CHAPTER 17

The Edge of Temptation

Naarah should have felt victorious.

She had spent the entire evening toying with Peter, teasing him, making him react in ways she had never thought possible. For once, she had been the one in control. She had turned the tables.

So why did it feel like she was the one trapped in his game?

Her pulse was still racing long after he had walked away, his warning echoing in her ears.

You're playing with fire.

She knew that.

But what Peter didn't realize was—

She wasn't afraid of getting burned.

---

The Car Ride Home

Naarah sat in the back seat of the black luxury car, staring out the tinted window as the city lights blurred past.

She wasn't alone.

Peter sat beside her, his presence thick and heavy in the enclosed space.

Neither of them had spoken since the event ended.

The air between them was tense, charged.

Naarah could feel his gaze on her, but she refused to look at him.

If she did… she might lose whatever little composure she had left.

After a few more agonizingly silent minutes, Peter finally spoke.

"You enjoyed yourself tonight."

His voice was smooth, unreadable.

Naarah's fingers tightened slightly in her lap. "Of course. It was a company event."

A low hum of amusement came from him. "Is that all it was?"

She turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze. "What else would it be?"

Peter studied her, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to decipher the truth.

She knew he wasn't fooled.

And yet, he didn't call her out on it.

Instead, he smirked. "You're playing a dangerous game, Naarah."

She lifted her chin. "Maybe I like danger."

Peter's smirk deepened, but there was something darker in his expression now—something predatory.

He shifted in his seat, leaning slightly closer. "Careful, sweetheart. You don't know what you're inviting."

Naarah swallowed, her heart slamming against her ribs.

She had never seen him like this before.

He wasn't just teasing her anymore.

He was warning her.

And for the first time tonight, she wondered if she had gone too far.

---

Peter's Penthouse

The elevator ride up was silent.

Naarah had assumed Peter would drop her off at her apartment, but he had given the driver different instructions.

She should have protested.

But she didn't.

She wasn't sure if it was curiosity or something far more dangerous that kept her quiet.

The moment they stepped into his penthouse, she realized just how reckless she was being.

She had been in his home before, but this felt different.

The atmosphere was heavier. Charged.

Peter shrugged off his suit jacket, tossing it onto a chair before turning to face her.

His eyes burned with something she couldn't quite name.

Something she wasn't sure she was ready for.

"You think you've won tonight, don't you?" he murmured.

Naarah's breath hitched.

He took a slow step forward.

She instinctively took a step back.

A smirk played at his lips. "What's wrong? You were so bold earlier."

Naarah's back hit the wall.

Peter didn't stop until he was right in front of her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his body.

He placed a hand on the wall beside her head, caging her in effortlessly.

"You spent the whole night teasing me," he said lowly. "Testing me."

Naarah's throat went dry. "I was just—"

"Having fun?" he cut in.

She hesitated.

He tilted his head, studying her reaction. "You wanted to see what would happen, didn't you?"

She bit her lip.

Peter's eyes darkened at the action.

"Let me show you, then."

He leaned in, slow, deliberate.

Naarah's breath caught.

Her mind screamed at her to move, to push him away—

But she didn't.

She couldn't.

Peter's lips brushed against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

"You don't want to play this game with me, Naarah."

His voice was low, almost dangerous.

Naarah's heart pounded. "And if I do?"

Peter pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his expression unreadable.

Then—

He smirked.

A slow, knowing smirk that sent heat curling in her stomach.

"Then don't complain when you lose."

And just like that, he stepped back, leaving her breathless and completely unraveled.

Naarah's hands clenched into fists.

This man.

He was infuriating.

Addicting.

And worst of all—

He knew it.

---

Later That Night – Naarah's Bedroom

She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

Peter had gotten the last word tonight.

She hated that.

She turned onto her side, frustration twisting in her chest.

She should stop this.

This dangerous back-and-forth between them.

But she didn't want to.

Naarah groaned, pressing a pillow over her face.

She was in so much trouble.

And the worst part?

She wasn't sure she wanted to be saved.