The villa seemed silent, yet for Mel, the quiet was heavy, almost tangible. Ever since last night, her mind kept returning to the moments in the living room and on the terrace. Antoine had brushed against her arm, grazed her hand, and those eyes… his eyes had burned in her memory like a dangerous promise. Ethan, meanwhile, had averted his gaze, but that coldness revealed a turmoil she didn't want to admit. Andrew slept peacefully beside her, oblivious to the storm brewing around Mel.
The morning sunlight crept across the tiled floor, highlighting every familiar object, every corner of the villa. Henry had left early for training, Maëlys for her project, and Ethan had gone out for his appointments. Mel felt restless, unable to stay in bed any longer.
A few minutes later, Antoine came downstairs with a steaming cup of coffee. His eyes immediately sought hers, as if he could read every thought crossing her mind.
— You barely slept, he noted with a sly smile.
— No… she replied softly. I… I keep thinking about last night.
He settled across from her, letting that electric silence hang between them, both separating and drawing them closer. Mel's heart raced, her hands slightly sweaty, her breath uneven.
— Yesterday… she murmured, I don't know… why do you… why do you unsettle me so much?
Antoine tilted his head, a subtle smile on his lips. — Maybe because you don't want to admit it… but you know.
Mel looked away, feeling a strange warmth spreading through her body. — It's not fair… I'm married… I shouldn't feel this.
— I know, Antoine said, and that's exactly what makes this… forbidden… and thrilling.
Mel shivered, taking a deep breath, trying to regain control. Yet something inside her wanted to give in, to explore the tension drawing her dangerously toward him.
— Antoine… she whispered, almost shyly, — why… why can't I stop thinking about you?
— Because you don't want to, he murmured, leaning close, letting his fingers graze hers.
They sipped their coffees, the air between them charged. Each glance, each subtle movement, amplified the pull. The villa felt smaller, the walls closer, their connection almost tangible.
Hours passed, and a daring idea sprouted in her mind: to go out, breathe, forget the rules and the house for a moment. Antoine seemed to sense it without a word.
— I know a place where you could… let go a little, he offered softly.
Mel nodded. — Okay… but just one drink.
The drive to the club was accompanied by a companionable silence. Antoine drove calmly, yet the electricity in the air was palpable. Each exchanged glance, each restrained smile, promised an intense continuation.
The club was a world apart: powerful bass, flashing lights, the crowd moving like waves. Mel's senses awakened, her heart racing, a prelude to intoxication even before the first sip. Antoine guided her to the bar, and soon they ordered several drinks. The first one was light, almost timid, but each following sip seemed to dissolve her barriers.
— Antoine… why… why can't I ignore you? she asked, cheeks flushed.
— Because you don't want to, he murmured in her ear, his fingers brushing hers again.
They drank, the alcohol enhancing their closeness. Mel felt her defenses crumble, her body responding to his movements, to his gaze, to the tension that grew between them. Each shared laugh, each breath, drew their bodies closer. The music pulsed through her chest, echoing the tension they could no longer hide.
— I… I shouldn't… she whispered, swaying slightly, intoxicated by both drink and desire. I'm married…
— I know… he murmured, drawing her closer, their lips nearly touching. But it's not what you feel that matters… it's what you can't control.
Finally, their lips met. The world around them vanished. Antoine's tongue explored, hot and urgent. Mel felt a wave of desire mixed with guilt crash over her, sensations she had never experienced. Her hands sought his, her arms, until their bodies pressed together.
— Antoine… she gasped between kisses. We… we shouldn't…
— Shh… he murmured against her lips, — just this moment.
The alcohol, the music, the adrenaline… everything heightened every sensation. Mel laughed nervously between kisses, gasping for air they didn't quite get, lost in the storm of their attraction.
— We should go back before… before it gets out of control, Antoine finally said, voice low and urgent.
Mel nodded, heart pounding. She knew they had crossed an invisible line. In the car, silence hung heavy, weighted by everything they had shared. Her body still burned from his touch, his lips, and every memory made her shiver.
Back at the villa, night had fallen. The dim interior lights felt less comforting than before. Mel went straight to her room, leaving Antoine to put away jackets and glasses. Her mind raced: the passion she had unleashed, the guilt toward Andrew, Ethan's silent turmoil, and the storm igniting in her heart.
Lying in bed, she replayed every detail: his hand brushing hers, the shiver of his lips, the heat still lingering despite sleep. She knew nothing would be the same. Antoine had opened a door she could never close, and every thought, every memory, drew her further into that dangerous desire.
And in the quiet of the night, Mel understood one thing: this was only the beginning of a storm that would shake her life, her marriage with Andrew, and the balance of the villa.