Fallen 3

Fallen 3 Summary

Meadow feels a mix of nervousness and disbelief when she realizes that Alaric Ashford, her ex-fiancé’s boss, is watching her intently from the balcony of the club. Despite warnings from the bartender, who reveals that Alaric owns the club and has instructed him to stop serving her alcohol, Meadow tries to maintain her composure. When a man from Alaric’s security detail offers her water and insists she come upstairs to meet Alaric, Meadow reluctantly agrees, aware that resisting would be futile.

 

As she follows the security guard through the vast club, Meadow enters a cold VIP lounge where Alaric awaits her. She is unsettled by the chilling atmosphere and the intense gaze Alaric fixes on her. In the dim light, she notices a girl kneeling before Alaric, but his attention remains solely on Meadow, which stirs a confusing mix of emotions within her. The tension escalates when Alaric dismisses the girl and approaches Meadow, cornering her against the wall.

 

Alaric’s commanding presence and piercing eyes make Meadow increasingly uneasy, especially as he scrutinizes her slowly and deliberately. His smirk and sharp words reveal that he has been observing her closely and now feels ready to confront her. The chapter ends with Alaric greeting Meadow by name, signaling a significant and possibly intense encounter is about to unfold between them.

Meadow’s Perspective

A shaky laugh slipped out of me, betraying the knot of nerves tightening in my chest as a cold sweat began to gather along my neck. “What exactly do you mean by that?” I asked, trying to sound casual, though my voice wavered.

I desperately tried to push the name from my mind—his name.

Alaric Ashford.

Though I had never seen him in person, whispers about him had followed me all the way from Seattle. Tyler had shared countless tales about how ruthless and icy Alaric was, how every single employee seemed to fear him as if he could squeeze the very life out of them with a mere glare.

But no. This couldn’t be real.

There was absolutely no way I’d end up in the same club as my ex-fiancé’s boss.

And there was certainly no way his intense gaze would be locked onto me alone.

I glanced up toward the balcony again, and there he was—still standing there, watching me like a predator sizing up his prey.

A shiver ran down my spine, sweat prickling my skin. I grabbed the shot glass before me and threw it back, the fiery liquid burning as I slammed it down on the bar, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

“Another one,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

But the bartender shook his head firmly. “No can do, pretty girl. I’ve been warned. I think you’ve had enough tonight.”

My brows knitted together in confusion. “Warned? By who? I never said anything to you.”

His smile was tight, almost forced. “You didn’t. But he did.” He nodded subtly toward the stairs.

Without even turning, I knew exactly who he meant. Alaric. But Alaric hadn’t come down or even spoken to the bartender. “That’s bullshit,” I scoffed, my words slurring slightly. “I didn’t see him say a thing.”

“He didn’t have to.”

I laughed bitterly, pushing my head back exaggeratedly. “Is he your boss or something? And since when do you two get to decide how much I drink?”

“He owns this place, pretty girl. He’s my boss. And honestly, I’d like to keep my legs intact, so no more drinks for you tonight.”

My eyes widened in surprise. Owner of a multi-billion-dollar company and a luxury club? That was far more intriguing than anything J would ever admit to.

I turned back to the balcony, but he had vanished.

Gone.

Too bad—I was ready to storm up those spiral stairs and give him a piece of my mind.

I faced the bartender again, about to protest, when suddenly a man dressed entirely in black appeared beside me, sliding a cold bottle of water toward me.

“Mr. Ashford would like to speak with you,” he said quietly.

I looked down at the water, then back up at the stranger, who wore dark sunglasses despite the dim lighting.

What the hell was wrong with these people?

“Who the hell are you?” I slurred, squinting at him. “And who wears sunglasses at night?”

“I’m part of his security detail,” he replied evenly. “You’d do well to drink this water and come with me upstairs. Mr. Ashford doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Of course he doesn’t.” I rolled my eyes and laughed hollowly. I slid off the stool, ready to leave, but his firm grip on my arm stopped me.

“What the hell?” I exclaimed, struggling against him. “Let me go!”

My attempts to pull free were useless, but after a tense minute, I gave up fighting. He finally released me.

“Drink,” he ordered, twisting open the bottle cap and setting it before me.

I weighed my options.

Running in my current state would be pointless. And who knew what would happen if Alaric caught me?

What exactly did Alaric Ashford want with me?

Would he… cut off my legs?

Maybe it was better to just see what he wanted.

Glancing at the man in black with a glare, I grabbed the bottle, lifted it to my lips, and drank until it was nearly half empty.

Or maybe half full?

God, I was wasted.

“So, what now?” I asked with a sarcastic eye roll.

“You follow me,” he said, leading the way toward the stairs. We ascended, passed through several hallways—this place was huge—and finally stopped in front of a heavy door labeled ‘VIP LOUNGE.’

“Of course it’s VIP,” I muttered under my breath.

The security guard pushed the door open and motioned for me to enter. “He’s waiting inside.”

My heart pounded wildly in my chest as I stepped through the threshold into the lounge.

The chill in the air hit me immediately. Though the club downstairs was cool, this room was freezing cold—almost painfully so.

I could feel my nipples hardening against the thin fabric of my crop top.

Another reminder that I should’ve changed out of this long ago.

Before I could even take in my surroundings, I felt it again.

That piercing gaze—completely fixed on me.

The pounding bass from downstairs couldn’t drown out the frantic beating of my own heart.

I turned slowly to my right—and there he was.

Alaric sat like a king in the corner, legs spread wide, his posture commanding and unyielding.

Between his legs knelt a girl, her head bobbing rhythmically in a motion I knew all too well.

But Alaric wasn’t watching her.

His eyes were locked on me, still hidden in the shadows, his hands gripping her hair as she eagerly took him in.

I felt a flush of shame at the strange, unwanted flutter in my stomach. Ashamed that I was rubbing my legs together, wishing…

No. I couldn’t wish that.

His voice broke through the tension—smooth, deep, and cold.

“Leave.”

I nearly jumped out of my skin, thinking he was speaking to me.

But he wasn’t.

The girl rose quickly, brushing past me as she hurried out the door.

I stood frozen, eyes glued to Alaric as he adjusted himself, tucking back into his pants.

Though the dim light obscured details, I caught a glimpse of something gleaming beneath him.

Piercings?

I quickly averted my gaze, focusing instead on his face as he rose to his full height—tall, broad, and utterly imposing.

He began to take slow, deliberate steps toward me.

With each step he took forward, I took one back—until I was pressed against the cold wall, my chest heaving from the rapid breaths I was taking.

Then, finally, he was close.

Alaric Ashford’s dark, empty eyes bore into me, his gaze slowly scanning my entire form.

Agonizingly slow.

His eyes lingered on my chest longer than they should have, and I felt my breath hitch.

Then, a smirk curled at the corner of his lips.

“I thought I’d need to study you a bit more to be sure, but it seems I have everything I need,” he said sharply, his deep voice sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. “Hello, Meadow Russell.”