The Geneva skyline was a cold contrast to the warmth of the Alps. Glass and steel scraped at the sky, the air sharp with winter and tension. Their suite overlooked Lake Geneva—tranquil on the surface, hiding undercurrents below.
He adjusted the cuffs of his black tailored suit as he stared at the invitation in his hand. “Executive Forex Summit 2025 – Private Roundtable.” The real event wasn’t the panels or the keynotes. It was the deals made in shadows.
She stepped out of the bedroom in a navy dress that clung to her like a second skin, high heels echoing on the marble. His eyes swept over her slowly, possessively.
“You’re going to ruin every man’s concentration,” he murmured.
“I only care about yours.”
He kissed her with a hunger that bordered on aggressive, and when he pulled back, he was already breathing harder.
The summit was hosted in a private gallery turned boardroom, beneath crystal chandeliers and abstract paintings worth millions. He moved through the crowd like a king among barons, his name whispered with both awe and threat.
Then he saw him—Luca Drex. Older, American, slick. The man who’d once tried to buy his algorithm. Now he was here, shaking hands, smiling too wide.
“Ah, the young prodigy,” Drex drawled when they met. “I was wondering when you’d start playing with the big boys.”
“I built the table,” he replied coldly. “You’re just lucky to be seated.”
Tension snapped between them like electric wire. She stayed silent beside him, reading everything, absorbing the cues like a born strategist.
That night, back in the suite, his hands trembled slightly as he pulled off his tie. She walked behind him, arms wrapping around his waist.
“You’re afraid,” she whispered.
“No. Just… alert.”
He turned to face her, and for the first time, she saw it—uncertainty. He’d been the storm, the fire, the drive. But here, in the middle of this empire he was building, she saw the boy who once slept in hoodies and dreamt of freedom.
She dropped to her knees before him—not from submission, but reverence. Her hands steadied his, and then undressed him slowly, reverently, undoing the day with touch.
She gave him back control by giving him surrender.
When he came undone in her arms, his voice broke with her name.
—
The next morning, she joined him at the summit. Not just as a guest—but as his partner. Eyes followed her, men watched her, but none dared speak. Her gaze was steel.
During a closed roundtable, she leaned in and whispered a strategy into his ear. Bold. Risky. Genius.
He used it. And won.
Drex lost a contract worth 80 million euros that afternoon.
In the elevator back to their suite, he pressed her against the mirror with a smirk that held infinite heat.
“You’re dangerous,” he growled.
“I learned from the best.”
Chapter Three – Geneva:Collision
C