Here’s a polished version of your excerpt with improved grammar, clarity, and flow while keeping the original tone intact:
In the spacious guest room, the only sounds were a man's heavy breathing and the rustling of clothes sliding off and hitting the floor.
Hidden inside the wardrobe, a young woman stared outside with wide, clear black eyes. Her lips twitched involuntarily at the scene before her. She couldn't see the man’s face clearly since his back was turned to her, but one thing was becoming evident—she must have entered the wrong room. Again.
Despite her momentary lapse in judgment, the recorder in her hand didn’t miss a beat. Through the slightly open wardrobe door, its camera remained trained on the man and the woman on the bed.
The man had been escorted in by two tall bodyguards, an indication that his identity was anything but ordinary. And the woman undressing him? Not a stranger at all.
Tahlia. A newly rising idol who had skyrocketed to fame in City A just this year.
Looking at the unconscious man, Tahlia’s eyes gleamed with excitement. Her slender, pale fingers traced his muscular chest, her breath quickening with fascination. The man remained motionless, save for his excessively loud breathing—something about it sounded off.
Evelyn, hidden in the wardrobe, pursed her lips but kept recording.
As a reporter for Fruit Stand Entertainment, the most notorious tabloid in City A, she had come to this hotel following a tip about an illicit affair. But somehow, yet again, she had ended up in the wrong room.
A soft, seductive voice rang out, pulling Tahlia from her trance.
"KING, this might be a bit unconventional, but as long as I can have you, it’s worth it. Enjoy."
With that, she reached for the man’s belt buckle.
Snap.
The sound was unusually loud in the otherwise quiet room.
Tahlia’s breath hitched for a second before she quickly regained her composure.
"Heh..."
A deep, male voice—one that most certainly did not belong to a woman—broke the silence.
The man, who had kept his eyes shut until now, suddenly opened them.
His gaze was sharp and piercing, cold as a hawk’s, locking onto Tahlia just as she unfastened his belt.
Tahlia’s hand froze mid-motion. Then, forcing a charming smile, she tried to recover.
"You’re awake?" She let out a breathy laugh. "King, you were just too passionate earlier—I couldn't resist."
The man didn’t respond. His stare remained icy, and a hint of disdain slowly surfaced in his eyes.
Under that chilling gaze, Tahlia felt her confidence waver. She parted her lips to explain, but no words came out.
King was not a man who could be fooled easily. Even under the influence of whatever drug had been forced on him, he wouldn't fall for such a pathetic lie.
"Get out."
His voice was low, yet it carried an unyielding authority. His regal presence alone left no room for defiance.
Tahlia’s face paled. She opened her mouth again, but the words remained stuck in her throat.
Hurriedly, she draped her dress over herself and bolted out of the room as though escaping a death sentence.
Bang!
The door slammed shut behind her, plunging the room into eerie silence once more.
Inside the wardrobe, Evelyn heart pounded wildly in her chest.
The emperor of the American empire—the ruler of the entire country—King!
She had just witnessed King himself in a scandalous situation.
Slowly, she reached for her voice recorder, her fingers trembling slightly as she leaned against the wardrobe, struggling to calm her racing heart.
The room remained dead silent.
So silent that she could clearly hear a heartbeat.
A heartbeat that did not belong to her.
Rowan Charles narrowed his eyes, his sharp gaze landing on the freestanding wardrobe near the bed.
The slight gap in its door made the wardrobe’s presence all the more conspicuous.
Shaking off the lingering dizziness in his head—along with a certain familiar but unwanted sensation—Rowan stared at the wardrobe for a moment before speaking in a low, commanding tone.
"Come out."
Evelyn heart nearly stopped.
For a second, she was convinced that the young emperor—Rowan Charles—had seen her.
But she quickly dismissed the thought.
There’s no way. He can’t be talking to me... right?
Unable to resist her curiosity, she cautiously peeked through the wardrobe’s narrow opening.
A face.
A sharply defined, dangerously close face.
His chiseled features, those dark, penetrating eyes, and the sheer displeasure radiating from his expression made her breath hitch.
His intimidating presence struck her like a force of nature.
Before she could even process what was happening, a reflexive scream escaped her lips.
"Ah!"
Damn it!
The thought barely had time to form before the wardrobe door was abruptly yanked open—exposing her entirely to the man before her.
