Morning came quietly, slipping through the cracks of Amara's thin curtains.
She rose before the sun fully touched the rooftops, careful not to wake Nina. Her sister was still asleep on the small bed beside hers, her face peaceful despite the tear stains that marked her cheeks.
Amara moved softly, her heart heavy but steady. She reheated the little rice they had left and left a note on the table:
"Eat, rest, and don't worry. I'll fix this I promise. Love, Mara."
She tied her hair into a loose bun, wore her faded jeans and work shirt, and stepped out into the morning chill.
The streets were still waking the sound of vendors setting up, the hum of early buses, and the faint scent of baked bread from the corner store.
At Sparkle Cleaners, she turned the sign to OPEN and exhaled slowly, her fingers brushing the countertop as though drawing strength from it.
But the thought that had kept her awake all night wouldn't leave her.
Nick.
He was one of her regular customers older, confident, always dressed in polished suits that smelled faintly of cologne and expensive wine. He had been after her for months, dropping compliments and sly offers that she always ignored.
Once, half-joking, half-serious, he had said,
"I'll give you a thousand dollars if you let me have you out for one night."
She'd laughed it off then, disgusted by the idea. But now, with her mother's bills rising and Nina's future hanging in the balance, the number felt louder in her head.
A thousand dollars.
Just one night.
She hated herself for even thinking it.
Amara sighed, sinking onto the stool behind the counter. "No," she whispered to herself. "Not yet."
She'd find another way.
That evening, just as she was about to close up, the sound of a familiar car engine made her heart skip.
Lucas's black car slowed to a stop outside her shop.
She blinked in surprise as he stepped out, wearing a simple grey sweater instead of his usual suits. He looked… softer tonight. Less like a billionaire, more like a man trying to breathe.
He smiled when he saw her. "Tell me you haven't eaten all the ice cream without me."
Amara laughed, shaking her head. "Again? You'll blame me when you have a running stomach."
"I'll risk it," he said with a grin. "I needed peace today and apparently, the ice cream helps me get that
She rolled her eyes, trying not to smile too much. "You're impossible, Mr. Lucas."
"Lucas," he corrected gently. "Just Lucas."
She hesitated, then nodded. "Alright… Lucas."
Inside the car, the air was warm and comfortable, the city lights flickering across their faces as they drove.
For a few minutes, they sat in silence not awkward, just calm.
Then Amara spoke softly, her voice uncertain. "Can I ask you something?"
He glanced at her. "Of course."
She hesitated, twisting her fingers in her lap. "I… um, I know this might sound unprofessional, but… would it be possible to get an advance payment for next month's work?"
Lucas's brows furrowed slightly. "You need money?"
Her throat tightened. "Just for something personal. My mom's… she's not well. The hospital bills are higher this month."
She kept her eyes down, embarrassed. "I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."
For a long moment, Lucas said nothing. Then he pulled the car to a gentle stop at a red light and turned to her.
"You don't have to explain," he said quietly. "I'll handle it."
Her head shot up. "What? No I didn't mean for you to"
"I didn't say I'd give it to you," he interrupted gently, smiling. "I said I'd advance it. You've earned that much trust."
The relief that washed through her was almost dizzying. "Thank you, Lucas. I don't know how to"
He shook his head. "Don't thank me. Just promise me you'll stop worrying for one night."
She smiled faintly. "That's harder than it sounds."
He chuckled softly, leaning back in his seat. "Then maybe I'll make it easier."
As the light turned green, he started driving again but this time, his mood had softened, playful even.
He reached toward her hair suddenly, pretending to pull something invisible from it.
"Ah, caught it," he said.
She frowned, confused. "Caught what?"
"The worry," he said, opening his palm dramatically. "Now I'm throwing it out the window."
Amara burst into laughter. "You're ridiculous!"
"Ridiculously charming," he corrected, grinning.
She laughed again, shaking her head. "You're lucky you're rich, or that joke would've failed terribly."
"Ah, so I need money to make you laugh?" he teased.
"No," she said softly, smiling. "Just sincerity."
He looked at her for a moment really looked. "Then I guess I'm learning."
The car filled with quiet laughter, easy and light. For the first time in weeks, Amara felt her chest unclench like she could breathe again.
They didn't talk about the pain, or the bills, or the choices waiting for her. For one night, she just allowed herself to exist beside someone who made the world feel gentler.
And Lucas felt at ease …following the problems and unpeaceful behavior of Cole ..he felt at peace
********************
The drive back was quiet not awkward, but charged with something she couldn't name.
The city lights blurred past the window, their reflection flickering over Lucas's face. He looked different tonight softer, yet harder to read.
When they stopped outside her street, the air between them thickened. Neither moved to leave.
Amara turned to thank him, but the words never came. Lucas's gaze held hers steady, questioning, almost trembling at the edges.
Before she could look away, he reached out, his hand brushing her cheek. The warmth of his palm sent a tremor through her.
"Amara…" he whispered, her name a question and a confession at once.
Her breath caught. For a heartbeat, she forgot everything the bills, the noise, the ache of responsibility. There was only the sound of the night and the closeness of him.
When he leaned in, she didn't move. The world outside the car seemed to vanish as their lips met uncertain at first, then deepening with the kind of hunger that comes from too much restraint.
She hesitated just a moment her hand pressing against his chest as if to remind herself to breathe. But his touch was careful, almost reverent, and something in her softened.
The kiss grew slower, heavier with meaning rather than urgency. It wasn't about want; it was about escape.
About two people who had been holding on for too long, finally letting go for a second.
Then, as quickly as it had started, Amara pulled back, breathing hard.
He kept pacing, his movements a slow, deliberate burn. His hands slipped beneath her shirt, one palm splaying across the small of her back while the other wandered down her thigh-that slender, lovely thigh.
He looked at her with raw hunger.
His lips found her nipple, and he began to suckle, a low groan rumbling in his chest. Meanwhile, his fingers delved deep inside her, and her wetness slicked his hand.
"Oh, Amara," he whispered, his voice strained. ""Let me fuck you. Let me be inside you."
Amara couldn't hold back. She was already dripping for him.
Mr. Lucas.
Mr. Handsome.
Mr. Right.
He wasn't just handsome. There was something steady about him, something that had drawn her in before she even realized it. It was in the way his dark hair fell over his forehead, the calm strength of his jaw, and those deep, quiet eyes that seemed to read the thoughts she never voiced. When he looked at her, the world paused. His gaze was deliberate, a silent search for the truth beneath her surface.
The sharp sound of his belt buckle coming undone cut through the silence.
In one fluid motion, he drew her closer
and thrust into her, a gasp caught between their connected lips. His hands gripped her waist, anchoring her as he began to move.
Faster.
And faster.
All Amara could do was moan, a symphony of pleasure she had no wish to contain. "More," she screamed, the word a raw, desperate prayer. He obliged, his rhythm relentless, a tide she was happy to drown in.
"Don't tell anyone about this," he whispered against her skin, the words secret shared between each thrust.
Sooner than either expected, they collapsed, spent and breathless, tangled together in the aftermath of a shattering release.