When Emily Wren found out Ethan Harding was getting engaged, the whole room felt damp and heavy.
She was about to glance at the news notification on her phone again when the man beside her seemed to notice her drifting thoughts…
Ethan was notoriously picky—every time, she had to give him her full focus.
Emily shoved her phone under the pillow, wrapped her sweaty arm around his neck, panting softly, “Not like that, it’s uncomfortable.”
Her eyes were a little hazy, full of watery light and flirtatious charm.
Her voice was low and sweet, almost like she was being coy.
A dark flicker crossed Ethan’s eyes; his gaze deepened.
It wasn’t until 2 a.m. that the room finally quieted down.
Emily lay flat on the bed, reached for her phone and unlocked it, only to be met with headlines from every platform—news of the Harding heir’s upcoming engagement to the Blake heiress.
Turns out she was the last to know.
A few minutes later, the sound of running water from the bathroom stopped, and the man returned.
Emily turned her head and looked straight at him without dodging.
Broad shoulders, narrow waist, ripped abs and a perfectly sculpted V-line… plus that flawless face. Honestly, by any standard, he was drop-dead gorgeous.
Ethan picked up a crisp, new shirt and slowly buttoned it up from the hem to the collar, covering everything.
Every time Emily watched him put himself back together—neatly dressed and back to his clean-cut, picture-perfect self—she couldn’t help but scoff silently. If it weren’t for the fact he’d just had her pinned down ten minutes ago, whispering low in her ear, she might've actually believed the cold and distant image the outside world had of him.
Once he was fully dressed, Ethan finally looked her way. His voice had lost its previous hoarseness and was back to being distant and calm. “I won’t be coming next week.”
Emily spoke at the same time, “Let’s call it quits. The guy I like is coming back.”
Their voices overlapped, and then silence fell over the room, so quiet it was almost suffocating.
Ethan’s brows furrowed noticeably. The air instantly thickened. “Say that again?”
Emily just smiled at him, all innocent, sat up slowly and repeated, “I said, the guy I like is returning. It’s time we ended this.”
Ethan grabbed her jaw, eyes narrowing dangerously. “Emily, what do you take me for?”
Seeing that he was mad, Emily tried to soothe him, “Obviously my sugar daddy. I mean, wasn’t that our deal from the start? No feelings, just physical. Either of us could walk whenever we wanted. And these past three years? I did my part—you didn’t waste your money, right?”
Ethan stared at her without saying a word.
Emily pointed at the time, reminding him, “You’re clocking out soon… I mean, time to go.”
A cold light crossed Ethan’s eyes. He flipped her over.
Ethan might not have been the nicest guy, but he always came to her just to satisfy physical needs. Stuff like this usually relied on unspoken understanding—if one party wasn't into it, the other wouldn’t push.
So normally, he’d still be attentive to how she felt. But tonight? He didn’t give her even a second to prepare, and everything was rougher than usual.Emily Wren knew that since she'd taken Ethan Harding’s money, she had no say in anything. Even when it hurt like hell, she just gritted her teeth and swallowed it.
The smooth fabric of his expensive shirt brushed against her bare back. His long, slender fingers toyed with her skin like she was some kind of entertainment.
His lips brushed her ear, and his voice was low—almost like a lover whispering sweet nothings. “Does the guy you like know you’ve been sleeping with me for the past three years?”
It sounded almost gentle, but each word cut like a knife.
Emily knew he was trying to degrade her, and yeah—it worked.
Her body reacted in ways she couldn’t control.
Ethan let out a sarcastic chuckle. “So you like hearing that, huh?”
She buried her face into the sheets, fingers clenching the fabric tight, trying to breathe, trying not to fall apart.
A moment later, Ethan tossed her aside without a second glance, grabbing a few tissues from the bedside table and cleaning himself up like it was just another Tuesday.
Then came his voice again, cold and sharp: “Originally, I was going to give you thirty million. Guess that’s off the table now.”
And with that, he turned and walked out.
Emily waited until she heard the door click shut before slowly crawling out of bed and heading for the bathroom.
There was a bit of regret, sure—but she had always believed in karma. Take too much, and there’s a price to pay. And honestly, she’d already taken plenty from him over the years.
After rinsing off the exhaustion, she came back out and stared blankly at the messy bed.
Three years ago, she’d met Ethan for the first time.
Back then, she was picking up shifts at a business club to make ends meet. One client kept bothering her, and just when she decided to quit, he spiked her drink.
She didn’t even know how she managed to escape. When she woke up, she was in Ethan’s bed.
He was already dressed, looking all polished and distant.
He looked at her and said flatly, “Two million, or stick with me?”
It stung like hell. She felt completely humiliated. But at that point, what could she do? Pride didn’t pay the bills, and she was desperate.
Opportunities like that didn’t just fall from the sky for everyone.
She asked, “If I stay, how much?”
Ethan smirked, like he already knew her answer. His voice was icy. “Two million. Monthly.”
She didn’t even hesitate. “Deal. Boss.”
And just like that, she became his well-paid, beautifully-caged canary for three long years.
Ethan usually came by once a week, right on schedule. She treated it like a weekend side gig. Outside of the bed, they barely had any interaction.
Emily thought she did a decent job at the whole arrangement—gave her all in bed, and turned invisible outside of it. Honestly, the man got more than his money’s worth.
That two million a month? Definitely money well spent.
Snapping out of it, Emily hurriedly threw on some clothes and tidied up her things.
She didn’t live here—this was just where she waited for him.
Just as she reached the door, her phone rang.
Her friend’s voice came through, full of excitement: “Emily! Did you hear? Adrian Lane is coming back!”
The bag in Emily’s hand hit the floor with a loud thud.
Her friend kept talking on the other end, but it all turned into static. Emily felt her chest tighten, like something pressing hard against her heart.
Can’t believe it—what she said to Ethan just to end things had actually come true.
Adrian Lane.
He was the one she'd secretly loved for years.
Her teenage dream. Her white moonlight.
