1

In the dead of night, a shadow drifted silently down the dimly lit hallway. Ariana, dressed in formal evening attire, moved unsteadily, her head heavy and foggy.

Heat… So much heat…

It spread through her body like a wildfire, threatening to consume her from the inside out. Something was wrong—terribly wrong.

Flashes of the past hour played in her mind.

After attending her grandfather’s grand 70th birthday celebration, her stepmother, Cynthia, had stopped her with a saccharine voice.

“Ariana, there’s something I need to discuss with you.”

Ariana’s response was cold, her eyes filled with disdain. “There’s nothing for us to talk about. The moment you drove my mother to her death, we ceased to have anything but hatred between us.”

Cynthia’s expression stiffened, but she masked her irritation with a pitiful sigh. “Your father is in trouble, and he needs your help.”

Ariana scoffed, a sense of dread creeping into her gut. “And what exactly can I do?”

Cynthia’s voice softened, almost pleading. “Ariana, your father offended a powerful man. The only way out is for you to ask your grandfather for help. No matter what’s happened, you’re still a member of the Falter family. He won’t refuse you.”

Ariana found it laughable.

Ask her grandfather?

The same grandfather who had severed all ties with her father years ago?

Who had watched in disgust as Cynthia seduced her father while her mother was pregnant, forcing her into a humiliating divorce?

Who had never forgiven her father for letting her mother walk out into a storm, only to die in a tragic accident?

And now, Cynthia had the audacity to ask for help?

Ariana’s lips curled into a cold smirk. “I wouldn’t beg him for anything. My father is nothing but a selfish coward, and whatever happens to him—he deserves it.”

With that, she turned to leave.

But just as she did, a sharp voice cut through the air.

“Ariana, if you refuse to help, don’t blame me for what happens next.”

Before Ariana could react, an unusual fragrance filled the air. A sweet, cloying scent.

Instinctively, she held her breath. But it was too late—she had already inhaled too much.

Her limbs grew weak, her vision blurred.

Damn it.

She barely registered the figure grabbing her arm, attempting to drag her away.

Summoning the last of her strength, Ariana kicked her attacker hard in the stomach and broke free.

She stumbled forward, panic flooding her veins as she forced herself to keep moving.

She had always known Cynthia was ruthless, but she had underestimated just how far she would go.

As the world around her began to spin, Ariana pressed herself against the hallway wall, trying to stay upright.

Footsteps. Voices.

“Hurry up and find her! If she escapes, we’re finished!”

Cynthia.

Ariana’s breath hitched.

Desperation clawed at her as she reached for the nearest door, her fingers trembling.

Creak.

To her surprise, it wasn’t locked.

With no other choice, she slipped inside and locked it behind her.

The room was pitch-black.

She had no idea where she was.

Her foot caught on something, and before she could steady herself, she tumbled forward.

“Ah—”

She landed on something soft.

No, someone.

A cool, firm surface met her burning cheek, sending a wave of relief through her feverish body.

It felt so good.

Her hands moved instinctively, touching the solid warmth beneath her.

It was a man.

Her rational mind screamed at her to move away, but the overwhelming heat consuming her body made her crave the cold touch.

Unconsciously, she clung to him, her arms and legs wrapping around him as if he were the only thing anchoring her.

On the bed, Dwayne stirred.

The alcohol in his system had kept him in a deep slumber, but the sudden weight pressing against him made his brows furrow.

A soft, delicate body curled against his, rubbing against him in a way that sent a jolt of awareness through his fogged mind.

His voice was hoarse, laced with irritation. “Get off.”

Ariana whimpered, burying her face against his chest, her fingers clutching at him desperately.

Dwayne attempted to push her away, but his intoxicated body lacked its usual strength.

She pressed closer.

Then, a soft, feather-light kiss landed against his throat.

His entire body tensed.

A slow, dangerous fire flickered to life within him.

His eyes snapped open, dark and predatory in the shadows.

In the darkness, he looked like a wolf that had just been provoked, his sharp gaze glowing with an unspoken warning.

With a sudden movement, he flipped them over, pinning the girl beneath him.

His voice was low, dangerous.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”