Forbidden affair with my fiance's Billionaire uncle

~~Elena~~

The next day, I went to see Grandma. When I stepped into her hospital room, the steady beep of the monitor was the only sound that welcomed me. She lay so still, her frail chest rising and falling in shallow breaths that made my heart ache.

I dragged a chair close to her bedside and carefully took her fragile hand in mine. Her skin was paper-thin, cold against my warmth, and I held it as if letting go might mean losing her forever. Lowering my head onto the mattress, I pressed my face against her arm, longing for the comfort of her voice, the reassurance of her touch.

"Please, Grandma…" I whispered through trembling lips. "Wake up. Tell me everything's going to be okay… because I don't know how to live in this world without you."

Buzz!

My phone lit up with a new message from the girls' group chat.

"Elena, we heard you are getting engaged. Are you giving up your dream of becoming a lawyer?"

I stared at the screen, my chest tightening. My fingers moved slowly across the keyboard before I finally typed:

"I don't have any other choice. Grandma is sick."

For a moment, the chat went silent. Then one of them replied:

"Sorry about that; wish I could help."

Another bubble popped up almost immediately from a different friend:

"Why don't we catch up tonight? Let's celebrate your last night of being single."

I hesitated, biting my lip. The truth was, I didn't feel like celebrating at all. But staring at Grandma's still form in the hospital bed, I realized I couldn't sit in the silence any longer either. With a sigh, I typed back:

Ok.

*********

Later that night, I arrived at our usual club. The place was loud, buzzing with music and laughter as always. Neon lights flashed across the crowded dance floor. But this time, it felt different. We always visit the club on Fridays, especially when my parents are on business trips. Then I was always the host, but this time, I was no longer the host, no longer the girl who bought the drinks and commanded attention. My pockets were empty, my problems too heavy, and for the first time, I felt like a stranger among my own friends.

I sat among them, silent, as though I had lost my voice. Their laughter and chatter filled the air, but I felt like I didn't belong anymore.

"That guy doesn't deserve your virginity," one of them said suddenly, sipping her drink. "He's a total mess. He dated my cousin and her friend at the same time."

Another leaned in with a smirk. "Why not just pick someone and get wild tonight?"

For a moment, I actually thought they were right. How could I keep something as precious as my virginity for a reckless scoundrel who had a reputation as a playboy? Maybe I should get wild tonight.

Then, almost mockingly, one of them laughed and echoed words that had once been mine: "Whatever you're doing today, Elena bills on me."

The others joined in, laughing, chanting it back at me. My heart ached. Those had been my words—the careless arrogance of a girl who thought she ruled the world. I never imagined they would be turned against me.

I forced a smile, raising my glass with trembling hands. "Okay, guys. The first man that walks through that door, I'm going to walk up to him and ask him out tonight."

They screamed in excitement, clapping and cheering for my so-called boldness. My heart rate increased in my chest as we all turned toward the entrance, waiting… watching…

In a few seconds, the door opened, and in it walked a tall man. His presence alone demanded attention. His body was carved like a god, every inch of him radiating power and control. The suit he wore fit so perfectly as if it were crafted solely for his frame. Just looking at him sent a strange chill racing down my spine, a mix of desire and fear.

The cheers around me died instantly. My friends, who had been laughing and screaming seconds ago, fell into stunned silence. It was as if they had seen a ghost.

The girls beside me pulled at my arm, urging me to sit down. "Elena, don't," one of them whispered sharply, her eyes wide with something I couldn't quite place.

But the alcohol had loosened my restraint. My blood was hot; I shoved their hands away and staggered to my feet, every step pulling me closer to him.

He sat on a chair near the bar, commanding the space with effortless dominance. With a wave of his hand, he ordered a glass of whisky. The moment I reached him, his scent wrapped around me, rich, intoxicating, and dangerously captivating.

Drawn in, I gradually moved closer, my alcohol-fueled courage pushing me further. I rested my hand lightly on his broad shoulder.

"How much for a night, handsome?" I whispered, forcing a playful smile.

He turned his head, and for the first time, our eyes met. His hazel eyes were cold, yet impossibly charming. As he showed no emotion.

Without a word, he lifted his glass and took a slow sip of his whisky, deliberately ignoring me, as though I were invisible.

The rejection burned deep into my heart, shattering my ego. Even if I were broke, I had never been rejected before. I always believed I was attractive; of course I am.

I tugged gently at his tie, drawing his face closer to mine. He moved without resistance. My gaze locked with his—those eyes so dangerously charming, they seemed to pull me in deeper with every second. Slowly, I traced my eyes from the dark depths of his gaze, down the sharp line of his nose, until they lingered on his bow-shaped lips, soft and inviting…

Without thinking, I pressed my lips against his, tasting the bitterness of whisky on his mouth. At first, he hesitated, then—slowly—his lips parted, giving me access. I slid my tongue against his when his tongue finally responded. There was a spark as his kiss was powerful, consuming, pulling me deeper until I could barely breathe.

Before I could even process what was happening, we were already inside a room bathed in a dim red glow. The air was thick, heavy with unspoken desire. He shut the door behind us with a soft but final thud and, in the same motion, pressed me against it. My back hit the wood, my breath catching in my throat.

His lips trailed kisses down my neck so aggressively that a groan escaped his lips, raw and desperate, as if he had been starving for this moment his entire life. Immediately my gown was ripped away, fabric tearing as cold air licked at my bare skin. I was left in only my bra and panties. My skin burning under the dim red light. In one swift motion, he lifted me effortlessly, pressing me against himself. My weak arms clung desperately around his neck, seeking balance, while my legs wrapped tightly around his waist on instinct. I gasped as his hardness pressed against me through the thin barrier of the fabric. I could feel every breath he took, every heartbeat pounding against his chest as if it were echoing into mine.

My back hit the soft mattress with a bounce; he leaned in, tracing kisses down my body—my neck, my chest, my stomach.

Every brush of his lips ignited me, and I couldn't control the way my body betrayed me, my legs winding tighter around him, my hips arching upward, desperate, silently begging for more.

"You will regret this," he said with a soft voice in my ears.

"I won't," I strike back, longing for his touch.

He leaned in for another kiss and then paused, his lips hovering over mine once more. "Are you sure about this?" he asked again, his voice husky, almost strained.

How many times will he ask me that?

I answered without words, pulling his head down, crushing my lips against his. That was all the permission he needed.

A sharp cry escaped my throat as he pushed inside me. Pain and pleasure collided in a dizzying wave—I had never felt anything like it.

"Your first time?" he asked, his breath fast.

I nodded, biting down on my fingers as my body tried to adjust, the burn giving way to a flood of aching sweetness.

"I'll be gentle," he whispered, his lips brushing my ear, before his thrusts became slow and gentle. The ache melted into pleasure until all I could do was moan, the sound spilling helplessly from me.

The tension broke in a flood, leaving me trembling in his arms, my body powerless as his strength pressed against me. We shattered together, breathless.

Gradually I curled into his arms, like a baby seeking shelter. For the first time in a long time it felt safe.