Emperor Hotel.

Half-asleep, Chloe Bennett felt like her head was splitting in two. Worse yet, something heavy was pressing down on her, making it hard to breathe.

Instinctively, she reached out to push it away—and her hand landed on something gross, sticky, and sweaty. The moment her fingers touched it, her whole body jolted awake. Opening her eyes, she saw the greasy face of a man practically lying on top of her.

She froze. Wasn’t she just at the bar with Ethan Collins? How the hell did she end up in a luxury suite, with this sleazy creep pinning her down?

What the hell was going on?

The man blinked in surprise at her sudden wake-up, then his face twisted with rage. He slapped her hard across the cheek. "You little tramp! Dare to shove me? Tired of livin’, huh?" He pulled his hand back to hit her again.

The impact made stars dance in Chloe’s vision. Her thoughts went blank in the whirl of pain.

Seeing she was dazed, the man sneered. "That’s more like it. Out here selling yourself and still acting all innocent—who you trying to fool?" He leaned in closer, his breath disgusting, and tried to grope her.

She froze, paralyzed. "Selling...?" The word echoed in her ears. No way. Did Ethan sell her out? The very thought chilled her to the bone. She wanted to reject the idea, but everything around her screamed otherwise.

No wonder Ethan had been so off all evening when he asked her out for drinks. So he really had planned this?

But if he wanted to break things off that badly, there were about a hundred other ways. Chloe wasn’t the type to cling so tightly someone needed this kind of crap.

Tears welled up in her eyes.

The man misread her silence and grinned even wider. His hand crept toward her clothes.

Chloe snapped out of it, panic washing over her. She started struggling, and when the man got more aggressive, eyes gleaming with sick excitement, she only fought harder.

Desperate, Chloe’s gaze landed on a vase on the nightstand. Without thinking, she grabbed it and smashed it down on his head.

Crack!

The sound was bone-chilling. The man let out a howl, clutching the back of his head, rolling off her in pain.

Chloe didn't even stop to look. Barefoot and wearing whatever was left intact, she jumped from the bed and bolted for the door.

The Emperor Hotel was top-tier—especially this floor, reserved for VIP clientele. Chloe knew the odds of bumping into someone were low. The few suites here had tightly shut doors.

Behind her, the creep had regained himself and was chasing her, fast.

Panic setting in, Chloe made a beeline for the only door she saw and threw herself at it.

The sleazeball saw which door she aimed for and instantly went pale. He froze on the spot and, in the next second, turned tail and ran.

Sweat drenched his face as he muttered, "She must have a death wish. Has no idea who stays in that room, huh?"

The door wasn’t locked. Chloe slammed into it; the door swung open, hit something solid, and a low grunt rose from the shadows inside.

There’s someone behind the door.

A guy.

Chloe stopped dead in her tracks.

"Who the hell?!" a furious voice snapped from inside. The words were full of menace, enough to chill blood. A tall man staggered into view, shirt half-undone, one hand on the back of his head, his expression dark as thunder.

His eyes blazed like a storm ready to erupt.Chloe Bennett stared in shock. What the hell was this man doing hiding behind the door? She was just about to say sorry—

Suddenly, a young woman stepped out from behind him, her clothes slipped down to her waist, one hand pressing the back of her head, lips smeared with blood, and her makeup completely smudged. She looked like a mess. The second she walked out, her massive E-cup chest nearly blinded Chloe.

Everything clicked in her mind. These two were clearly caught up in a steamy moment behind the door when she barged in and messed up their little rendezvous.

The woman shot Chloe a look and immediately understood what had happened. Her heavy makeup twisted into a furious glare as she raised her hand, ready to slap Chloe.

Right then, a rush of footsteps thundered through the hallway, and over a dozen men in black suits and sunglasses came jogging over, quickly surrounding the man who was still holding his head.

A sharp-faced middle-aged woman stepped forward anxiously. “Sir, are you alright?”

Before Blake Montgomery could respond, the young woman exploded, “Alice, throw this bitch out!” She was fuming—so close to getting into Blake’s bed, only to be interrupted at the worst moment.

Alice Morton didn’t even look her way. Her eyes were on Blake, waiting silently for his word. Blake’s gaze, dark and unreadable, locked onto Chloe. After a tense beat, he gritted out coldly, “Throw her out.”

A smug grin spread across the young woman’s face. She’s won. Chloe had messed with the wrong person and was about to pay for it.

Panic hit Chloe like a punch to the gut. This guy had a damn explosive temper—he didn’t even give her a second to explain before calling for her to be tossed out.

But in the next second, Alice simply waved her hand. A few bodyguards stepped forward, grabbed the young woman without hesitation, hoisted her up, and carried her straight out.

Alice gave the girl a quick glance as she was being hauled off, sighed softly and mumbled, almost to herself, “She really doesn’t learn… Her face’s wrecked now—does she think he’d still want her like that?”

The woman didn’t dare make a sound while being dragged away, just shot Chloe a vicious look full of hate as she passed by.

Alice waited until the issue was dealt with, then respectfully shut the door.

Chloe’s heart finally started to steady. She took a breath and opened her mouth to explain—but then Blake began walking toward her.

As he approached, she finally saw him clearly. No joke, this man was unfairly handsome—tall, slender, and with a face sculpted by the gods. And those eyes—dark, deep, and insanely captivating. Just one glance could suck you right in.

But the cold air rolling off his body was terrifying. His presence alone made it impossible to breathe. Chloe couldn’t help but step back a little, overwhelmed.

He kept moving forward, forcing her step by step into a corner. Only when her back hit the wall did he come to a stop, staring her down from head to toe. His icy voice cut through the air: “You the one who kicked that door open?”

Chloe forced a nervous smile, trying to explain, “Yeah, that was me, but I swear I didn’t mean to, it’s because—”

She froze mid-sentence. Something cold was suddenly pressed under her chin. Chloe glanced down—and her blood ran cold.

A gun. He was pointing a gun at her.

Her legs almost gave out right there.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she stammered, her voice shaking like a leaf.

Blake’s eyes were sharp enough to pierce skin. He glared at her like she’d signed her own death warrant. “You crashed into me,” he said, voice like ice, “so I’ll take your life as payment.” No emotion. No room for discussion. Just pure, chilling dominance.