In the dimly lit hotel room, a man and a woman tangled together, their bodies pressed close in a haze of intimacy.
Isabella White moved instinctively under the man’s control, her hands clutching at his back as his hips pushed down. A soft, breathy whimper slipped from her lips.
"It hurts..."
The husky murmur, like a kitten’s mewl, sent a shiver down Oliver Scott’s spine. He paused, then leaned in, brushing a gentle kiss at the corner of her eye, his movements slowing and turning tender.
Outside, rain hammered down hard, streaking down the windows and pooling on the floor in scattered trails.
She didn’t even know how to describe what she felt—it was chaos, a swelling wave of emotion she’d never experienced in all her twenty-some years.
By the time it was over, three hours had passed, and the rain had finally stopped.
Barely keeping her eyes open, Isabella reached for her phone and typed out three messages, one after another, all to the same person.
"Don’t forget to buy that thing."
"I’m already in bed."
"Hurry up."
She was so focused she didn’t even catch Oliver glancing at her screen, eyes narrowing slightly.
A teasing look flickered in his dark eyes. "What’s the matter? Didn’t get your fill?"
Isabella froze, legs tensing up by reflex.
Didn’t get her fill?
Seriously?
She was already exhausted to the point she thought she might pass out.
Clutching the sheets tighter around her bare body, she turned her gaze to the man beside her. The warm, golden glow from the bedside lamp cast shadows on his flawless face—it was almost unnaturally perfect, the kind of face that made people stare.
Watching his lips move, her mind flashed back to how those same lips had crushed down on hers earlier, hungry and unrelenting.
Her cheeks were still hot from earlier, but that sudden memory made her feel like her face was on fire. Even the tips of her ears turned red.
Right then, her phone rang.
Seeing the caller ID, she hesitated for a second before placing it to her ear.
Adrien King’s voice came through, anxious and out of breath.
"I just got home, Yiyi. Where are you?"
Isabella said, "At a hotel."Adrien King froze. "Hotel? What are you talking about? Didn’t you say you were already in bed? Isabella, what’s going on?"
What’s going on?
Isabella White’s mind flashed back to what she saw a few hours ago in the parking lot.
Tonight was supposed to be her engagement party with Adrien. Everything had looked perfect—until the after-party, when she caught him tangled up with another woman in his car. Just like that, everything she believed in crumbled.
She went back inside, grabbed a bottle of red wine, and chugged it like water.
Blame it on the alcohol—but she’d pulled a random guy into a hotel with her.
Problem was, the second they stepped into the room, she panicked.
Sure, Adrien had no trouble tossing decency aside during their engagement night. But she couldn’t let herself fall that low. Or... she thought she couldn’t.
But the man in front of her didn’t pause. Right there in the doorway, he pinned her with one arm, his big hand gripping her waist tight, and his kiss hit like a storm—relentless, wild. No room to say no.
Everything after that became a blur.
He pressed her against the mirror, every inch of her swaying, seductive, shifting from pose to pose like they were in some dance neither rehearsed.
It all just... happened.
When it was over, she felt this weird rush, a bitter sense of revenge bubbling in her chest. That’s when she sent Adrien those three messages.
Hearing his furious shouting through the phone barely even registered at first. She blinked, slowly returning to reality.
Then, with a calm like she was just chatting with a stranger, she said, “Oops, looks like I sent the wrong person.”
Adrien: “What?!”
When he realized what she meant, he exploded. “Sent it to who?! Who did you go to a hotel with?! You cheated on me?! Isabella, I’m telling you, don’t you dare—”
She didn’t listen. With a loud “beep,” she hung up.
Little did she know...
Oliver Scott had heard everything. The room wasn’t that big, and the acoustics weren’t doing her any favors.
He chuckled quietly, the sound deep and low in his chest, his eyes locked on her, dark and unreadable.
She started feeling jittery like maybe she’d been watched for longer than she thought.
Lowering her head, she tried to slink away without drawing more attention.
Too bad...
From behind her, Oliver’s calm, magnetic voice cut through the room like a hook.
“Trying to sneak off without a goodbye, huh? Nephew’s little fiancée.”
