Bargained Hearts: When Mr. Coldhearted Turns Hopeless Romantic

Caught off guard, Kieran Ashford had not anticipated the kiss either. But the warmth of Millie's lips and the faint trace of jasmine clinging to her did not repel him, and for a fleeting second, instinct nearly urged him to respond.

Before that impulse could turn into action, Millie had already stepped back and created distance between them.

A faint edge entered his voice as he regarded her closely. He asked quietly, "Do you have any idea who I am, and you still choose to provoke me?"

His question hung in the air, but an answer never came, because Darren strode forward and pulled Millie firmly into his arms.

Unruffled, Kieran adjusted his cuff and offered a composed greeting. "Mr. Evans. I did not expect to see you here."

Recognition flashed across Darren's face, and his jaw hardened. "Mr. Ashford," he said, clearly displeased by the encounter.

Within Vantrelle's elite circle, two names carried equal weight and equal caution, and they belonged to Darren Evans of the Evans family and Kieran Ashford of the Ashford family. Since childhood, rivalry had defined their relationship, and as adults, that competition had only deepened into open hostility within the business world.

With a slight tilt of his head, Kieran gestured toward them. "Care to explain what is happening here?" he asked, though his gaze lingered briefly on the woman held against Darren.

The alcohol had clearly drained the strength from her limbs, and she appeared unsteady in Darren's hold, yet the softness of her mouth remained difficult to ignore.

Noticing the direction of Kieran's gaze, Darren tightened his hold and pressed Millie's face firmly against his chest, shielding her from view as though even a glance was too much to allow.

Instead of looking offended, Kieran lifted his thumb and brushed it lightly over his own lower lip, then let out a gentle chuckle. "It does not bother me. Opportunities like that do not come to everyone."

The deliberate way he lingered on the memory of the kiss made his intention obvious.

Although Darren immediately recognized it as a calculated provocation, his hand still curled into a tight fist before he forced himself to loosen it. Keeping his tone restrained, he said, "I will not take up more of your time, Mr. Ashford. I am taking her home."

With unhurried calm, Kieran tilted his head slightly. He replied, "From where I stand, Mrs. Evans does not appear eager to leave with you."

A chill entered Darren's voice as he responded, "This concerns my wife and me. Your opinion is irrelevant."

"Your wife?" Kieran asked with a faint, knowing smile. "I was under the impression that the two of you were preparing to end that arrangement."

Darkness gathered in Darren's eyes. "Are you attempting to take her from me?"

Unflinching, Kieran held his gaze and did not disguise the curiosity in his tone. "Mr. Evans, if you wish to keep something, then do not leave it within another man's reach."

A scoff slipped from Darren's lips. "You can forget about that." Without another word, he bent down, lifted Millie into his arms, and carried her straight toward the elevator.

…

High above the city, inside the penthouse suite of the Verve Hotel, the night felt unnaturally quiet. Carefully, Darren laid Millie down on the bed. Intoxication still clouded her senses, and a faint crease marked her brow as if even in her sleep she was troubled.

Almost without realizing it, he lifted his hand and tried to smooth away that small frown. However, when his fingers brushed against her lips, the memory of her kissing Kieran surged back into his mind.

A low question slipped from him before he could stop it. "Why did you kiss him?" The roughness in his tone surprised even him.

Unaware of his turmoil, Millie remained silent and unmoving.

Frustration coiled tighter in Darren's chest, growing sharper with every second. "Why would you kiss another man?"

The thought refused to leave him.

Restless even in sleep, Millie shifted and turned her face slightly, as if trying to retreat from whatever disturbed her dreams.

Before she could move farther, Darren caught her chin in his hand and held her in place. Driven by a surge of anger and something far more complicated, he lowered his head and pressed his lips against hers in a hard, claiming kiss.

A muffled sound escaped her in response.

Instinct drove Millie to fight back, yet no matter how hard she pushed against him, he did not budge. Instead of easing, his kiss turned harsher and more possessive, as though he intended to wipe away any reminder that another man had ever touched her.

Each attempt she made to pull away only seemed to fuel the storm inside him, and that unspoken fury grew hotter by the second. In a sudden surge of temper, he caught her lower lip between his teeth and bit down.

A gentle cry slipped from her throat, yet the sound was trapped between them, and he caught the faint metallic taste that followed.

Even that did not calm him.

Driven by a force he refused to examine, he deepened the kiss and refused to let her retreat. What had begun as anger shifted into something heavier and far more dangerous, and he no longer tried to rein it in.

"Stop… let me go…" she whispered through uneven breaths as her hands pressed weakly against his chest.

Ignoring her plea, Darren pulled off his tie and wound it tightly around her wrists, binding them above her head before she could struggle again. Then he let instinct take over, and she began to sink under his passion until she could no longer fight back.