Bound to the calloway's heir

Prologue. NOAH BENNETT. The night trouble came to find me. It didn't just knock and walk in politely; it kicked the door down and walked in wearing the lightest shade of red dinner dress. And it chose the one night I had chosen to socialize to find me. I was at the Eden, the exclusive lounge that my brother, Damian Pierce, had opened two weeks after Zane and Sienna's engagement, and, as it had been since its opening, it was filled with the one-percent elite of the city of Los Angeles. It sat on the penthouse floor of his central city empire, chandeliers dripping with jagged crystal gold, filling the entire space with light that reeked of money...and lots of it, too. The air was so thick with expensive fragrances blended with cocktails of aged bourbon, and the vibrant tang of ambition of networkers. If I didn't belong to the Atlas Group and the extravagant lifestyle my four brothers lived, I would choke on the intensity of everything the second I got into the lounge. Way into the hall, I saw a brunette in a sequined red gown near the VIP ropes as she tossed her head back. My eyes caught her diamond earrings flashing at me like warning flares. A tech mogul by the velvet curtain argued over a deal, his Patek Philippe catching the light as he waved a hand that could buy half the city. Every breath was a reminder that this was no ordinary lounge, and you had to hold some bars to actually be there. I sat at the bar, my black hair had been styled and slicked backward to give my face a more defined look, making my jawline stand out. I had picked a gray tuxedo, with its sharp cut, leaning against my body while I let the chaos sink into my bones. My fingers gripped a tumbler of Macallan 25, the amber liquid swirling like a storm I was ready to dive into. It was the last drop of the old wine, which meant one thing. I was drunk. When the people around me started to float, I knew I had gone way above my liquor limit. I was drunk, not the kind that made you stumble, but the kind that made the world too vivid, too raw. Every sound in the room, from the clink of glasses, the low growl of the bass, the brittle laugh of patrons across the room, pierces through me. Suddenly, the DJ's bassline thrummed through hidden speakers, urging me to let go of the weight I carried. I saw Damian move through the crowd, his deep green eyes glinting with that dangerous charm that made him untouchable. He owned this place, not just the deed but the souls inside it, every smile and deal bending to his will. He had caught me earlier, whispering as he walked by. "Keep your head, don't finish that bottle." I smirked, raised my glass, and told him to shove his warnings. I wanted a night to live without being bothered. I wanted bliss, and I would take it, consequences be damned. The bartender, seeing I had finished the bottle with me, slid another bottle of whiskey my way. I barely acknowledged him, my gaze drifting back to the crowd, restless, searching for something I couldn't name. That was when she appeared, gliding through the crowd of patrons. Her red dress hugged her curves, and boy, she does have curves. The voluminous hips she got could either be from a strong mama's gene, years of active gym, or liposuction. It was perfect with the tiniest waist to complement it. I must have been lost trying without success to trace the outlines of her body contours as she walked closer. I snapped out of it, taking my eyes back to her face, oval with pouty lips that called to me. Her honey-blond hair spilled over one shoulder, brushing her full boobs as she moved with a sexy grace. She stopped at the bar, inches from me, and I picked up her distinct vanilla perfume, and the more I inhaled it, it spiked something darker in me. "Double shot of Negroni," she said, reaching out perfectly manicured fingers to take the order from the bartender. Since I was sitting directly at the bar, her shoulder brushed mine as she reached for her glass, and it sent a jolt through me. I turned, meeting her eyes, a light tone of blue. "You look like you're carrying the world, you should chill on that," she said, her lips curling, towards the whiskey bottle. I leaned closer, "And you look like you're here to steal it," I shot back while I locked my eyes on hers. She chuckled, a soft yet throaty sound that cut through the room, and I felt it in my gut, a pull I hadn't expected. Her name was Lila, she said, though I didn't care if it was real. Names were masks in a place like this, and we were both hiding something. She sipped her drink, her lipstick leaving a faint wine stain on the glass, and I watched, too aware of the heat building between us. We flirted hard with words and glances that felt like foreplay. She leaned in each time she spoke, her breath warm against my ear, letting her hairbrush my cheek. "This place is chaos," she murmured, her fingers trailing down my arm. "Too crowded. Don't you want to escape for a little while?" Her eyes held mine, bold, daring me to take the bait. I knew better. I had built my life on control to spot the kind of traps she was hinting at. The Atlas Group didn't survive by chance but thrived because I saw the moves before they were made. Yet with Lila, I let the whiskey fill me with adrenaline. I studied her, searching for the lie, but her smile was too perfect to be an act. Lila's hand settled on my wrist. "I'm staying next door," she said. "The Elysian Hotel. Room 2304. Quieter. Private." Her eyes flicked to my lips, then back up, and I felt the pull. My pulse kicked up, but the Macallan had dulled my caution, and against my better judgment, I wanted a blissful night. One where I wasn't the Atlas Group's enforcer, nor the man who had buried his past in blood. I wanted her, and I was ready to deal with the fallout later. "Lead the way," I said, as I tossed back the last of my whiskey, the burning sensation grounding me as I set the glass down. She smiled slowly and turned, her hips swaying as she moved toward the exit. The crowd parted for her to walk through because she made heads turn to get a better look at her curvy shape. Damian tried to get my attention as I followed Lila with my gaze fixed on her without a single care about him and his lavish lounge I was already leaving behind. We reached the private elevator and she pressed the button. The huge doors slid open with a soft chime. We stepped inside the small space. The doors had barely closed when she turned to me with a deep smile beaming at me. "You're not like the others here," she said, stepping closer enough to get her fingers to brush the lapel of my jacket. "And why is that?" I asked, letting my eyes fall on her boobs. "The rest are players, but not you. You don't strike as one who just plays the game, you own it." I grabbed her wrist, feeling her pulse under my thumb. "You don't know me," I said, letting my thumb trace a slow circle on her skin. "Maybe I want to, Noah," she whispered, fanning my face with her warm breath. The elevator hummed along as we descended, then flung its doors open onto the street. The cool night air hit me at once, and I felt the shift in the wind against the heat of the lounge. "The Elysian Hotel is just across the street," Lila said as she stepped out, slipping her hand into mine like we were old lovers. "Don't I know that?" I whispered back. Even as I crossed the street, my focus was on her soaking in everything about her. I felt like an artist trying to paint his muse. I studied the way her dress caught the streetlight, the curve of her neck as she glanced back at me, and her smile that revealed the dimples on both cheeks. We reached the hotel's revolving doors and let the glass spin us into the lobby. The male clerk was busy working on the desktop in front of him, and he barely glanced at us as we walked past. Even Lila's heels, which clicked on the marble, did nothing to get his attention. He must be doing the numbers. Only that could make a man miss out on Lila's captivating presence. When we got to the elevators, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I knew it had to be Damian without any doubt. I ignored it, since my hands were busy anyway, tightening around Lila's waist. She leaned against the wall, her eyes locked on mine. "Last chance to walk away," she said. I stepped closer, my hand on the wall beside her, locking her in. "I don't do walk-aways," I said, loving the way her smile widened. The elevator dinged when we got to her floor, and the doors opened just as my phone buzzed again. I pulled it out, glancing at the screen. Damian. I sighed, swiping the screen as I switched to flight mode. I didn't want to be disturbed. I wanted to have Lila to myself and nothing else mattered. Lila's hand grazed my arm, her touch pulling me in, but her eyes suddenly held a glint I hadn't seen before, like a predator who'd just sprung her trap. I realized before the first light of day that I had simply walked into trouble's lair.