Serena Whitmore had spent three months saving up for the perfect gift for her soon-to-be fiancé.

And he had a surprise waiting for her, too.

He was fucking her best friend.

Serena stood frozen in the entry hall of the house they'd bought together, one hand still on the doorknob and the gift bag dangling from the other. Through the gap in the wall, she could see the living room. She could see the new gray couch they'd picked out last month, and Derek on that couch with Scarlett in his lap, her fingers tangled in his hair.

An hour ago, he'd picked up her call and said, rushed and a little hoarse, *"I'm tied up at work, babe. I'll call you later. Love you."*

She'd actually felt guilty for interrupting him.

"Mm. Stop." Scarlett's laugh was low and breathless, nothing like the voice that had cried on Serena's shoulder over her last breakup. "We'll do this right. Carry me to the master."

"The master?" Derek grinned against her neck. "That's Serena's room, baby."

"It's *our* room until she moves in." Scarlett kissed him again, slow and satisfied. "I want to see what the view's like from the bed you two picked out for your honeymoon. Humor me."

Serena's fingers tightened around the gift bag until the paper handles creaked.

Inside it was a watch. Titanium case, dark blue face, engraved on the back: *For the rest of our lives.* It had cost three months of her overtime, and she'd carried it on the train like it was glass.

"God, you're insane." Derek laughed and rubbed Scarlett's back. "You know she paid for half of this house, right? The down payment, the furniture. I just had to smile and say *soon, babe.*"

"Six years of soon." Scarlett tipped her head back and sighed. "She's actually planning a wedding. She dragged me to try on dresses last weekend, and I stood behind her in the mirror and fixed her veil. She cried and said I'd always be her maid of honor."

"And what did you say?"

"That she looked beautiful." Scarlett smirked. "I'm not stupid. I want a front-row seat when she finds out there's never going to be a wedding. Maybe you could propose to me right after."

"After her name goes on the loan, her salary goes in our joint account, and then we see." Derek shrugged. "Not like she'll ever check."

They kissed again, laughing against each other's mouths.

Serena didn't feel her feet move. One second she was in the hall, and the next she was standing in the doorway of the living room, her heels loud on the hardwood.

"Check what?"

Scarlett screamed and almost fell off Derek's lap. Derek shot to his feet so fast that the throw pillow hit the floor.

"Serena?" His face went white. "What are you doing here? You weren't supposed to be back until Saturday!"

"I came early." Her voice was calm. She had no idea where the calm was coming from. "I wanted to surprise you."

For a second, nobody said anything. Scarlett yanked her blouse straight and slid off the couch, and her eyes darted toward the door like she was measuring the distance.

"Serena. Okay. Listen." She held up both hands. "This isn't what it looks like."

"It looks like you asked him to carry you into my bedroom."

Scarlett flinched, then recovered. "We were going to tell you. It just... happened."

"Just happened?" Serena looked at Derek. "You've been planning how to spend my money together. How long has this really been going on? Tell me."

He opened his mouth. Closed it. His eyes went to Scarlett, then to the floor, and then, to Serena's disbelief, his jaw tightened.

"You know what? I can't believe you'd walk in here and catch me off guard like this." He pushed a hand through his hair and glared, like she was the one who'd done something wrong. "You don't call. You don't text. You just show up, spying on me in my own house. If you trusted me, we wouldn't even be having this conversation."

Serena stared at him.

Six years. She'd wired him rent for his startup. She'd cooked dinner at midnight after double shifts. She'd believed every *soon, babe*.

"Spying," she said slowly. "In the house I paid for."

"That's not the point!"

"It's exactly the point." Serena let out a bitter laugh. "God, I must've been blind. I actually spent three months saving up for a watch for you. Had it engraved, too. All because you once said wearing it would make you look like a successful, married man."

She glanced at Scarlett, then back at Derek.

"Turns out the only thing I couldn't afford was a pair of decent glasses. Otherwise, I would've seen what kind of people you two really are."

Derek's expression tightened. For a moment, he looked almost embarrassed.

Then he rolled his eyes. "I never asked you to buy me a watch, Serena."

"Serena, come on," Scarlett said, softer now, sweet and shaky, the voice she used when she wanted something. "You're upset. Let's sit down. Let's talk like adults."

"Adults don't ask for my bedroom."

"We made a mistake—"

"No." Serena's voice finally cracked on the word, and she hated that it did. "A mistake is when you forget a birthday. This was a plan."

Neither of them answered.

She looked at the man she'd thought she'd marry and the woman she'd thought she'd grow old with. They stood side by side in the house she'd helped buy, and neither one could meet her eyes.

*Don't cry,* she told herself. *Not in front of them.*

She turned around and walked out.

---

By midnight, the watch box was gone. She had left it in a trash can outside the bar after staring at it for ten full minutes.

By one in the morning, she had cried enough that there was nothing left but anger.

By two, she stepped out into the cool night air with a half-empty bottle in her hand and the city spinning at the edges.

She was drunk enough to be reckless and sober enough to hate every second of it.

“Derek Hayes,” she muttered, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. “May your hairline run away before I do.”

She took three unsteady steps into the quiet road.

A black car braked sharply several feet away.

The headlights washed over her.

A door opened.

Long legs stepped out first, followed by a man in a dark suit.

Even through the haze of alcohol and heartbreak, Serena noticed him.

It was honestly unfair.

The man looked like he had been carved out of cold moonlight and bad decisions. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Sharp jaw. Dark eyes. Expensive suit. The kind of face that made women forget common sense and remember every mistake they had ever wanted to make.

He looked down at her.

“Move.”

His voice was low, cold, and very unimpressed.

Serena blinked at him.

Another man hovered anxiously beside the car, glancing between Serena and the handsome stranger.

Serena figured the handsome one must be the driver. The other guy was probably waiting for his ride to end.

Then, with all the dignity she had left, she hugged the bottle to her chest and rolled sideways on the pavement.

“There,” she said. “Moved.”

For the first time, something shifted in his expression.

Not quite amusement.

But close.

He turned as if to leave.

Serena suddenly reached out and grabbed his pant leg.

The fabric was smooth. Very smooth.

Way too smooth for a driver, actually, but Serena was not in the mood to investigate textiles.

“Hey,” she said.

The man looked down again. “Let go.”

“You’re really handsome,” Serena told him solemnly.

His brows drew together.

“And I’m having the worst night of my life.”

“That doesn’t make it my problem.”

“No,” she agreed. “But it makes you convenient.”

A beat of silence passed.

Someone standing near the car looked like he wanted to disappear into the asphalt.

The man’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Do you know what you’re saying?”

Serena stared up at him.

The alcohol had made her bold, but the pain had made her clear.

Derek had taken six years from her. Scarlett had taken her trust. Tonight, Serena wanted one choice that belonged only to her.

No promises. No future. No lies.

Just one night where she wasn’t the fool left outside the bedroom door.

“I know,” she said. “I’m single. Very newly, very angrily single. And I am asking you to take me somewhere safe, let me sober up a little, and if I still want to kiss you…” Her eyes traveled over his face before she could stop them. “Then I’m going to kiss you.”

The man studied her for a long moment.

“Somewhere safe,” he repeated.

“Yes.”

“No regrets tomorrow?”

Serena thought of Derek. Scarlett. The watch in the trash.

Her fingers loosened from his pant leg.

“No regrets,” she said.

The man bent down and took the bottle from her hand. He handed it to the other man standing beside the car without looking away from Serena.

"You can go now," he said.

Then he turned back to her.

"Get in."

Serena blinked.

*Wait. Did I just steal someone else's ride?*

---

The hotel room was quiet, clean, and far too expensive for a driver.

That was Serena’s first thought when she stepped inside.

Her second thought was that the man still hadn’t touched her.

He poured her water. Told her to sit. Asked her name.

"Heartbreaker," she said after drinking half the glass.

He raised an eyebrow. "Heartbreaker?"

"Wait. That's someone who breaks hearts. I'm the one who got mine broken."

She considered this for a moment.

"Heartbrokener. That's me."

"That's not a word."

"Well, neither is my love life anymore."

“You can sleep,” he said. “I’ll have someone take you home in the morning.”

She looked at him standing by the window, his tie loosened, his profile cold and perfect beneath the city lights.

Her heart still hurt.

But it no longer felt like Derek owned the wound.

Serena stood, walked over, and stopped in front of him.

“I’m not crying over him anymore,” she said.

The man’s gaze lowered to hers. “Good for you.”

“If I kiss you, you’ll stop me if you don’t want it?”

“Yes.”

“And if you kiss me, I’ll stop you if I don’t want it.”

His eyes darkened.

“Fair.”

Serena rose onto her toes and kissed him first.

She caught the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. She'd expected something awkward, maybe even disappointing. Instead, the kiss left her breathless.

His tie slipped loose beneath her fingers.

"Still sure?" he asked.

She looked straight at him.

"More than ever."

He kissed her again, harder this time.

Serena wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her off her feet. She laughed against his mouth, surprised by how easily he carried her toward the bed.

---

By morning, sunlight cut through the curtains and landed across Serena’s face.

She woke with a dry mouth, sore limbs, and the terrifying realization that she was not in her own bed.

For three seconds, she stared at the ceiling.

Then memory returned in pieces.

Bar. Road. Handsome stranger.

Hotel. Kissing.

More than kissing...

Serena turned her head slowly.

The man was asleep beside her.

Good Lord.

He was even better looking in daylight.

His lashes were dark against his skin, his features relaxed but still somehow arrogant, as if even unconscious he expected the world to behave. One arm lay across the sheets, strong and bare, and Serena’s face heated before she looked away.

What kind of drivers looked like this now?

Westbridge was getting competitive.

She sat up carefully, wincing.

Her clothes had been folded neatly on a chair. Her phone and bag were on the table. Nothing was missing. There was even a glass of water beside the bed.

For reasons she did not want to examine, that made her chest feel strange.

Serena dressed quickly and quietly.

At the door, she stopped.

She couldn’t just leave like a thief.

But she also absolutely could not stay and have a morning-after conversation with a stranger whose name she didn’t even know.

After a moment, she opened her wallet and took out several hundred-dollar bills. It was more than she could comfortably spare, but less than the room probably cost. She placed the money on the nightstand, hesitated, then added a note from the hotel pad.

Thank you.

For the room. And for not being terrible.

—S

She stared at the note.

Then she grabbed it back, crumpled it, and threw it into her bag.

Too much.

She left only the cash.

Before she slipped out, she looked at him one last time.

“No regrets,” she whispered.

Then she closed the door behind her.

---

Serena had barely stepped out of the hotel when her phone started buzzing.

Her college friends' group chat was exploding.

She glanced at the screen.

*Serena, what happened last night?*

Another message appeared.

*Derek says he knows everything.*

Serena stopped walking.

Everything?

Her gaze flicked back toward the hotel she'd just left.

There was no way.

Nobody knew about last night.

Then a third message appeared.

*Serena, how could you do this to Derek?*

Her stomach dropped.