hit his chest with a sift thud. "Bastard. Is it because you see me as small?"
"I see you as bold. Unhinged. Because it is rare for a woman to pounce on a man like me." He closed his teeth around her bottom lips and tugged hard enough to send a frisson of pain and pleasure spiraling through her body. "And I found small things like you to my likings."
Before Reena could protest, could yell, could fight, the stranger was already crashing his lips on her, more desperate, more harsher, as their tongue fought for dominance while his hand roamed over her every inch of skin.
Then he broke the kiss and kissed his way down her neck and chest, slowly tracing his teeth to her shoulder lace, pushing it down with his teeth slowly and deliberately. Reena was covering her mouth with her hand, trying not to let out any embarrassing sounds and gripping the sheets like it's her lifeline. However, it didn't go unnoticed by the stranger.
The stranger pulled back, unbuttoning his shirt. "Let it out. I need to know if I'm doing it right here." The sound of unbuckling the belt was enough for the breathless Reena, for her to lose her last strand of her composure and pull him closer towards her.
With that the night stretched on, slow, heated, and completely out of control. And somewhere between stolen breaths and blurred thoughts… Reena stopped thinking entirely that she had passed out in the middle. But she was sure it was because she was too drunk or too much pleasure consumed her on her first time.
The next day, the sunlight slipped through the curtains, soft but persistent, making Reena stirred with her head throbbed and her body felt… strange.
She felt heavy, warm, and slightly sore.
"…What the hell…" Her voice came out hoarse as she blinked slowly, trying to adjust to the brightness. For a moment, she didn't move. When she did, she immediately froze when her eyes dropped on the man beside her, shirtless under the cover. She blinked her eyes. Once. Twice. Thinking she was just imagining a man beside her, but no matter how many times she blinked or rubbed her eyes, the man was still there.
She crawled back, without noticing how little space she had on her side and fell down on the floor with a thud, making a groan in pain. Her legs were dangling up while her back hit the floor, making her realise that she was naked.
She panicked and sat properly on the floor, looking at the man who was still asleep under the blanket. With a slight hesitation, she lifted the blanket slightly, to check if the man was naked or not, only to her breath caught in silence when she realised the man was also naked.
She crawled practically in silence to gather her clothes and crawled toward the bathroom. When she reached towards the bathroom, she stood up from the floor. Then, she looked at her reflection through the mirror, only to gasp, she didn't even bother to tone it down because she was too shocked to even bother that.
Marks. Faint at first glance… but unmistakably noticeable. Along her collarbone. Her shoulders. Trailing lower. Small bruises. Bite marks. Hickeys. Her chest. Her stomach. She looked down this time, to see her thighs, knees, even ankles, with marks.
Her heart slammed against her ribs. "…No way." Her memories didn't come, it was not clear. Just fragments, heat, closeness, his voice, his hands, and then nothing came to her mind.
Her face burned. "Oh my God… don't tell me we actually—" She looked up too quickly and immediately, and regretted it as her head spun. "Shit…"
She quickly wore her clothes, not even bothering to wash up or get fresh, she just wanted to be out of this place. All she knew was something had happened… and the man on that bed? Definitely a monster.
Soon she finished wearing her clothes, and slowly and silently peeked out of the bathroom, to check the man just in case. Then she went out of the bathroom silently, there was the man still there, asleep. Calm. Unbothered. Just like last night had meant nothing.
Even in sleep, he looked composed. Untouchable. It annoyed her. "…Unbelievable." Reena pressed her lips together, her thoughts racing.
A stranger. A hotel. No memory. Marks, and hickeys all over her body.
Yeah.
There was only one logical conclusion. She dragged a hand down her face. "Great. Just great, Reena. You really outdid yourself this time." Her gaze fell on him again. Then slowly… shifted to his clothes. Then, to the room. Then to everything about him.
He looked expensive, put together, and experienced.
Experienced.
Her brows furrowed. "…Wait." A pause. Then, "Oh." Her expression changed. "Ohhh…" A realization hit her in the worst possible way. Her lips parted slightly in disbelief. "…Don't tell me…" She looked at him again, then the room, and back at him. "…He's a gigolo?"
Silence filled the room along with her brain. Then she nodded to herself. "Yeah. That makes sense."
Reena hit the back of her head softly herself. "Great, Reena. First, you went through a break up, then drunk with some stranger, and ended up on the bed with him. And that guy is a gigolo. You just need to get into another trouble again and again."
She looked around the room and found her handbag at the entrance door. She picked it up and opened, to find her wallet. "I guess, I have to pay him." She reached her wallet and checked inside and winced. "Well,…I'm actually broke."
A pause. Then she sighed and pulled out what she could. Not much. But enough. "Geez…This is so embarrassing." She placed the money on the bedside table, hesitating for a second. Then added one more note. Just in case.
"Sorry," she muttered under her breath. "And… thanks, I guess." She didn't wait, and didn't look back again. Because if she did, she might actually think about what she had done. And she really didn't want to.
With that, the door clicked shut behind her. And just like that— Reena walked away. Completely unaware… of who she had just spent the night with.
After two hours of Reena's escape, the man was stirred up by the sunlight and a quiet room. Too quiet.
The man, Rian Volkov, opened his eyes slowly, his senses sharpening almost instantly. Years of habit. Years of never allowing himself to wake up unguarded. And the first thing he felt was the emptiness beside him. His gaze shifted to the other side of the bed. Cold. Untouched. Gone.
For a moment, he didn't move. Just lay there, staring at the ceiling as fragments of the night before slipped back into place. Everything. Every detail. Her voice. Her attitude. Her boldness.
"…Little one. Raya…." The corner of his mouth twitched slightly, almost forming a smirk. "Raya…" He whispered again, without knowing the girl's name was not that.
Then his gaze shifted to the bedside table, and that was when he saw it. According to him, it was a little money, messily placed, not even counted properly, along with a slightly crumpled note, like the person who left them didn't even bother to make it look neat.
Rian stared at it. Silence filled the room again. Then slowly, he sat up, muttering to himself, "…What is this?" His voice was low. Calm. Too calm for the storm incoming.
He reached for the money and the note, picking it up between his fingers. His expression didn't change, but something in his eyes did. Darker. Sharper. Then, he unfolded the note and read it.
"Thanks for your service.
Didn't know you were a gigolo, but you were worth it.
— R"
At first, his expression didn't change. Cold. Composed. Unreadable. Then his eyes scanned the first line.
"Thanks for your service."
A pause. His brows drew together, just slightly. "…Service?" The word sat wrong. Very wrong. But he kept reading.
"Didn't know you were a gigolo,"
Silence. Complete silence. For a second, Rian didn't move at all. Then his eyes flicked back to the word. Gigolo.
Once. Twice. As if it might change if he read it again, but it didn't. A slow breath left him. Not calm. Not controlled. Dangerously quiet. "…She thinks I'm what now?"
There was no anger in his tone. And that was the problem. It was too calm. Too still. The kind of calm that came right before something snapped. His fingers tightened slightly around the paper, creasing it. But he didn't stop. He read the last line.
"But you were worth it."
That did it. Rian let out a short laugh. A low, sharp, disbelieving laugh. Then he looked at the money again. At the crumpled bills sitting on his hand like some kind of joke.
Then back at the note. "Worth it…" He repeated it slowly, like testing how it sounded out loud, like deciding whether to be insulted, or impressed.
Another quiet laugh escaped him, this one colder. "She paid me…" Not hired. Not negotiated. Not even asked. Just paid. Like it was already decided. Like he was just… part of the service. His gaze darkened, something dangerous settling behind his eyes.
For most men, this would be humiliating. But for Rian Volkov, this was something else entirely. Interesting. Very interesting.
He folded the note carefully this time, too carefully, as if it had suddenly become something important. Something personal. "She actually paid me." The room suddenly felt smaller. Tighter. Like the air itself knew something had just gone very, very wrong.
Suddenly, a phone rang. Sharp. Cutting through the silence. Rian didn't rush. He reached for it lazily, his expression already back to that unreadable calm. "Speak."
"Where the hell were you last night?" an authoritative voice snapped from the other end. "You missed your schedule."
Rian's gaze flicked once more to the empty bed. Then to the money in his hand. "Something came up… Got occupied," he replied simply.
A pause, then the voice on the other end lowered, dangerous. "You don't get 'occupied,' Volkov. Not without notice. Do you realise what kind of excuse you are giving me now?"
Rian didn't respond immediately. Instead, he leaned down slightly, reaching for his coat, and taking out something from it. A cold metal met his palm. His gun. One of his favourite tools.
He picked it up with ease, checking it out of pure instinct before setting it on the table beside the money. The contrast was almost laughable. Cash. And a weapon. Two completely different worlds.
"…It won't happen again," he said calmly. Another pause.
"Then keep the words and get back to business." the other voice responded and then the call ended just like that.
Silence returned in the room. Rian sat on the bed there for a moment, staring at the money… then at the note. Then at the empty space she left behind. His fingers tapped once against the table, slow, and measured.
"Reckless," he muttered, but there was no real annoyance in his tone. Only something darker. Something far more interesting. He picked up the note again, sliding it into his coat, as if it mattered, as if she mattered.
His gaze lifted toward the door, sharp, focused, focused and decided.
"I wouldn't even mind if you just left in silence, but since you gave me the name of being a gigolo, If you think I'm a gigolo… I'll show you how wrong you are." He stood up from the bed, and started to wear his clothes. "After all, we didn't even get to finish before you passed out on me. Let's see how long you can run, Little One."
In his mind he already set that, no one had ever mistaken him for something so low. And no one had ever walked away from him so easily. And this Little One is not going to escape from his grasp that easily.