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To: Nickolas Hardy

Subject: What do I wear?

Hello, Mr. Hardy,

I’m really sorry to interrupt your very busy schedule, but this is an urgent matter. I have this important date with my friend, Thalia, tonight at Maraboo Club and I can’t decide what to wear.

In order for you to be able to help me, I will attach a few photos of me in possible outfits. Please be aware the goal is to look absolutely sexy. *smirking emoji*

I look forward to hearing your professional opinion.

Yours,

Sierra Thomas

I open the photos, and my dick throbs in my pants, my mind hazy with lust. I haven’t touched her in almost two weeks, and I can’t wait any longer.

There are eight photos. All of her in lingerie, posing indecently and looking like sin. In the last one, she has a finger in her mouth and a hand between her legs—and by the look on her face, she’s about to come.

That’s it. I’m done waiting.

I can’t let another night pass without having her in my bed. And I think this email is a clear invitation, a desperate cry for me.

I shut my laptop, wrap up my work for today, and call my pilot.

Sierra Hardy, you’re about to have a huge surprise.

Two can play this game, baby.

NINETEEN

Sierra

“I’m so glad we came here tonight. I needed a night out and drinks,” Thalia yells over the music in the club.

It’s past midnight and we’re people-watching from our barstools.

The bass vibrates through the floor, a deep, steady thump that seems to echo inside my chest. Strobe light flash in shades of purple and gold, sweeping across the crowd like waves, while laser beams cut the smoke-filled air in electric green lines.

The place smells like expensive perfume, whiskey, and adrenaline—a cocktail of temptation. Behind the bar, bottles shimmer under the soft backlight, and bartenders move with practiced ease, juggling glasses and pouring shots with effortless rhythm.

A group of girls dances on a raised platform near the DJ booth, their silhouettes flickering like shadows in the light, while couples grind on the dance floor as if lost in their own universe.

Everything about this club screams luxury and freedom. It’s loud, chaotic, alive—and exactly what I needed.

“Me too. I spent the last weeks trying to catch up on my work. I’m exhausted.”

I bring the whiskey to my mouth and take a sip. I usually don’t drink, and I definitely don’t like alcohol, but tonight I feel the need to let loose a little.

Since I came from London, I’ve been working seven days a week to finish the marketing campaign for this club. This is the opening night, and the place is packed. My brothers brought it five months ago and they transformed it into a luxurious playground.

Speaking of my brothers, they’re all here somewhere—along with the Hardys. We didn’t have time to talk about my relationship with Nick, but I’m sure they’ll want to do it first thing tomorrow, now that we’ve met the timeline and opened the club.

“I don’t want to talk about work, Ser. I want you to tell me everything about Nick,” she teases me. „You and Nick, Sierra? I didn’t see that coming. And this massive, expensive ring… Damn, Sierra. It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen.”

“I know,” I say, blushing. “But there isn’t much to tell.”

“Yeah, sure. I can see it on your face,” she says, tone still teasing.