Contract Marriage with the Dangerous Don

XAIVER'S POV

I glanced at my watch as the car pulled up to the lavish club, the neon lights casting a vibrant glow across the night. It was only 8 p.m, and I had a tight fifteen minutes to spare before I needed to catch my flight to Russia for an important business meeting—one I had no intention of missing.

As soon as the car door swung open, I stepped out, my hands casually tucked into my pockets. Without missing a beat, rows of club staff and bouncers rushed forward, swiftly forming a line, their heads bowed in silent submission. The crowd outside the club couldn't help but take notice. Women cast lingering glances, their eyes filled with admiration and desire, while the men straightened, sizing me up with a mix of respect and envy.

"Welcome, boss," they greeted in unison, but I didn't spare them a second glance. With a swift flick of my wrist, I tossed the car key to Lucian and continued toward the club's entrance.

"Have you checked the identity of the man we're meeting?" I asked gruffly, pulling the golden lighter from my pocket and flicking the lid open before bringing it to the cigar between my lips.

"I'd rather not have another run-in with those damn cops like last time."

"Yes, boss, rest assured, everything is set and the identity of the man has been checked," Lucian replied behind me, making me pause in my steps.

What the hell does "rest assured" even mean? That was the same thing he said last time, but it turned out the man he brought me to was just a cop in disguise.

"Rest assured? You still don't get it, do you?" I said coldly, turning to face him. "If I miss my flight because of any mistakes, you can be rest assured that I'll put a bullet in that skull of yours by the end of the night." I threatened, and he knew I wasn't joking.

"I understand, boss," Lucian said with a bow, not flinching for a second, his expression unchanging. And I liked that. It was the way I trained my men to be—unyielding, because flinching and acting timid always annoyed the hell out of me.

I took a drag from my cigar, exhaled slowly, and then turned, walking toward my destination while completely ignoring the lustful gazes directed at me.

I should just pluck the eyes out of those women staring. There were two things I hated above all else: being viewed as an object of desire and being touched.

To put it bluntly, I was an asexual man who despised physical contact. In all my years, I'd never felt attracted to a woman, and I knew I never would. So, I never bothered with it.

But one man did.

"Did he call again?" I asked, and Lucian nodded.

"Yes, boss. Your grandfather called and said you should return home immediately. He also mentioned that if he has to ask again, he won't use words—he'll simply kidnap you and bring you home himself."

I raised a brow at his words. That old man wasn't kidding.

"Call in more of our men. I'll need their protection before I leave for Russia."

"Understood boss"

I was about to issue another command, but before I could take a step, I froze as something warm splashed over me.

Slowly, I tilted my head to the side, my gaze locking onto the female server who had spilled drinks all over my suit. Her eyes widened in terror the moment she realized who I was, and she immediately dropped to the ground, trembling like a leaf, her hands shaking as she tried to gather herself.

"Oh my God, p-please forgive me, boss. It was an accident. I didn't see you there," she stammered, as onlookers turned their gazes toward the scene, their curiosity and unease palpable.

They were waiting for a reaction– a show but I was too busy for that.

I exhaled deeply, rubbing the bridge of my nose as I fought to suppress my irritation. Five precious minutes had already slipped away, leaving me with barely ten to attend the meeting and close the deal.

"P-please forgive—" the woman began her petty plea once again but I cut her off with a raised hand, my patience wearing thin.

"Clean up this mess and get back to work," I said coldly, my tone leaving no room for argument. Without sparing her another glance, I turned to Lucian, who stood ready, extending the key card to my room.

"Stall him until I arrive. I'll change and be there in a few minutes," I ordered, striding toward the elevator.

Once in my room, I shed the drenched jacket and tossed it onto the bed, my fingers quickly working at the buttons of my shirt. With a soft thud, the fabric fell to the floor.

Glancing at my watch, I couldn't suppress a frown. Only nine minutes left, and the idiots I had sent for a new shirt still hadn't shown up.

I pulled my phone from my pocket, ready to call Lucian, but a knock at the door interrupted me.

Well, that was right on time. I raised an eyebrow and tossed my phone onto the bed before heading for the door. Just as I got closer, the knocking grew louder, almost urgent, causing me to pause for a brief moment.

"Who is it?" I asked, my hand instinctively reaching for the gun tucked at the back of my trousers as I carefully approached the door.

"P-please, open up the door. I need your help, please!" The voice on the other side was shaky, desperate.

It was a woman, a terrified woman.

But I didn't lower my guard. This wasn't the first time someone had tried to pull a trick like this. They'd used countless pathetic schemes before, and this could very well be another one.

"Please, they're right behind me, please open the door! I'm begging you!" The voice pleaded again, panic evident in her tone.

I frowned, my instincts kicking in. I pulled the safety off my gun, clicked it into place, and slowly turned the handle. As the door creaked open, I kept the gun leveled, my eyes scanning the hallway before I stepped closer, placing the barrel at her head, ready for whatever was to come.

Honestly, I had expected many things to happen all at once, but not this. My eyes froze on the sight before me—a woman in nothing but her underwear, her face drenched in tears, and her fiery red hair a wild mess. She kept glancing fearfully over her shoulder, as if checking for someone.

For a moment, I was confused, my mind racing to process what was happening. My heart beat rapidly in my chest, but it wasn't just the situation that had my attention—it was her. Something deep within me stirred for the first time, something that reacted to the sight of her in a way I hadn't expected.

Before I could collect my thoughts, she moved swiftly, seemingly unaware of the gun I still held in my hand. In a blink, she shoved me back inside the room, the door clicking shut behind her. The gun slipped from my grasp, hitting the floor with a dull thud as she pressed me against the wall.

Her body was pressed flush against mine, and I could feel the heat radiating from her—heat that, surprisingly, I didn't completely despise.

Hold on a damn minute, did I just react to a woman's touch?