C21 One minute

SYDNEY

I had a plan. A perfectly reckless, deliciously daring plan: follow him everywhere until he couldn’t take it anymore.

Alaric Blackthorne, the man with eyes sharp enough to cut steel and a scowl that could freeze fire, was infuriatingly disciplined, impossibly composed, and annoyingly… irresistible. He was pride, control, and danger incarnate. Most people would fall in line, but I was going to be the storm that rattled his world.

And today… I had a perfect opportunity.

---

I spotted him slipping into a quiet, upscale restaurant tucked between high-rise buildings. The kind of place that whispered exclusivity, where every chair, every table, every fork screamed privilege.

Perfect.

I followed, heart pounding like a drumline. My heels clicked against the polished floor as I slid into the booth directly across from him, casually flicking my hair over my shoulder like I hadn’t just risked being seen by half the city.

He didn’t look up. Not a twitch, not a flinch. The man could be in the middle of a hurricane and remain completely unbothered.

“Lunch break?” I asked, tone light, eyes twinkling. “Or are you secretly hiding from the world?”

Finally, he glanced at me, the faintest flicker of irritation in his eyes.

“Do I know you?” His voice was flat, deliberate, with just the barest hint of danger.

I leaned forward, letting my hair brush his shoulder. “I think you do… you just refuse to admit it.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly debating whether to endure me. “Are you… following me?” he asked, voice sharper.

“Until you give in,” I said boldly. “You’ll thank me later.”

His eyes darkened. That look—danger wrapped in fire—made my stomach clench. “You realize this is bordering on stalking, right?”

“Oh, I know exactly what I’m doing,” I said lightly, letting my grin widen. “And you… you know exactly what to do to stop me.”

He tilted his head, eyebrow arched. “And that is…?”

I shrugged, pretending to be casual while my pulse raced. “Maybe… a kiss?”

His lips twitched, almost a smile. “How long should this kiss last?”

“One minute,” I replied, jokingly, though secretly imagining every delicious second.

Before I could blink, he was on his feet.

“Leaving already? Your lunch break isn’t over,” I said, standing to match him.

And then… he crushed his lips against mine.

---

The restaurant erupted. Flashbulbs, gasps, and the unmistakable sound of recording apps. People were filming like this was the finale of a reality show. But I didn’t care.

His lips were firm, insistent, claiming every inch of me. My pulse hammered, knees weakened, and a fire ignited in my chest that I hadn’t felt in years. Every nerve in my body was alive, screaming, burning, wanting more.

Time didn’t exist… until the buzz of his phone broke the spell.

He pulled back, holding it up. “One minute. Time’s up. Now leave me alone… or I could legitimately hurt you.”

I blinked, dazed. “One minute?”

He gave me that piercing look—the kind that made your skin prickle and your heart thump painfully.

My phone buzzed with messages, notifications. #OneMinuteKiss was already trending online. People were screaming, recording, and pointing.

And me? I didn’t care.

---

At the office, the tension didn’t dissipate. I tried to apologize. “I’m sorry I—”

“You never think before you act,” he snapped, ice-cold and precise. “You never do. And now the entire office, the internet, everyone has seen… this side of me.”

“I—” I started, but he cut me off.

“You made it worse,” he said, eyes dark, restraining a growl I could feel in my bones.

Our argument escalated, voices bouncing in the empty hallways. I threw my hands up. “You’re impossible! I just said I was sorry”

“And you’re insufferable!” he shot back.

Paige burst in, pale and panicked. “Sydney… you have a text from your dad. And it doesn’t sound good.”

My stomach dropped. News from him never came without strings attached.

---