In the pitch-black room of the Grand Horizon Hotel, two silhouettes tangled together in a heated embrace. "Hey, easy. You might wake her up..." the woman whispered, melting against the man as his hands roamed freely over her body. Meanwhile, Bianca Scott lay motionless on the bed. A splitting headache pounded against her skull, and her body burned with an unnatural fever. Forcing her eyes open felt like lifting lead weights. But when she finally managed to part her heavy lids, the sight before her sent a jolt of ice through her veins! Her boyfriend, Haris Carter, had another woman pinned against the window, and that woman was her stepmother, Stacey Scott! "Relax. She's out cold. The dose I gave her could drop a rhino," Haris assured Stacey, not even sparing a glance at Bianca on the bed. The next moment, Haris hoisted Stacey up, his movements turning rough and urgent, drawing loud, breathless moans from her lips. Bianca clenched her fists beneath the covers, fighting through the fog in her brain. Stacey was the one who had set her up with Haris, so she never would have imagined her stepmother was sleeping with him behind her back! Haris had invited her to dinner that evening. One glass of wine from him, and everything had gone black. It turned out this entire night was nothing but a sick trap set by this shameless pair! "When Bianca wakes up and realizes she slept with some random guy tonight, how do you think she'll take it?" Stacey asked between breathless gasps. "She won't know the difference. As long as she thinks I was the one in her bed, she'll be desperate to marry me! Once that happens, we'll have total control over the Scott family's assets—and her mother's estate, too!" Haris grunted, thrusting deeper into Stacey. The sheer malice in Haris's voice made Bianca shudder with fear. "And what about her brother?" Stacey asked, sweat glistening on her forehead. "Simple," Haris sneered with a malicious smirk. "Once I'm pulling the strings at the Scott family, I'll find a way to lock him away for good." Stacey giggled, riding his rhythm, her eyes gleaming as if she could already taste victory. Then, a darker thought crossed her mind, and her expression twisted. "I refuse to let her live happily! Once you marry her, don't you dare touch her, even if you're sharing a bed!" Haris gripped Stacey's waist tight, his pace turning frantic. "What do you want me to do with her?" he asked, breathless. "Hmm... Arrange a car crash. Make it look like a tragic accident. Whether she dies or ends up a cripple for the rest of her life, I leave that to you!" Stacey didn't hesitate to plot murder in the middle of their pleasure. Her face twisted with pure hatred for the stepdaughter she wanted eliminated. Drenched in sweat, Haris offered a wicked smile and nodded. "Of course. Whatever you want, babe." As their moans reached a crescendo, Bianca squeezed her eyes shut, wishing the floor would swallow her whole. Once they finished and quickly dressed, Haris and Stacey cast one last satisfied glance at Bianca's motionless form. Smirking, they slipped out of the room. The second the door clicked shut, Bianca's eyes snapped open. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks, soaking into the pillow. "I was so stupid," she choked out, her voice trembling. "Haris Carter! I trusted you with everything, and you're just a heartless bastard plotting against my family!" Pure, unadulterated rage coursed through her trembling body. She tried to push herself up, desperate to escape, but her limbs felt like lead. The drug in her system was too strong; she couldn't even stand! Gritting her teeth, she reached blindly for the fruit knife on the nightstand and dragged the blade across her arm. Blood welled up instantly, but the sharp sting of pain cut through the drug's haze. Just as she staggered to her feet, she heard footsteps approaching the door. Without a second thought, she threw open the window and climbed out onto the narrow ledge. Seconds later, the door burst open, and Stacey and Haris's voices echoed from the room she had just left. "What the hell is this? Where is she? Did she get away?" "She couldn't have gone far! And with that drug in her system, if she doesn't sleep with a man tonight, she's dead anyway!" Heart pounding, Bianca refused to look down. She gritted her teeth and inched her way along the ledge toward the next balcony. Just as her foot found solid ground, a hand shot out from the dark curtains of the adjacent room, clamped over her mouth, and yanked her inside. Thrown off balance, Bianca instinctively grabbed a fistful of the man's collar, sending them both crashing to the floor. The man landed squarely on top of her. A distinctly masculine, intoxicating scent flooded her senses, making the fine hairs on her arms stand on end. Logic screamed at her to push him off, but when she parted her lips to speak, all that escaped was a soft, seductive moan. "Did Justin send you?" In the dim light, the man's voice was low, smooth, and dangerously calm. Strangely, it sent a wave of comfort washing over her feverish brain. Driven by a restless, burning need, Bianca pressed her palms flat against his chest, feeling his hard, sculpted muscles through his shirt. Her heart hammered wildly as the heat pooling in her belly flared into a raging inferno. She had no idea who Justin was, and right now, she couldn't care less. All that mattered was surviving the night. "Are you..." she panted, her voice weak and husky. "Are you handsome?" Dave Evans furrowed his brow in the darkness. Still, he answered with deadly seriousness. "I suppose you could say I'm passable." "Good. Then at least you're not ugly." Giving herself to a handsome stranger was a hell of a lot better than being tossed to some homeless man in the streets! Bianca reached up, her trembling fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "Thank you," she whispered. Then, she pulled him down and crashed her lips against his. The aphrodisiac took total control. They spent the entire night tangled together in a haze of raw passion, leaving a trail of heat from the floor to the sofa, the bed to the balcony. The room echoed with heavy pants and soft moans until utter exhaustion finally dragged them into sleep. Bianca had no idea how long she'd been out. When she finally blinked her eyes open, a sharp wince escaped her lips as she tried to sit up. Her entire body ached from the wild night, her skin blooming with dark, undeniable hickeys. Then, the sound of running water from the bathroom registered in her hazy mind. Her eyes went wide. The man she had practically assaulted last night was in the shower! Terrified he might demand answers—or worse, hold her accountable—she scrambled out of bed and threw on her clothes. She scribbled a hasty thank-you note on the hotel stationery. As a gesture of gratitude, she emptied the loose change from her purse and left a piece of her jewelry on the nightstand beside it. Not daring to waste another second, she bolted from the room and fled the hotel as fast as her aching legs could carry her. By the time Dave stepped out of the bathroom, the room was empty. His sharp gaze swept the space, pausing on the unmistakable drops of crimson staining the tangled white sheets. His frown deepened. Then, he spotted the little arrangement left on the nightstand. A dark smirk tugged at his lips. He was the heir to the Evans family, the ruthless CEO of the Phoenix Alliance Group, and the shadow king of the city's economy. Dave could hardly believe a woman had just used him for a one-night stand and slipped away, leaving behind nothing but a pathetic tip of less than five hundred dollars and a scribbled note. Shaking him off wasn't going to be that easy! Ten minutes later, fully dressed and impeccably sharp, Dave stood tall with a lit cigarette between his fingers. He took a long, slow drag, exhaling a plume of smoke as his cold eyes dropped to the man kneeling trembling on the floor before him.

The bound young man dropped to his knees, crying, "I'm sorry, Dave. I did it for your own good! You're twenty-eight and you've never had a girlfriend—never even flirted. I was worried about you, so... I took matters into my own hands!" Dave's cold gaze shifted to the stark bloodstains on the bedsheets. "What is her name?" he demanded. "What?" Justin Wilson, his best friend, blinked in confusion. "What woman?" For twenty years, Dave hadn't shown a shred of interest in women, leading Justin to assume he simply didn't like them. Justin had sent someone to his room last night, but it hadn't been a woman—it was a man! So what woman was Dave talking about? Justin's eyes widened in sheer shock. "Dave, I..." Before Justin could utter another word, Dave cut him off with a swift, brutal kick to the shoulder. "Pull all the surveillance footage from last night," Dave ordered, his voice like ice. "Find this woman, even if you have to tear the city apart. And by the way, the head of our overseas project just died of malaria. If you don't find her, you'll be taking over his position immediately." Scrambling to recover, Justin stared up at the towering figure before him, taking a moment to process the threat. A sudden wave of pity washed over him for the mystery woman. Everyone knew Dave was ruthless; whether she lived or died would depend entirely on his mood. Still, whoever had been with Dave last night certainly had guts to leave him in this state. Across town, the woman in question was taking a taxi straight home. The cruel scheming of Stacey and Haris played on a sickening loop in her mind. Fury boiled in her veins, her fists clenched so tightly that her nails dug half-moons into her palms. No, she couldn't let them get away with this. She had to take action. She had to rip the mask off and expose their true intentions. Forcing her breathing to steady, Bianca stepped through the front door with a carefully composed expression, as if it were just another ordinary morning. The second she crossed the threshold, her father, Peter Scott, shot up from the living room couch. "Where were you last night? I called your teacher and was told you didn't return to your dorm," he demanded in a dangerously low voice, glaring at her sternly. Peter glared at her, looking seconds away from exploding. "Peter, please, calm down. Getting angry won't solve anything. Bianca is young, she's still learning," Stacey intervened, feigning understanding as she rubbed his arm to soothe his temper. She then turned to Bianca, her eyes swimming with manufactured sympathy. "Bianca, sweetheart, don't be upset by your father's anger. We're just worried about your safety. Imagine our panic when we found out you hadn't gone back to your dorm. We were terrified something awful had happened to you. This isn't about the family's reputation— it's about you." As she spoke, Stacey's eyes were filled with apparent concern. If Bianca hadn't caught Stacey plotting with Haris the night before, the "worried parent" act might have actually worked. But now, Bianca was clear-headed and knew Stacey's true intentions. Stacey's honeyed words were only fueling Peter's anger further. "Nonsense!" Peter barked. "You're in your twenties and you're still acting like a child! It seems I've spoiled you for far too long. Today, you're going to learn a lesson!" Peter grabbed a stick and swung it toward Bianca! Just as the stick was about to strike her, Bianca quickly dropped to her knees in front of him. "Dad, I'm sorry," she said, looking up at him. "I went out playing cards with some friends last night and lost track of time. My phone died, so I couldn't call. I never meant to worry you." Peter froze, completely caught off guard by the apology. Bianca always fought back on everything, a habit that had severely fractured their relationship over the years. What was going on now? Why was she acting like a completely different person? Bianca knew exactly how to play this game. Stacey had an easy time manipulating Peter, and right now, Bianca had zero proof of her stepmother's scheming. If she told her father everything, he would instantly believe Stacey over her. So, she chose to play the obedient daughter and wait for the perfect moment to strike. "Dad, Stacey isn't my real mom, so she doesn't understand me the way you do," Bianca continued, her voice trembling just enough. "You know me best, and I would never do anything to ruin our family's reputation!" Tears welled in her eyes as she spoke, making her look incredibly pitiful. Even though Peter and Bianca's mother had been divorced for years, he had always been a caring father. Hearing his daughter's genuine-sounding apology instantly softened his heart. He put away the stick and said gently, "It's good that you've recognized your mistake. Just be more careful next time, alright? Now, get up." Stacey's jaw tightened slightly at how easily Peter had forgiven her, but she had to stick to the plan. Pushing down her resentment, she forced a bright, relieved smile. "See? It was just a misunderstanding. Bianca is a good girl; she wouldn't do anything wrong. Right, Bianca?" Bianca caught the subtle dig but kept smiling, even as her eyes remained ice-cold. "Oh, Bianca, your father has something to tell you," Stacey said, nudging Peter with a meaningful look. Peter took a deep breath and settled back onto the couch. He cleared his throat and looked at her earnestly. "Bianca, I've thought about it, and Stacey is right. I shouldn't force you into a marriage you don't want, or stop you from marrying someone you love. Even if Haris doesn't come from a wealthy family, the two of you care about each other. That's what matters." Bianca masked her shock at her father's sudden change of heart. He had always viewed Haris as an opportunist who used powerful women to climb the social ladder, which was exactly why he had opposed their relationship. Long before Bianca had even met Haris, Peter had already picked out a suitable husband for her: Isaac Ford, the youngest son of the prominent Ford family. But Isaac was a notorious playboy who constantly got into trouble— a fact Bianca despised, and a major source of the bitter tension between her and her father. "And this morning, I heard that Isaac got into a brawl at a club over an escort. It made the news!" Peter said with a heavy sigh. "I could never forgive myself if I forced you to marry a man like that. As long as Haris treats you well, I won't oppose your relationship anymore. Whenever you can, invite him over and we'll talk about an engagement." "What? An engagement?" Bianca echoed, genuinely stunned. Peter nodded. "Your birthday is coming up. Why not take the opportunity to get engaged? We can celebrate both occasions at once, and the family will be happy for you. You're not getting any younger. Let's hurry up and settle your marriage so I won't have to worry about you anymore." As the words sank in, Bianca realized exactly what had happened. Stacey must have been whispering in Peter's ear the entire time she was away. Stacey's sudden eagerness to see her married off to Haris was definitely not a good sign—especially after the betrayal Bianca had witnessed with her own eyes just last night.

Bianca weighed her options. She was having a hard time finding evidence against Stacey and Haris, so why not play along with their plan until they slipped up? Forcing a small smile, Bianca walked over to Peter, lowered her head, and took his hand. "Thank you, Dad. I'm sorry about our argument earlier. I promise I'll listen to you from now on." Stacey exhaled a quiet breath of relief at the accepted engagement. Clearly, Bianca had no idea she and Haris were behind last night's setup. But... where did Bianca go last night? She should have been a complete mess after being drugged that heavily, Stacey thought, her brow furrowing. She wasn't sure if Bianca had spent the night with someone. Suddenly, Stacey spotted a faint red mark on Bianca's neck. As an experienced woman, she knew exactly what that was. Just as she suspected. Now certain that Bianca had been with someone that night, a new plan began to take shape in Stacey's mind. A sly smile touched her lips. The second Bianca returned to her room, she rushed into the bathroom and tried to scrub the marks off her skin. Devastation washed over her at the undeniable proof that she had lost her virginity to a complete stranger. This was all Stacey and Haris's fault! After a long, scalding shower, Bianca finally forced herself to calm down. She needed a plan for the engagement party at the end of the month. She dialed a private detective a friend had once recommended, instructing him to discreetly tail Stacey and Haris, gather hard evidence of their affair, and dig up whatever they were planning for the party. With that handled, Bianca booted up her computer and drafted a new post on her social media. Across town at the Phoenix Alliance Group headquarters, Justin burst into Dave's office, practically buzzing with excitement. "Dave, I found her!" Dave paused his work, his attention instantly snapping to his assistant. Grinning, Justin dropped into the chair across the desk and slid a photo toward him. It showed a striking woman with a ponytail and bright, intelligent eyes. Dave had only caught a fleeting glimpse of her that morning, but her features were already burned into his memory. It was the woman he'd woken up next to! "I want everything on her background. Every single detail," Dave said, tapping the photo with a long finger, his expression unreadable. Justin cleared his throat and rattled off what he'd dug up. "Her name is Bianca Scott. Her father's been desperately hunting for investors because their family business has been tanking lately." Justin paused to ask, "Do you think she set you up to get funding for her dad? But then why would she run off afterward? Is she playing hard to get?" Ignoring the speculation, Dave just stared at the photo. "Continue." "She has a boyfriend named Haris Carter. He's a sales rep at some no-name company." Dave's brow furrowed. She had a boyfriend? Then why had she thrown herself at him last night? "There's one more thing," Justin added, breaking into Dave's thoughts. "What is it?" "Look." Justin slid his phone across the desk. "She just posted this bizarre ad." Dave frowned as he read Bianca's blunt caption, his expression rapidly darkening. "Looking for a boyfriend!" The post read: "Looking to rent a boyfriend for exactly one day. Generous compensation will be provided once the job is done. Details to be discussed during the interview. Requirements: Over 6 feet tall, handsome, fit, and easygoing. If interested, call me..." "What game is she playing now?" Dave muttered. Justin looked bewildered by his boss's sudden shift in mood. Noticing Dave's thunderous expression, Justin cautiously suggested, "Should I have someone bring her in?" Dave's fists clenched, the veins standing out sharply against his knuckles as his eyes burned with a dark, territorial anger. A second later, his voice dropped to absolute ice. "Take that ad down. No one else is allowed to see it!" Bianca let out a sudden sneeze. Rubbing her nose, she wondered who was talking about her behind her back. She checked her phone, frowning at the empty notification screen. It had been an hour since she posted the ad, yet she hadn't received a single call, text, or comment. For an account with thousands of followers, that was highly unusual. Was there a glitch? Were her requirements too demanding? Just as she was second-guessing herself, her phone buzzed in her hand, jolting her back to reality. An unknown number flashed on the screen. Bianca sat up straight and answered without hesitation. "Hello?" a deep, magnetic voice murmured through the speaker. "Hello, who is this?" Bianca asked politely. "I saw your ad for a boyfriend to rent. I believe I meet your criteria." The man's voice was a rich, resonant baritone—like the low notes of a cello. It sent an inexplicable shiver down Bianca's spine. Strangely, she also felt like she'd heard it somewhere before. Quickly brushing the odd feeling aside, she got straight to business. "Alright. When can we meet?" "You name the time and place," he replied smoothly. Bianca appreciated his straightforwardness. "Very well, let's meet at the Galaxy Café tomorrow at eight in the evening. I'll text you the details once I've booked a table." "Perfect. See you tomorrow." Bianca let out a breath of excitement. She hadn't expected things to go this smoothly. Meanwhile, Dave sat back in his spacious office, his expression unreadable. As he ended the call, a faint, dangerous smile played on his lips. He was very curious to see exactly what Bianca had planned. The next evening, Dave stepped into the café at exactly eight o'clock. Scanning the room, he spotted Bianca sitting at a corner table, glancing nervously toward the door. She wasn't exactly what he'd pictured. She wore a simple white shirt under a khaki windbreaker, her long hair cascading loosely over her shoulders. She looked quiet, unassuming, and entirely innocent. Dave checked his watch, impressed by her punctuality. He closed the distance to her table with long, deliberate strides. Sensing someone approaching, Bianca turned and met his gaze. Her breath hitched, completely stunned by his imposing build and striking face. If he hadn't stopped right at her table, she would have assumed an A-list movie star had just walked into the café! "Excuse me, are you Miss Bianca Scott?" The sudden, deeply familiar voice made her jump. Bianca stared blankly for a second before reality crashed in—this gorgeous man was her online applicant! "Uh, hello," Bianca stammered, still reeling from the fact that someone who looked like he belonged on a billboard had actually answered her bizarre ad. "Please, have a seat." As he slid into the chair opposite her, Bianca discreetly sized him up. He had sharp, refined features, a strong jawline, and an undeniably aloof air. His hair was casually swept back, only adding to his cool, untouchable demeanor. Even though he was dressed down in a worn brown leather jacket, a plain T-shirt, and jeans, he carried a commanding, almost regal presence that seemed to draw the eyes of everyone in the room.