One Night With the CEO

Chapter One: A Night to Forget

Isabella

I always thought my life was on the right track. Hard work, long hours, and a spotless reputation-it was supposed to mean something. But all it took was one entitled man's bruised ego to rip it all away.

"Ms. Reed, I'm afraid we have to let you go."

The words echoed in my head even as I downed my third whiskey at the dimly lit bar. The ice clinked against the glass, drowning beneath the burn of alcohol sliding down my throat. Fired. Just like that. Because I said no to the boss's spoiled, arrogant son.

I clenched my jaw, gripping my glass tighter. I should have known better than to trust that my hard work was enough. That being good at my job meant something in a world where power and connections ruled.

Mia sighed from across the small round table, stirring her cocktail absentmindedly. "You should have punched him in the face. I would've."

A small, humorless laugh escaped me. "Tempting. But I didn't want to give them another reason to blacklist me."

Not that it mattered. Getting fired in disgrace from Westford & Co. meant doors were already slamming shut before I even knocked.

Mia leaned forward, her dark eyes flickering with mischief. "You know what you need?"

I raised an eyebrow. "A new job? A million dollars?"

"Nope." She grinned. "A distraction. A one-night-only, no-strings-attached distraction."

I scoffed. "You mean sex."

"Exactly." She lifted her glass in a mock toast. "It's the universal cure for heartbreak, disappointment, and assholes with power complexes."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't deny that a tiny part of me considered it.

For once in my life, I had no plans, no stability, nothing to lose. Maybe Mia was right. Maybe just for tonight, I didn't have to be responsible Isabella Reed.

Maybe I could just... let go.

As if on cue, my gaze flickered toward the bar-and that's when I saw him.

A man who looked like sin itself.

He sat alone, a glass of whiskey in one hand, long fingers absently tracing the rim. Sharp cheekbones, a strong jawline, and piercing storm-gray eyes that met mine with an intensity that sent heat curling through my spine.

His tailored black suit hinted at wealth and power, but it was the way he carried himself-commanding, unapologetically confident-that made it impossible to look away.

Mia followed my gaze and let out a low whistle. "Well, damn. If you don't take that as a sign, I'll have to question your judgment."

I bit my lip.

For the first time in a long time, I ignored reason.

I took my glass and stood.

Adrian

I noticed her the second she walked in.

Long, wavy dark hair, striking emerald eyes, and a red dress that hugged her curves just right. She carried herself with a quiet confidence, but there was something else-something in the way she clutched her drink, the slight tension in her shoulders.

A woman trying to drown something out.

I could relate.

I wasn't here for company. I had enough of that in boardrooms and corporate dinners. But when she moved toward me, all slow steps and curiosity, I didn't look away.

She stopped at my side, setting her glass down on the bar. "You look like you could use another drink."

I smirked. "And you look like you could use a distraction."

A flicker of amusement crossed her face. "Maybe."

The bartender approached, and I nodded at her glass. "Another?"

She hesitated for a split second before nodding. "Why not?"

A woman who thought before she acted. Interesting.

The bartender refilled her glass, and she picked it up, swirling the amber liquid before taking a sip.

"What's your name?" she asked.

I studied her for a moment.

Names meant attachments. And attachments led to expectations.

"No names," I said smoothly.