Under the seven-star hotel's semi-transparent glass dome, the outdoor swimming pool glistened with rippling water. Both the pool and the shore were completely empty, as if someone had reserved the entire venue, quiet as the deep night.
By the poolside, on a massage chair, Sophia had just woken up minutes ago with soreness throughout her body. She hugged her knees with disheveled clothes, staring at the spotted bloodstains on the white blanket, trembling and unable to believe what had happened to her.
Her fiancé, Ethan Grant, had asked her to deliver some documents to the hotel, saying he was meeting clients there for business.
Just as she found the room Ethan mentioned, someone covered her mouth, and she fainted.
Afterward, she lost consciousness and felt like she was having a sensual dream. In the dream, a man's presence enveloped her, his muscular arms restraining her, bending her into various shameful positions, doing whatever he wanted with her.
And that man wasn't her fiancé Ethan.
When she woke up and saw the blood beneath her and the soreness throughout her body, she realized it wasn't a dream.
Why would this happen? Sophia's eyelashes trembled as she still couldn't accept reality.
How could this happen in broad daylight?
What should she do now? Report to the police? Or first... preserve the evidence?
Yes, evidence.
On her underwear, there must be evidence left by that man.
The floor-to-ceiling glass window by the pool creaked open.
She widened her eyes and looked over—
A tall, handsome man with a white towel draped over his broad shoulders, black hair tips still wet with droplets, seemingly just having taken a shower, walked out. His exquisite and noble features exuded the domineering aura of a ruler, his entire being radiating a commanding presence. Though he had just showered, his high bridge nose still carried a hint of redness from intimacy.
At this moment, his deep gaze shifted, stopping on Sophia.
His gaze was like sparks, scalding Sophia into alertness. It was him, the stranger who had just been intimate with her—
In an instant, she pounced like a startled cat: "You scoundrel! Come with me to the police station—"
But she forgot the disparity in strength. Before she could get close, her wrist was firmly captured by the man, and her entire body was lifted up. A wave of heat invaded directly, and the man's voice was sinister and mischievous, mixed with extreme displeasure: "Report me? Ethan Grant personally delivered you to my bed."
Two hours ago, he and his nephew Ethan had just finished a business deal with clients at the family-owned hotel. After the clients left, Ethan had his subordinate bring two glasses of wine, saying it was the first time his uncle had brought him to successfully close a deal, and they should celebrate.
He drank without suspicion, and then his body became burning hot with inexplicable sensations. His assistant helped him to his fixed suite by the first-floor pool to rest.
Unexpectedly, upon entering the room, a slender figure was lying on his bed.
The girl's appearance seemed somewhat familiar.
A few days ago, when he returned to the Alexander mansion, Ethan was looking at photos on his phone. He glanced casually and seemed to have seen this girl on Ethan's phone.
At that time, he had grabbed his nephew's phone and coldly examined the girl on the screen for a while.
Could it be that Ethan thought his uncle was interested in this girl and therefore sent her to his bed?
Thinking about it now, it must have been arranged by that kid Ethan.
He even added something to his drink, making him lose control.
Sophia shuddered.
What did he mean? Impossible...
Ethan called her today to deliver documents; how could he send her to someone else's bed?
But if this man was lying, how would he know Ethan?
She suppressed her terror: "Impossible, Ethan is my fiancé! How could he... how could he do such a thing?"
This girl is actually Ethan's fiancée? Nicholas Alexander's thick eyebrows furrowed, his thin lips exuding a trace of coldness.
That Ethan boy was truly willing to sacrifice.
Just because he looked at her a few more times, Ethan immediately offered up his fiancée with both hands.
Nicholas's gaze fell on Sophia again, coldly saying: "Believe it or not, it's up to you."
Sophia felt like she was falling into a bottomless abyss, her teeth chattering.
Ethan called her out today just to deliver her to this stranger?
A surge of anger and pain welled up, and she tried to control it while hatefully staring at the man before her.
Even if Ethan had set her up, this man was also an accomplice!
She bit her lip and looked around, searching for the door to leave this place.
Nicholas saw her looking around like a wounded wild animal, knowing she wanted to report to the police. His gaze turned cold as he strode over, lifted her up, and walked toward the poolside.
"What are you doing? Let me go! Help! Help!" Sophia restrained her fear and shouted loudly, but only echoes answered her.
The small woman's already loose T-shirt couldn't withstand his forceful pulling, opening wide. From his perspective looking down, Nicholas could clearly see the hills wrapped in her undergarment. His eyes suddenly deepened in intensity as he stopped at the poolside.
She knew he just wanted to throw her into the pool to thoroughly wash away the evidence he had left on her. She bit her lip and called out: "Let me go! Bastard!"
Nicholas just smiled, holding the small woman in his arms, taking a leap from the shore. Tracing a beautiful arc in mid-air, accompanied by Sophia's scream, he jumped into the swimming pool. "Splash!"—
Water splashed up!
Sophia walked home soaking wet, the remnants of alcohol slowly dissipating.
Passersby who saw her torn collar and her state approached with concern: "Miss, did something happen? Do you want me to call the police for you?"
Each time she dazedly shook her head and bit her lip, feeling resentful.
The "evidence" on her body had been washed clean by that man in the pool.
Would reporting to the police help?
Though the sunset was still warm, she felt bone-chillingly cold.
Fortunately, after soaking in the pool for a while, she struggled to push the man away, climbed ashore, and fled through the door.
The man didn't continue to chase her; he just leisurely climbed ashore, sat back on the white beach chair, arms spread, thin lips slightly curved upward. His dominant eyes looked as if watching a small prey fleeing in panic, as if this escaping girl wasn't worth his personal pursuit.
She took out her phone, wanting to call Ethan, but found it had automatically shut down. Pressing the power button several times yielded no response; it had obviously been soaked in water and was broken.
This was her new phone, bought with money she saved by modeling for an online store for a full week, working day and night. She hadn't even used it for two months, and now it was ruined! All because of that damn man!
Sophia had an urge to bite that man to death.
Fortunately, she still had some cash in her pants pocket. She found a 24-hour convenience store and dialed Ethan's number.
She heard a voice from the other end of the phone: "Hello."
