Chapter 36

DIANA

Iwas sad to be going home but looking forward to seeing where Hudson lived. I was curious about him and where he came from. I felt like I knew Hudson as the man he was now, but not the man he had been before.

"Ready?" Hudson asked.

"Reluctantly, yes." I nodded.

"You don't want to leave?"

"I don't want to leave, but it's time," I replied. "We had an amazing time."

"I'm going to take you all around the world," he said. "I want you to see everything on your bucket list and then some."

"I look forward to that," I said. "And I really can't wait to see the city. It's another place I've always wanted to visit. Being so close to Manhattan, you would think I had visited, but I just never had the chance."

"I will do my best to show you as much as I can," he said.

"I know you will."

We boarded the jet for the long flight back to the States. We watched a movie, slept, and talked a bit about his family. I had no idea how big his family was. It was going to be just a little intimidating.

An attendant alerted us that we would be touching down soon. I quickly turned my attention to look out the window. New York, the city that never slept, stretched out below us.

The skyline glimmered with a thousand different colors, each building competing for attention in the sky. Hudson pointed out the landmarks that were visible from our height. Central Park. The Empire State Building.

As we descended, I felt the excitement bubbling in my chest. It wasn't just the thrill of finally being in New York City but also the anticipation of exploring this place with Hudson as my tour guide.

When we landed, he held my hand as we walked off the jet. He looked at me with a smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement and something deeper. "Welcome to New York City," he said, his voice carrying a hint of pride.

We climbed into the waiting luxury town car with his hand holding mine. The streets were alive with activity, a symphony of honking horns and bustling crowds. The incessant honking of taxi cabs and the bright billboards were everything I'd imagined. Maybe more. It was a bit of sensory overload.

"Is it what you expected?" Hudson asked, looking at me with a smile.

"It's even more," I admitted, looking out the window. "It's like a whole different world."

And then, all too soon, we arrived at Hudson's high-rise apartment building. I stepped out of the car and had to lean way back to see it all. It was a gleaming tower of glass and steel that seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky. My heart raced as we stepped out of the car and made our way inside.

But nothing could have prepared me for what awaited us within. The lobby looked like something out of a luxury hotel. He led me to the elevator, which was just as fancy as the rest of the building.

"How high up do you live?" I asked him.

"The top." He grinned.

"Seriously?" I asked.

"Are you afraid of heights?"

"I don't know." I giggled nervously. "I guess we're about to find out."

Hudson's penthouse was like something out of a magazine. The space was vast and sprawling, with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered panoramic views of the city.

It was huge. And empty. Something felt off. The air was heavy with the scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke. It was clear this place was more of a party pad than a home.

My eyes fell on the blow-up doll lounging on the sofa. Hudson saw me notice and grinned. "Joke," he said. "I swear, I've never touched her."

I smiled, but it didn't feel all that natural. "Hudson, have you been living like this?" I asked, trying to keep the judgment out of my tone.

"You don't have to worry." He chuckled and then looked around at his apartment as if really seeing it for the first time. "I haven't exactly been living here. I've stayed but not lived. There's a difference."

I looked around the spacious room again. The extravagance felt hollow without the warmth of a home. My eyes wandered to the kitchen. The luxurious chef's kitchen that would make any chef drool. But this kitchen looked more like a bar. Red solo cups littered the counter. A massive liquor cabinet dominated the dining area. It all felt so impersonal, so devoid of any sense of warmth or belonging.

I turned to Hudson and put on a fake smile. "This is a really nice apartment."

"Yeah, it is." He nodded. "It's weird because I haven't really spent much time here."

"Why not?"

"Because this is my home." He shrugged. "I didn't want to bring a lot of people in here. I didn't party with the best type of people."

"But it looks like you've had a few people here," I pointed out.

"People I knew," he clarified. "Not people that were going to throw shit off the roof or get me kicked out of the building."

I looked around again. "This isn't what I expected," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I thought—I thought your home would be different."

He looked at me, his expression unreadable. "It's just a place to crash," he replied nonchalantly, but I could see a flicker of something in his eyes, a hint of vulnerability that belied his casual demeanor.

Obviously, he cared about the place if he chose not to bring just anyone over. But there was just something so strange about him and this place. It wasn't the man I knew. I wasn't sure what I expected but not this.

I couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment that washed over me. This wasn't the Hudson I knew, the Hudson I had come to care for. This place felt shallow, devoid of any real meaning or connection.

I stood there, surrounded by the trappings of wealth and excess, and I couldn't help but wonder if I truly belonged in this world. This was Hudson's world. This was him in his natural habitat. If this was the real Hudson, who was the man I knew?

"Want to see the best part of this place?" he asked.

I assumed he was talking about the bedroom. "Sure."

"Follow me," he said.

He led me up to the rooftop patio, the breeze from the city below tousling my hair. "What is this?" I asked with surprise.

"This is the best part." He grinned.

I glanced around at the breathtaking view, the vast expanse of Manhattan stretching out before us in all directions. Hudson pointed toward his father's estate. Obviously, I couldn't see anything, but I smiled and nodded.

"This is incredible," I said, trying to push aside the unease gnawing at me.

Hudson smiled, oblivious to my inner turmoil. "I thought you'd like it up here. It's my favorite spot to unwind."

He took a step closer to me, his gaze fixed on the cityscape before us. I watched as he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as though savoring the cool night air. He was different here.

"Sometimes I come up here to think," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "It's peaceful, you know? Away from all the noise and chaos. Just me and the night sky."

"It's high." I smiled.

He was quiet for a minute before he gave himself a visible shake. "Come on, I've arranged for a surprise."

"What?"

"Downstairs," he said and grabbed my hand. "My lady gets the best of the best."

"What are you talking about?" I asked with a laugh.

"You'll see."

We went back into the penthouse. I watched him go to the door. A few seconds later, a stream of people came into the penthouse. I was a little confused.

"Hudson?

He smiled. "I brought the spa to you," he said.

"You did what?"

"These people are ready to pamper you," he said. "I've signed you up for a massage, a mani-pedi, and a facial. While you do that, I'll get some dinner for us."

My eyes widened in surprise. "Hudson, this is too much," I protested, but Hudson only shook his head.

"No such thing as too much for you," he responded with a grin. He turned to the professionals he had ushered in. "Take good care of her, okay?"

The next few hours were a blur of pampering and indulgence. I was massaged till every kink in my body smoothed out, my hands and feet were gently cared for, and a rejuvenating mask did wonders for my skin. All the while, I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. Yes, it was luxurious and incredibly thoughtful, but it was so excessive. It was as if Hudson was trying to buy my affections with lavish gifts and pricey services.

Still, I couldn't deny how nice it felt. The canapés that were served were exquisitely delicious, and the champagne? I hadn't even known that champagne could be so smooth and delightful. And the massage? Well, it was heavenly. All the little things were so thoughtful.

I didn't know what to think of him. What did this mean? We hadn't defined our relationship yet, hadn't put labels on anything. Was I just a summer fling to him, a distraction from his billionaire lifestyle? Did I even trust him enough to let myself fall deeper?

Hudson returned shortly after my facial, carrying dinner. "How do you feel?" he asked.

"Like a duchess," I replied, my voice sounding slightly distant to my ears. The pampering had left me in something of a dreamy haze.

He chuckled at that, his eyes sparkling with what looked like genuine happiness as he set the food on the table. "That's the goal," he said, pulling out a chair for me. I watched as he began serving us both.

The food was, of course, excellent, and yet another reminder of Hudson's extravagant lifestyle. Lobster, grilled asparagus with hollandaise sauce, truffle mashed potatoes. Each dish tasted amazing.

Despite the food, I couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty that lingered in the air.

"Hudson," I finally ventured, breaking the silence. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, what's on your mind?"

I couldn't. I couldn't do it. I didn't want to ruin this.

"I was just wondering what brought you to New York from Vancouver?"

He chuckled. "My family. I told you my dad was with my aunt now. He relocated here. A few of my brothers did. And my dad's brother's, my uncle, has a small army of sons here. It seemed like a good move. A change of pace."

"Did you party a lot back in Vancouver?"

"Yep." He nodded. "I have pretty much partied everywhere."

I was curious to understand more about the man I was clearly falling for. "You sound—sad. Regretful."

Hudson's features softened. His eyes met mine thoughtfully. "I suppose after a while, you just get used to a certain lifestyle. The parties, the people? They become part of your life. You can't see beyond that life until you're out of it."

I nodded slowly, trying to process what he was saying. I had never lived that kind of lifestyle. In my world, parties were for birthdays or celebrations, not an everyday occurrence.

"Are you out of it?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I think so."