
Before You Love Me
Nwachukwu Winniette · Ongoing · 87.8k Words
Introduction
Lucas left for reasons he’s never spoken aloud. The world may see him as a ruthless billionaire, a man who has everything, but the one thing he’s ever truly wanted is the one thing he was forced to let go. Lila was never just another girl—she was his weakness, his obsession, his greatest regret. And now that she’s in his orbit again, he’s determined to rewrite their ending, even if she fights him every step of the way.
But the past doesn’t stay buried, and secrets have a way of resurfacing when least expected. As tension builds between them, Lila and Lucas are forced to confront the truth: some scars never heal, some desires never fade, and sometimes, love is the most dangerous game of all.
Because in the end, the real question isn’t whether Lucas can win Lila back. It’s whether she can survive loving him a second time.
Before You Love Me(BYLM) is a story of passion, betrayal, and the fine line between love and destruction.
Chapter 1
LILA'S POV
The music pulsed through the club, deep bass shaking the floor beneath my feet as neon lights flickered across the space. The DJ had the entire room in his grip, every beat sending waves of energy through the crowd. From my spot in our private booth, I watched the chaos unfold, a smirk tugging at my lips as bodies moved in wild, reckless abandon.
"Alright, Lila, it's your turn!" Olivia’s voice cut through the noise, shoving a red plastic cup toward me. "And no slacking."
I scoffed, leaning forward. "Like I’d ever slack off."
The four of us—me, Olivia, Mia, and Tessa—were deep into our beer pong battle, the drinks already working their magic in our system. The club’s energy was electric, the perfect setting for a night of no regrets.
Tessa twirled a ball between her fingers, grinning. "Miss this, and you’re downing two shots. House rules."
"Since when?" I arched a brow.
Mia, already tipsy, waved a dismissive hand. "Since right now. Go!"
Rolling my eyes, I focused on the cups lined up across the table. With a flick of my wrist, I sent the ball soaring—only for it to bounce off the rim and roll away.
Laughter erupted around me.
"Drink up, baby!" Olivia teased, shoving two shots my way.
I shook my head in mock defeat before knocking them back one after the other, the familiar burn sliding down my throat. A pleasant warmth spread through my veins, the buzz settling in nicely.
By the time we wrapped up the game, we were a mess of giggles and slurred words, our energy spilling over into the rest of the club. The cups sat half-empty, but our spirits were full.
"Let’s dance!" Tessa suddenly declared, already pushing away from the table.
"Finally!" Mia grabbed Olivia’s hand, dragging her toward the dance floor.
I followed, the crowd swallowing us whole as we got lost in the music. The beat was intoxicating, thrumming through my body as I let myself go. Hands in the air, hips swaying, I moved like nothing else mattered.
We danced together, teasing, laughing, pushing each other playfully. Olivia spun me around, giggling as I stumbled, our bodies melting into the crowd.
Then I saw them.
A group of men, perched at the bar, their presence impossible to ignore. Even in the dim lighting, they exuded power, their tailored suits a sharp contrast to the reckless energy of the club.
But my eyes locked onto one.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Confident.
Even from across the room, I could feel it—the pull, the unspoken challenge in his dark gaze as it flicked over me. The slow smirk that tugged at his lips sent heat curling in my stomach.
Shit.
"Uh-oh," Olivia whispered near my ear.
"What?" I feigned ignorance, swaying my hips to the music.
"Don't ‘what’ me. We all saw that." Mia smirked, eyes flickering toward the bar.
Tessa grinned. "You should go over there."
I scoffed. "And say what?"
"‘Hi, I saw you looking at me, and I think you should buy me a drink,’" Olivia purred in an exaggeratedly sultry voice.
Laughter bubbled from my lips as I turned away, but the damage was done.
When I looked back toward the bar, he was gone.
My pulse kicked up a notch.
Then, suddenly, the air shifted.
I didn’t need to turn around to know. I felt him. The warmth, the weight of his presence pressing into my space.
Then—a hand on my waist.
I didn’t flinch. Didn’t resist.
"Running away?" His voice was smooth, deep—dangerously enticing.
A slow smile curled on my lips. "Was I supposed to stay still?"
A low chuckle rumbled behind me. "I wouldn’t have minded."
I turned slightly, just enough to glimpse him. Up close, he was even more devastating—strong jaw, dark stubble, lips curved in a knowing smirk.
"Do you always approach women like this?" I teased, my fingers tracing lightly down his wrist as we moved in sync with the music.
"Only when it’s worth it," he murmured, his grip tightening slightly, guiding me effortlessly.
The air between us thickened, charged with something I wasn’t sure I wanted to name.
Across the dance floor, my friends had noticed. Olivia shot me a wink, and Tessa gave a thumbs-up before disappearing into the crowd, leaving me with him.
I turned fully then, facing him head-on, our proximity nearly suffocating. "What’s your name?" I asked, my voice just loud enough to be heard over the music.
"Lucas."
Lucas. It suited him—smooth, refined, with an edge of danger.
"You?"
"Lila."
He smirked. "Lila." He said my name like he was savoring it.
The music shifted, a sultry beat replacing the frantic pace of before. The people around us moved differently now—slower, bodies pressing closer.
I didn’t think. Didn’t second-guess. My arms looped around his shoulders, my body molding into his as we swayed together. His hands slid lower, fingertips pressing into the fabric of my dress as he held me in place.
"You dance like you know exactly what you’re doing," he murmured against my ear.
I chuckled, tilting my head slightly. "Maybe I do."
A knowing glint flickered in his dark eyes. "Or maybe it’s just the tequila talking."
"Maybe," I teased, my fingers trailing down the front of his shirt.
His breath hitched, barely noticeable—but I caught it. His grip tightened ever so slightly, as if trying to keep himself in check.
The heat between us burned brighter.
And for the first time that night, I felt something deeper than just the buzz of alcohol.
Something thrilling.
Something dangerous.
And I wasn’t sure I wanted to stop.
----
I sank into the plush leather couch, my body buzzing with alcohol and the lingering high of dancing. The VVIP section was draped in luxury—dark velvet curtains, gold-trimmed tables, and an exclusive view of the chaos below. I knew this level of privilege, but Lucas? He owned it.
"You always sit up here?" I asked, raising a brow as I took in our surroundings.
Lucas leaned back, draping an arm along the back of the couch, his fingers barely grazing my shoulder. "Only when I don’t feel like dealing with the crowd." His voice was smooth, laced with quiet authority.
I smirked, swirling the drink in my hand. "So, you’re telling me you don’t like to party?"
His lips twitched. "I like to party. I just prefer a… better view."
His eyes dragged over me, slow and deliberate. Heat bloomed in my chest, spreading lower.
I bit my lip, tilting my head. "Are you always this smooth, or is it just for me?"
Lucas chuckled, setting his glass down on the table beside us. "Wouldn’t you like to know?"
I huffed a laugh, leaning into him slightly, the alcohol making me bold. "You’re trouble."
He didn’t deny it. Instead, he ran his fingers along the rim of his glass, watching me like he already knew the effect he had on me.
I shifted, closing the small space between us. "What do you do, Lucas? Besides lurking in expensive places and staring at girls across the club?"
He smirked. "Wouldn’t you rather guess?"
I hummed, my fingers toying with the loose strands of my hair. "You dress too well to be just some businessman. And you carry yourself like you’re used to people listening when you speak." I dragged my gaze down his frame, appreciating the way his shirt hugged his broad shoulders. "Definitely something powerful. Something dangerous."
Lucas leaned in, his scent—something dark and rich—filling my lungs. "And what about you, Lila? What’s your story?"
I shrugged, taking another slow sip of my drink. "Nothing too crazy. I know how to have a good time. I don’t take life too seriously."
His gaze flickered with amusement. "That so?"
I licked a drop of alcohol off my lips, watching his eyes darken. Oh, this is fun.
"You tell me," I murmured, placing a hand on his knee, my touch featherlight.
Lucas let out a breath through his nose, his jaw tightening for the first time that night. He reached up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers brushing my skin.
"You’re dangerous," he murmured, voice husky.
I smiled, slow and knowing. "I could say the same about you."
The tension between us thickened, something electric and untamed. I could feel the heat rolling off him, the way his eyes dropped to my lips, how his breathing had changed just slightly.
Then he moved.
His fingers ghosted up my arm, traveling to my jaw, tilting my face toward his. My heart pounded as he leaned in, his lips barely a breath away from mine.
I could taste it—him—right there. The temptation was overwhelming.
But just before our lips touched, I pulled back, a sly smile curving my mouth.
Lucas exhaled sharply, his grip on my jaw tightening slightly, his frustration evident.
"Not here," I whispered, my voice dripping with mischief.
His eyes flickered with something dark, something dangerous. "You’re teasing me," he said, low and smooth.
I grinned, dragging a finger down his chest. "Maybe."
He exhaled, shaking his head as if trying to regain control. "You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now."
I laughed softly, pressing my lips close to his ear. "Oh, I think I do."
Then, taking his hand, I rose to my feet, tugging him with me.
"Come on," I said, my voice playful, promising.
Lucas stood, towering over me, his fingers tightening around mine. "Where are we going?"
I turned over my shoulder, flashing him an addictive, wicked smile.
"Somewhere more… private."
I didn’t need to say anything else.
Lucas followed, his hand firm in mine, as we slipped out of the club, stepping into the night—where the real fun was just beginning.
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