The Morning After

Nikolai woke up with a headache, the kind that made him question every decision he'd made the night before. The luxurious silk sheets of his bed felt too soft, too foreign against his body, and the faint smell of expensive cologne still lingered on his skin. His mind scrambled to piece together the fragments of the night before, but it wasn't the chaos of the club or the private lounge that stood out—it was her.

Her voice, calm and composed, had stayed with him long after she'd disappeared into the crowd. She had dismissed him, like he was just another player in her world, a world he hadn't even begun to understand.

What was it about her?

The woman who had managed to keep her distance from him. The woman who hadn't cared about his name, his wealth, or his power. It was as if she had seen through all of it in a way no one else had. And that was what bothered him the most—he wasn't used to people seeing past the surface, especially women. Most were drawn to him because of his reputation, his money, his everything. But she?

She didn't give a damn.

Nikolai swung his legs over the side of the bed, the weight of the previous night's mistakes crashing over him like a wave. He never mixed business with pleasure, never got caught up in the nonsense of clubs or meaningless encounters. He had been at the top of his game for so long that every move, every decision, was calculated. But somehow, last night had slipped through the cracks.

"I'll take a coffee," he muttered to the air, his assistant already anticipating his every need. He didn't even have to ask.

As the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the room, Nikolai sank back into the plush cushions of the sofa, trying to regain some semblance of control. He couldn't stop thinking about her. The blind woman.

Her fingers had glided over the edge of the table, her movements graceful, purposeful. The way she hadn't flinched when he'd stood there, imposing and looming, like a predator sizing up its prey.

But he wasn't the predator. Not this time.

There was something else there. Something unexpected. He'd never felt so disarmed, so… powerless. It was a feeling he despised.

He leaned back, shutting his eyes, and for a brief moment, he let his thoughts drift. What if she was just another distraction, another pretty face in a world full of them? Or perhaps, just maybe, there was more to her than that—something that could pierce through his icy exterior, something that could make him feel like more than just a man who had everything.

Just then, his phone buzzed, pulling him from his thoughts. The screen flashed with an unfamiliar name.

"Diana?" He frowned, answering the call.

"Mr. Steel," her voice crackled through the line. "There's been an issue."

The gravity in her tone snapped him to attention. "What kind of issue?"

"It's about the woman from last night. We need to talk."

Nikolai sat up straighter, his mind racing. "What happened?"

"Her name's Amelia. Amelia Westbrook," Diana continued. "She's the daughter of the club owner. And—"

He cut her off, his voice sharp. "What does that matter?"

"Her mother owns the club, but there's something more you need to know. Amelia—she's pregnant. With triplets."

Nikolai's heart stopped. He replayed her words in his mind, trying to make sense of them. Triplets?

"Pregnant?" he repeated, the words tasting foreign on his tongue. "Are you sure?"

"The doctors confirmed it this morning. She's been to a private clinic. But it's the timing that's strange." Diana paused, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Amelia says the father is you, but she doesn't know who you are."

The silence on the line stretched longer than either of them anticipated.

Nikolai clenched his fists, a rush of disbelief surging through him. His mind scrambled to make sense of the pieces. Last night. The club. The woman. He had been drunk, yes, but he never forgot.

And yet, here they were—three children. His children.

"How does she not know?" he asked through gritted teeth. "How could she not know who I am?"

"Amelia's blind," Diana explained, her voice laced with sympathy. "She doesn't know who you are, just that the man who… well, you left something behind."

"Triplets." He repeated the word, as if saying it would make it real.

The reality hit him with a force that stunned him. Amelia. The woman from last night. His reckless mistake.

"Get me the details, now." His voice was steady, cold, as always. But inside, something had shifted. Something he couldn't quite control.

"I'll send them over, Mr. Steel," Diana replied, her voice betraying no emotion.

Nikolai ended the call and stood up, his heart pounding in his chest. The world had just changed.

He had three children.

What kind of man was he, if he could walk away from that?

He ran a hand through his dark hair, his mind racing. He needed to see her. He needed to find her.

The club. The woman. The triplets. They were all linked, and somehow, he was now tied to them forever.