The open-air swimming pool shimmered under the night sky, casting a dazzling array of lights and shadows into the room. In front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, two figures were intertwined. The man leaned against the sofa, his face strikingly handsome as if intricately carved. His demeanor was cool, except for his pitch-black eyes, which were intense, suppressing his emotions. The voluptuous woman in a bikini was irresistibly alluring to him. Though her attempts were clumsy, they were still effective.
Conrad Madison pinched her chin and pushed her away slightly, forcing her to look into his eyes. His voice was deep and husky. “Say your name.”
With a hint of drunken annoyance, she answered, “Shayla... Britney...”
“I am Conrad,” he said, controlling his restless head, insisting firmly.
Sultry Shayla, cocking her head, was single-mindedly bent on devouring the delectable "treat" in front of her. A little creature, oblivious to the danger.
“What is my name?” he asked through clenched teeth, his voice restrained yet firm. Seeing the corners of her eyes cloud over with tears, he softened his tone. “If you get it right, I’ll give it to you.”
She couldn’t answer and hummed irritably through her nose.
So, he repeated it again.
“...Conrad... Madison...” Shayla followed, looking at his lips. Her eyes shimmered, appearing aggrieved, as she obediently repeated.
No sooner had the words left her lips than her world spun.
“Remember who I am,” he commanded.
His tone was domineering and direct, and the woman beneath him shrank back, whimpering.
The roles had reversed, and the control had shifted.
The night was deep.
By the time she woke up, it was midnight. The sound of running water from the bathroom startled Shayla, who instantly sat up from her prone position.
The luxurious but unfamiliar room was filled with a muddled, chaotic aura. She felt as though her entire body had been trampled by an army. As she awoke, various lascivious images flooded her mind like a tidal wave.
Shayla pressed her palm against her temple, her head throbbing with pain. Awakening from her drunken stupor, she remembered what she had done.
She was in Miami, the richest city in the United States. She had taken a part-time job as a translator, accompanying her client there.
Having just graduated from a prestigious art academy in New York, she had been accepted into one of the top art academies in the world—the Florence Academy of Fine Arts. She had come to bustling Miami in July to earn her tuition fees.
Yet, on her first night of arrival, she received screenshots of her boyfriend Brooke’s hookup chat history and intimate photos. The sender was his college classmate and good friend, whom she regarded as a mutual friend—a senior from the Academy of Fine Arts, Jackie Queen.
The subject of Brooke Haynes' hookups and his sexual partner was Jackie herself.
Quite a dramatic turn of events indeed.
The story of a silent admirer who at last sees his dreams come true. Just as Shayla is about to study abroad, a confession unfolds, sparked by Brooke’s unwillingness to break up, causing Jackie to wish Shayla would take the initiative and step away.
To hell with them both.
She replied with just five words: “Trash, it’s all yours.”
What followed was a barrage of desperate calls and messages from Brooke, which she found disgusting. She promptly blocked him.
She’d known Brooke for four years. He was her senior at school, a young man who had been attentive and persistent ever since Shayla started her freshman year.
He was a well-known prodigy at the school, with a wealthy businessman father and a successful mother who was a senior manager at a central enterprise. He himself was filled with talent and good looks.
Shayla’s parents had died in a car accident seven years ago. She had lived with an uncle for half a year during her freshman year, but she couldn’t adjust and began living on campus instead.
Because of this, she hadn’t felt true care and consideration from others for a very long time. So, by her junior year, she had given in to Brooke’s relentless pursuit.
He had been incredibly good to her; he spoiled and cared for her, protected her fragile and sensitive self-esteem, and never let her feel the disparity between their material conditions.
He even found a job as a designer after graduation and became a nine-to-five worker.
The scene where he excitedly laid out their promising future was still vivid in her mind.
“From now on, I need to work hard and make money because I have to provide for my star.”
“Taking care of my star is not easy. She may seem like a delicate flower, but she’s so sophisticated... Okay, okay, you’re not sophisticated; it’s just that I want to spoil you.”
“Star, will you marry me after graduation?”
At that time, she had already started considering the idea of studying abroad.
Later, when Brooke found out she had received an offer from the University of Edinburgh, they had their first argument. He claimed he had waited for her for two years, saying no other man could tolerate what he had endured. Two years, he insisted, was his limit; he couldn’t wait another two years, no matter what.
So, this was his excuse for cheating? Because Jackie was willing to sleep with him and he just couldn’t refuse?
Shayla’s swollen lips curled into a particularly scornful smile. Call it self-abandonment or revenge, but tonight, Shayla had decided to let loose.
As she got out of bed to find her clothes, her legs weakened, and she almost stumbled. The throbbing pain in certain areas reminded her of the push-and-pull between resistance and pleasure she’d experienced throughout the night. The intensity of it had made her sweat profusely, hastening her alcohol metabolism.
In her mind, a face devoid of emotion but with burning eyes appeared.
She was determined to remember his name, forcing herself to repeat it over and over—Conrad.
He seemed to enjoy watching her, never missing even the slightest reaction or expression, causing her to suffer enjoyably.
Shayla felt a numbness in her thighs. She hastily gathered her scattered bikini and hollowed-out beach cover-up from the floor and couch, hurriedly putting them on and escaping her luxurious suite.
Moments later, after finishing his bath, Conrad walked out of the bathroom to find an empty bed. He paused mid-step.
His eyes, heavy with satisfaction, narrowed slightly, and the corners of his lips curved into an amused, dangerous smirk.
Shayla—
A star who eats and runs.
Alright.
Pretty bold.
