The Dangerous Temptation

Nora’s POV

The Devonte dining room was lively that evening, with the sound of cutlery clinking against plates and everyone talking over dinner.

My father was smiling, deep in conversation with Michael about the prenuptial agreement and stock options. Beside me, Michael sat quietly, scrolling through his phone as he ate.

Directly across the table sat Blake. He hadn't touched his food. Instead, his eyes were fixed on me, a faint smirk resting on his lips.

I keep wondering if he ever gets tired of staring at me. Crazy psycho.

"So, Nora," Blake said softly, breaking the quiet chatter around the table. "How are the wedding preparations? Hope it's going well and my brother isn't being too hard on you, is he?"

I swallowed hard, keeping my eyes on my plate. "I'm doing fine, Blake. Everything is going smoothly."

"Is it?" Blake tilted his head, taking a slow sip of his wine. "You look a little stressed. But then again, I suppose a fierce woman always carries a lot on her shoulders. Don't you think so?"

My breath caught. I knew exactly what he was referring to. The memory of the slap I gave him flashed through my mind, making my heart beat faster.

Before I could reply, I felt something brush against my ankle under the tablecloth. I froze as Blake’s shoe slowly slid up my leg, pressing firmly against my skin.

I went still, trying to remain calm. I pulled my leg back, but he held it in place effortlessly.

Across the table, his face remained completely calm, as if he were simply enjoying his dinner. I couldn't exactly kick him without everyone noticing. What was I supposed to do with this idiot?

"Is something wrong, Nora?" Michael asked, looking up from his phone.

"N-no," I stammered, forcing my voice to stay steady while Blake's foot moved higher up my leg. "Just... tired, I guess."

"Well, get some rest then," Michael said sharply, finally putting his phone down to signal the end of dinner. "You have your dress fitting tomorrow afternoon. Don't be late."

The next day, I stood inside a private fitting room at the most expensive bridal boutique in the city.

Everything was so lavish it almost felt unreal. The white lace gown fit perfectly around my waist and fell softly to the floor. For a second I loved it—it felt so beautiful.

I looked at myself in the mirror, but I didn't feel like a bride. I felt like a trophy waiting to be sold to save my family.

"Nora, sweetie?" my mother’s voice called out from the showroom outside. "How does it look? Do you like it? Can I come in?"

"Give me a minute, Mom! The zipper is stuck," I called back, struggling to pull the zipper up my back.

My phone buzzed on the vanity table. A text from Michael read: Busy with board members. Won't make the fitting.

I let out a sigh. Just great. He couldn't even make time for our wedding fitting.

"The zipper is stuck. I can't fix it," I called out.

Suddenly, the curtain was pushed aside. I turned around, expecting to see my mother or the seamstress, but the words died in my throat.

Blake stepped into the room, letting the curtain fall shut behind him. He looked effortlessly handsome in a white shirt, the top buttons undone just enough to reveal a glimpse of his bare chest.

“What are you doing here?” I whispered, backing away until I bumped into the vanity. “Get out! My mother is right outside!”

"Relax, I don't bite," Blake said quietly. His voice wasn't mocking or aggressive—it was surprisingly gentle. "Michael texted saying he was stuck in meetings. I happened to be nearby, so I thought I’d make sure you weren't handling everything by yourself."

Before I could tell him to leave, he stepped up behind me. He didn't grab my waist or pull me against himself. He simply reached out, his fingers brushing my skin as he carefully pulled the zipper into place.

I held my breath, waiting for him to whisper something inappropriate or pull me close like he usually does. But he didn't. He immediately stepped back, giving me my space.

"Nora?" my mother's voice called out from right behind the curtain. "Is everything okay in there, sweetie?"

“Everything’s fine, Mom! I’ll be out in a second,” I replied, my voice shaking slightly.

Blake gave me a polite nod. "You look beautiful in the dress, Nora. Don't let my brother tell you otherwise."

Without another word, he pulled the curtain aside and stepped out of the room, leaving as quietly as he had entered.

I stood frozen in front of the vanity mirror, staring at my reflection. I took a slow breath, trying to calm myself down.

What was that? Wait, was I hallucinating or he's sick?

I expected him to push me, to make a scene, or to act like the arrogant jerk he usually was. Instead, he just... helped me and left.

I placed a trembling hand over my chest, but I couldn't focus on the dress anymore. All I could think about was the glimpse of his bare chest through his open shirt, the way his fingers had touched my back, and how quietly he'd spoken.

What was wrong with him? Has he actually changed, or was this just another part of his twisted game?