Cristian Rosales exhaled a puff of smoke as he watched, from the 45th floor of his office in the Rosales Tower, the city pulsing beneath his feet. The lights of the buildings shone like artificial constellations, and the ebb and flow of cars seemed to mark the heartbeat of a metropolis that never slept. He had only been back for two nights. Years ago, he had left for abroad—first to study, then to expand his family's business in Europe and Asia. But now he was back, not out of nostalgia… but for power.
For just a week, he had formally assumed the role of CEO of Grupo Rosales, an international hotel empire with investments in tourism, real estate, and recently, luxury mobility. However, this rise came with conditions. His father, Don Hernán Rosales, a relentless businessman, had imposed two demands before handing him full control: to get married before turning 31 and to produce a grandchild within five years.
The pressure was more than obvious. His younger brother, Óscar, 28 years old, didn't miss an opportunity to make it clear he was ready to take his place if Cristian failed. And Cristian, although confident in his business skills, had a weakness he shared with no one.
Women. Or rather, his body in front of them.
No matter how attractive, seductive, or willing they were, whenever he tried to get intimate, his body failed him. Doctors, therapists, even hypnosis… nothing worked. The diagnosis was clear: it wasn't physical. It was psychological. An inexplicable disconnection between his mind and his desire. A silent frustration that tormented him more than he admitted.
And yet… last night had been different.
He was at the hotel bar, alone, drinking with no expectations, when she appeared. Dark hair, wounded gaze, and lips begging for oblivion. They didn't exchange many words, but the chemistry was instant. He didn't understand how or why, but his body reacted to her with an almost wild intensity. Not only could he… he enjoyed it. Every second, every moan, every tremble of his body against hers. And now, remembering it, a wave of desire climbed his spine like an uncontrollable fire.
He felt the hardened bulge in his pants struggle against the fabric, seeking escape. "Damn…" he muttered under his breath, forcefully extinguishing the cigarette. He walked briskly toward the private lounge adjacent to his office. He closed the door behind him and leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.
He brought a hand to his face. What the hell was happening to him? He had gone from years of emotional impotence to being obsessed with a woman whose name he didn't even know. What did she have? Her scent? Her moans? The way she looked at him without fear or expectation?
Cristian lowered his gaze to his pants, now obviously tight. With a suppressed growl, he opened his belt, and as he let himself be carried away by the memory of her soft skin, her moist lips, and her total surrender, he collapsed onto the leather sofa.
It wasn't just sex.
It was liberation.
And for some unknown reason, she had awakened him.