Casandra Turner gripped the metal dolphin keychain in her palm, the edges digging into her skin as her tight heels clicked down the empty hallway of the Manhattan Ritz-Carlton. She had been brought back from a rural Oregon trailer park two years ago to serve as the Turner family's marriage bargaining chip, and tonight, her fiancé had vanished right before their rehearsal dinner. At the end of the corridor, the heavy carved door of the presidential suite stood slightly ajar, leaking a sliver of dim wall light. Casandra pushed the door open. A heavy wave of Tom Ford perfume hit her nose instantly. She knew that scent by heart—it belonged to her stepsister, Glenora Turner. From the inner bedroom came broken, high-pitched gasps mixed with a man's heavy breathing, cutting through the quiet suite. Casandra's chest tightened. She held her breath and stepped across the thick carpet toward the half-open bedroom door. Peering through the gap, she saw two naked bodies tangled on the king-sized bed. She had expected her blood to boil, yet her mind went dead calm. Not even her fingertips trembled. The man on the bed was Jim Page, the heir she was scheduled to get engaged to tomorrow morning. Straddling his waist was a woman with cascading blonde curls. A cold smirk touched Casandra's lips. She turned toward the suite's wet bar, lifted the large decorative copper basin, and poured in the dirty, icy water left over from the melted champagne buckets until it was full to the brim. Carrying the heavy basin back to the bedroom, she raised her foot and kicked the door wide open. The wood slammed against the wall. The couple on the bed froze, staring at her in sheer panic before scrambling for something to cover themselves. The duvet had been kicked onto the floor, and their scattered clothes couldn't cover both top and bottom at once. Casandra stood at the threshold, her gaze freezing, and swung the copper basin forward without a word. Foul, freezing water drenched them from head to toe. Gasping and shivering like drowned rats pulled from a sewer, Glenora shrieked and burrowed into Jim's chest. Jim instinctively wrapped his arms around her, his face blank with shock. After several seconds, Jim shoved Glenora aside and scrambled off the mattress. "Casandra, listen to me, it's not what it looks like!" Casandra ignored him. She dropped the empty copper basin onto the carpet, pulled out her phone, and held the camera lens steady on the red-blinking recording screen. "This is prime material. Should I start a livestream? I bet it'll trend." Seeing the red recording light, Glenora lunged off the bed toward her, her nails bared. "Casandra, are you out of your mind?" Casandra shoved her stepsister back onto the mattress with one hand, her voice flat. "Isn't this the exact show you lured me up here to see?" Jim grabbed his trousers from the floor, his voice shaking. "Casandra, I swear, your sister seduced me! I had too much to drink tonight!" Casandra swept a look of pure disgust over him. "Birds of a feather." She stopped the recording and slipped the phone into her trench coat pocket. "Tomorrow's engagement party is off. You two can explain why to both families yourselves, or I'll send this video straight to the board members' group chat." She turned on her heel and walked out of the suite. Behind her, Glenora's face went pale at the thought of her parents finding out. She shoved Jim's bare shoulder frantically. "Jim, go after her! Get that phone back!" Snapping out of his daze, Jim yanked his shirt over his head and bolted into the hallway. Casandra heard his heavy footsteps echoing down the corridor. Not wanting to waste energy brawling with two shameless idiots, she ducked around the corner into the nearest restroom. Knowing they would check the women's room first, she pushed open the door to the men's room and stepped into the handicap stall at the far end. Before she could slide the metal latch shut, a tall, dark shadow lunged inside with terrifying speed. Casandra's breath caught, her body tensing to strike—even if this was the men's room, she had claimed the stall first. "Who the hell are you? Get out!" Casandra snapped, glaring at the intruder. Before she could take a step back, a large, calloused hand clamped over her mouth, and the man shoved her hard against the back wall. "Shh. Don't make a sound." The stall barely had room for the toilet, let alone two adults. Pressed chest to chest, his warm breath brushed right against her cheek. Casandra didn't thrash. Blinking slowly, she sized up the stranger through the dim overhead light. He was tall and broad-shouldered, the sharp shadows carving out a lethal jawline and cold, dark eyes. He was undeniably handsome, though after catching Jim in bed with her stepsister five minutes ago, she had zero appreciation for the male species. Outside in the corridor, rapid footsteps approached, accompanied by a low male voice. "You sure it's him?" "Looked like him—vanished in a blink. I'll check the restroom." Casandra frowned slightly. Those men weren't looking for her; they were hunting the guy pinning her against the tiles. Before she could find any humor in their shared bad luck, the outer restroom door banged open, and Jim's heavy, panting footsteps echoed across the tiled floor. A flash of murderous hostility crossed the stranger's dark eyes, and his arm locked around Casandra's waist, crushing her tight against his chest as his hand sealed her lips.

Casandra's spine was slammed flat against the freezing porcelain tiles, every trace of air violently forced from her lungs as she twisted against his iron chest. Dedric Black looked down at her without a trace of warmth, lowering his head until his lips brushed her ear in a lethal whisper. "Quiet, or I'll make you quiet." His scorching breath hit her flushed skin, heavy with the sharp scent of cedar and raw, suffocating authority. Outside the stall, Jim's leather shoes clicked against the floor tiles, each step drawing closer. "I know you're hiding on this floor! Come out and hand over the phone, and we can still talk this through!" Jim's voice bounced off the restroom walls before he cursed under his breath and walked back out into the hallway to check the stairwell. Casandra glared up at the man pinning her, jerking her chin toward the door to demand he let her go. Dedric let out a low, silent sneer. Far from releasing her, he wedged his long, muscular leg straight between her knees with ruthless precision, pinning her lower body into absolute immobility. Right then, the heavy footsteps of the other two men entered the restroom. "Check the stalls," one of them muttered. Dedric's muscles turned to rock against hers. The hostility radiating off him thickened, and the fingers gripping the back of her neck tightened unconsciously. Sensing his momentary distraction toward the door, Casandra parted her lips and sank her teeth hard into the side of his palm. Dedric let out a sharp, muffled grunt, his dark brows drawing into a tight line as his grip instinctively slackened from the blinding sting. Casandra shoved at his chest to slip toward the latch, but his fingers clamped around her wrist like steel handcuffs, yanking her straight back into his chest. "If you have a death wish, crawl out and die alone. Don't drag me down with you," Dedric rasped against her temple, his dark, dangerous eyes pinning hers in the dim light. "You can't even save yourself—what gives you the right to order me around?" Casandra shot back in a harsh whisper, twisting her wrist against his bruising grip. Bang. Bang. The stall doors down the row were being yanked open one by one. Theirs was the very last one. Dedric loosened his grip on her wrist and gave her a sharp look, signaling her to make a noise. A man and a woman locked inside a restroom stall at midnight meant only one thing—it was the easiest way to fool the men outside. Casandra raised her chin and stared straight back at him in silence. He had nearly suffocated her ten seconds ago, and now he expected her to play along? Not a chance. Not screaming for the guards was already her being generous. Thinking she didn't know what to say, Dedric leaned down, his lips brushing her earlobe. "Just say—'Easy, someone's coming.'" Casandra's expression hardened into pure frost. Utter such humiliating words for a total stranger? Not a chance. She wedged her arms firmly between their chests, her dark eyes flashing with unyielding defiance. The metal handle of their stall rattled violently from the outside. "Who's in there? Come out!" Seeing that she was defying him on purpose, Dedric's eyes narrowed. His large hand slid down to her waist and pinched the soft flesh over her hip bone hard. "Ah—!" Pain shot up Casandra's spine, forcing a sharp gasp from her throat before she glared up at him. "What the hell are you—" Before she could finish the curse, a dark shadow dropped over her face, and his cold, firm lips crashed down onto hers, swallowing the rest of her words. Casandra's eyes flew wide open, her mind going completely blank as his dominant presence overwhelmed her senses. There was nothing gentle about it. It was a calculated, punishing kiss meant to silence her. She balled her fists and pounded against his ribs, but her strikes barely registered against his solid frame. Dedric slid one hand down her cheek to lock around her slender waist, pulling her flush against his body before spinning her around and slamming her back against the stall door. The loud thud made the man holding the handle outside jump back. "Who's in there? Open up!" In response, Dedric bumped her against the metal door again, setting off a steady, rhythmic rattling that echoed right after her breathless gasp. Any adult with working ears knew exactly what was happening inside. Outside, the man paused, exchanged an awkward smirk with his partner, and rapped his knuckles lightly against the metal panel. "Bro, take it easy—that door won't hold up to all that." Chuckling under their breath, the two men turned and walked out of the restroom. Dedric lifted his head, breaking the kiss, a low, magnetic chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Thanks." Casandra's chest heaved erratically, her lips swollen and tingling, her waist burning where his hand had bruised her. Without uttering a sound, she channeled all her fury into her shoulder and swung her palm straight for his face.

Dedric intercepted her swinging wrist mid-air with razor-sharp reflexes, locking her in a silent, tense struggle within the suffocating confines of the stall. He hadn't expected her to know how to throw a real punch, though she lacked the raw brute strength to break his hold. Twisting her arm behind her back, he pressed her closer, his voice dropping low. "Keep hitting me and I won't mind making this real." Casandra glared up at him, her chest heaving. "You dare? You're really shameless!" She lifted her stiletto heel and stomped straight down onto the arch of his leather dress shoe. Dedric hissed, pulling his foot back a fraction while his grip on her wrist tightened, his tone turning icy. "You care about shame? Then why'd you sneak into a men's room stall looking for a thrill?" Casandra wrenched her arm against his hold, her cheeks flushing with anger. "Which of your eyes saw me looking for a thrill? When God was distributing wisdom to humanity, were you standing under an umbrella?" Dedric let out a cold scoff, towering over her. "In a men's room stall at midnight—if you're not looking for a thrill, you're looking for a man. Either way, it's a little twisted, don't you think?" Casandra's breath caught in her throat, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Knowing she couldn't out-talk this shameless bastard, she forced a tight nod. "Fine—on account of your limited IQ, I'll grant you're right. Now let me go!" Yanking her wrist free from his fingers, she turned and slid the metal latch open, pulling the stall door inward an inch. Right then, Glenora's shrill voice drifted in from the hallway outside. "Jim, did you find her?" Casandra froze, wrenching the door shut and shoving the latch back into place with a frantic click. Trapped between two vile cheaters outside and a lethal lunatic within, she dragged in a slow, jagged breath and leaned her spine against the cold metal. Between the two, she'd take her chances with the lunatic. Behind her, Dedric's lips curved into an amused smirk. The tables had turned fast—so she was hiding from someone too. Outside the restroom entrance, the conversation continued clearly. "No," Jim said, his voice tight. "Could she have gotten out?" "Impossible, I checked the elevators downstairs—she has to still be on this floor." "Then check the restrooms! You take the men's, I'll check the women's!" Casandra stood completely still against the stall door, no longer cursing or trying to leave. Dedric studied her cold profile in the dim light—pale, flawless skin, and dark, sharp eyes that gleamed like a cornered fox's. Remembering the taste of her lips a moment ago, his gaze darkened. Stepping past her shoulder, he reached a long arm toward the door latch. Before his fingertips touched the metal, a small, soft hand grabbed his sleeve. "What are you doing?" Casandra hissed under her breath. Dedric raised an eyebrow, his expression deadpan. "Going out." "You're not going anywhere—wait!" "Why?" "Because you just used me to cover for you!" Dedric's lips twitched slightly, and he dropped his hand to his side, deciding to return the favor. The outer door swung open, and Jim's footsteps echoed inside again as he began shoving open the stall doors one by one. Looking down at Casandra, a wicked glint flashed in Dedric's eyes. He leaned in close, his voice loud enough to carry through the thin metal door, dripping with suggestive heat. "You women always say no with your lips, but your bodies tell a completely different story." Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pressed her against the door panel, his large hand sliding over her coat as a low, raspy hum vibrated in his throat. "You like it when I do this to you, don't you? Hmm?" Casandra stiffened, realizing he was taking full advantage of the fact that she couldn't expose herself to Jim. She shot daggers at him with her eyes, mouthing silently for him to shut up. Dedric only leaned closer, his breath hot against her neck. "What's there to be shy about? It's not like this is our first time." He pinched her waist again, lowered his head to brush his lips against her jaw, and bumped his shoulder hard against the stall door. Outside, Jim stopped dead in his tracks. Hearing the heavy breathing and the rhythmic banging of the handicap stall door, a voyeuristic grin crept across his face. Completely unaware that his fiancée was inside, he crept closer and bent his knees, craning his neck to peer through the narrow gap at the bottom of the door. Before Jim could catch a glimpse of anything, a thunderous, commanding roar blasted from inside the stall. "GET THE HELL OUT!" The sheer force of the voice made Jim's knees give out. He fell flat on his backside against the wet tiles, his heart hammering harder than when Casandra had kicked the bedroom door open. Scrambling up on all fours, he bolted out of the men's room without looking back. In the hallway, Glenora grabbed his arm anxiously. "Well? Is she in there?" Jim smoothed down his wrinkled shirt, hiding his embarrassment behind an impatient scowl. "Of course not—how could she be in the men's room?" As their footsteps faded down the corridor, Casandra shoved hard against Dedric's chest. "Get off me already." Dedric crossed his arms, looking down at her with a mocking sneer. "Use me and toss me aside—classic." Casandra's jaw tightened, her fingers curling into fists. "Who used you? If you hadn't crowded into my stall, would I be in this mess?" Dedric leaned back against the wall, his dark eyes cool and assessing. "Then tell me—how would you have dodged him without me? By yourself?" Casandra choked on her words, glaring at him. "Without you, I would have walked right out of here!" "Is that so? If you're really that capable, sweetheart... why are you still hiding in a men's room stall with me?"