Chapter 5

Lira's POV

Waking up in darkness felt surreal. It took me several seconds to remember everything that had happened last night—Connor's betrayal, the bar, the mysterious man, playing the violin, and then that wild sex on the piano.

God, did I really do that? Did good-girl Lira really turn into someone who sleeps with strangers? My cheeks burned, but strangely, I didn't feel an ounce of regret. On the contrary, I felt amazing.

My body ached pleasantly, especially my inner thighs and neck. He wasn't in bed, and his side was already cold. The room was unusually dark, as if all the curtains had been drawn.

I reached up to touch my neck, feeling a slight sting where he had bitten me. The area was slightly swollen, as if something had gently bitten into it.

I got out of bed and found my clothes neatly folded on a nearby chair—clearly not how we'd frantically removed them. I quickly dressed and went into the adjoining bathroom.

The woman in the mirror looked both exhausted and satisfied. I carefully examined the mark on my neck—two small red dots, like needle pricks. Did he really bite me? The bite felt strange, sending an odd pleasure down my spine every time I touched it.

It's too dark in here, suffocating. I walked to the nearest window, wanting to pull back the heavy curtains to let sunlight in. Just as I opened a small gap and sunlight spilled into the room, he suddenly appeared behind me.

His silent approach startled me, my heart skipping a beat. He was now close to me but didn't close the curtains, just stood there, studying my reaction.

"Good morning," he said, his voice deep and calm. In the morning light, I could see his eyes clearly—completely restored to blue-gray, with no trace of the amber gold from last night.

Was that an illusion? A hallucination from alcohol and passion?

His gaze slid from my eyes to my lips, then to the mark on my neck. The corner of his mouth turned up slightly, with obvious possessiveness and satisfaction.

"Breakfast?" he asked, extending his hand.

I hesitated. Logic told me to call a cab and leave, the sooner the better. But there was something inexplicably magnetic about him that I couldn't resist. It's not like we'll see each other again, might as well enjoy the moment.

"Sure," I nodded, placing my hand in his palm. His skin was abnormally hot, as if a fire burned inside him.

This scene is so awkward. First wild sex, now pretending to have a normal breakfast date?

He led me down an exquisite wooden staircase, and I maintained silence the whole way. Damn! What could I say?

The dining room was as impressive as the rest of the house—high-quality wooden furniture, minimalist but expensive decorations, and huge windows facing the forest. The table was set with a sumptuous breakfast—fruit, toast, cheese, coffee, and orange juice.

He pulled out a chair for me like an old-fashioned gentleman. "Wasn't sure what you liked, so I prepared some options."

"This is quite impressive." I glanced around at the elegant décor, unable to contain my curiosity. "How can you afford a place like this? You don't look much over thirty."

"Investments," he answered vaguely, with a mysterious smile. "I only moved here recently. I enjoy the forest's quiet."

During breakfast, I observed him secretly. His every move carried an elegant yet dangerous air. His fingers were long and strong, his way of holding his cup exuded control, and his gaze was focused as if trying to see into my soul.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, his gaze roaming frankly over my body, making my cheeks heat up.

"Very well," I nodded, suddenly finding it difficult to meet his eyes. "Your bed is comfortable."

"I'm glad to hear that." His gaze fixed on the bite mark on my neck, a flicker of emotion I couldn't interpret passing through his eyes. "I hope I wasn't too... rough."

"It's fine," I said quickly, my hand unconsciously touching the spot. "I actually liked it, to be honest."

Oh my God, did I really just say that? I almost wanted to crawl under the table.

Silence spread between us, the air filled with unspoken words. I felt the way he looked at me was too intense, as if he wanted to consume me whole.

"Tell me more about yourself," he suddenly asked. "What's your major? Your full name?"

These direct questions caught me off guard. Last night when we were having sex, he hadn't shown this kind of interest.

"That's not really important," I said dismissively. "Last night was great, but we both know this was just an encounter."

His expression suddenly turned cold. "You think I brought you home just for a one-night stand?"

I blinked, feeling bewildered. "Um... what else? We met at a bar, had drinks, came to your place..."

"So you do this often?" his voice carried obvious accusation, "Sleep with strangers and pretend nothing happened the next day?"

What the hell? Anger shot straight to my head. "Are you fucking kidding me? Are you calling me easy?"

"I'm trying to understand your thought process," he said, his expression as cold as a mask.

"There's nothing to understand!" I angrily retorted, pushing my chair back with a jarring noise. "People meet, they're attracted to each other, sometimes they have sex. This is the 21st century, not the Victorian era! I just found out my boyfriend of three years has been lying to me, so yes, I needed to blow off steam. Is there a problem with that?"

So the handsome jerk is still a jerk. Last night was a mistake.

He was silent for a few seconds, something like understanding flashing in his eyes. "I understand your situation," he finally said, his tone softening. "I just had different expectations for this morning."

My phone vibrated opportunely. It was Sophie, asking where I was. Thank God for saviors.

"I have to go," I stood up abruptly. "My friend is waiting for me."

I walked away with my phone, dialing Sophie's number. As I talked, I unconsciously moved toward the front door, instinctively wanting to escape this suddenly suffocating space.

"I'll be right there," I told Sophie, quickly hanging up. Then, without another glance at Nathan, I rushed out the door and ran down the long driveway toward the main road, as if ghosts were chasing me.

Only after getting into a cab did I realize my bra was still in his music room, probably on top of that damn piano. I instinctively thought about going back to get it, but immediately dismissed the idea. That cheap bra only cost twenty bucks, not worth seeing that self-righteous jerk again.