The rooftop restaurant was a haven of fairy lights and jazz, Valoria’s skyline a glittering backdrop. Cassandra wore a black dress, its neckline plunging, her confidence a shield against Liam’s shadow. Theo waited at a private table, his charcoal suit tailored to perfection, his eyes devouring her as she approached.

“You’re stunning,” he said, pulling out her chair, his fingers grazing her bare back, sparking heat. Dinner was a dance of words and glances, their chemistry a slow burn. He spoke of architecture, she of art, but their eyes said more, promising touches yet to come.

After dessert, he led her to the dance floor, his hands on her hips, her body molding to his. “You’re breaking my walls, Cassandra,” he murmured, his lips brushing her ear, his voice raw. Their kiss was electric, hidden in the crowd, her hands sliding under his jacket, feeling his heartbeat.

In his car, parked in a secluded garage, passion overtook them. Her dress hiked, his tie loosened, they moved together in the backseat, her gasps filling the space, his hands possessive, their lovemaking a desperate claim. “You’re mine,” he growled, and she surrendered, her heart echoing his words.

But as they caught their breath, Theo’s phone lit up—a message: You’re late, Arden. Pay up. His face hardened. “Business,” he said, too quick. Cassandra’s stomach twisted. Was he hiding something dangerous? And why had Liam been at his building?

Cassandra’s loft was a riot of color—canvases, fairy lights, and the scent of turpentine. She paced, Theo’s secrecy and Liam’s presence gnawing at her. When Theo arrived, rain-soaked, his eyes were stormy, his shirt clinging to his frame. “I needed to see you,” he said, stepping inside, his presence overwhelming.

“You can’t keep shutting me out,” she said, her voice trembling with love and fear. “What’s going on, Theo?”

He pulled her close, his lips crashing into hers, rain dripping onto the floor. “I’m caught in something,” he admitted, his voice raw. “A syndicate. They funded my early projects, but now they want more—control, deals. I’m trying to break free.”

Her heart ached, his vulnerability piercing her. “You should’ve told me,” she whispered, her hands on his face. Their kiss deepened, his hands peeling away her robe, lifting her onto a paint-splattered table. Her skin burned under his touch, his lips worshipping her curves, their lovemaking slow, soul-deep, her moans a song of trust and need.

After, as they lay tangled, Cassandra opened up. “Liam controlled me,” she said, her voice soft. “He broke me, Theo. I’m scared to trust again.” He kissed her forehead, promising safety, but her phone buzzed—a photo of them dancing, sent from Liam: You’ll always be mine.

Theo’s jaw clenched. “He won’t touch you,” he vowed, but as they held each other, a noise echoed outside—a car idling, headlights piercing the dark. Was Liam closing in?

Chapter 2: Canvas of the Heart

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