The alcohol was still messing with her system. Chloe Summers felt dizzy, her vision blurry, and even the figure of the man standing by the bed seemed to split into two, maybe three.

“Looks like your line of work actually pays pretty well... I almost thought you were one of those spoiled rich kids,” Chloe slurred as she leaned back on the bed, eyeing the man in front of her who was absurdly handsome and built like a model.

Decked out in a designer suit and wearing limited-edition leather shoes—yeah, he just raised the bar for what she thought male escorts looked like.

The man’s voice was deep and smooth, full of magnetic charm. His eyelashes fluttered slightly as his narrowed eyes fixed on her. “What kind of work are you talking about?”

Nathaniel Langley had just wrapped up a long meeting and dragged his tired self back to his own presidential suite, only to find a drunk woman lying on his bed.

At first, he thought maybe some annoying client had sent her over as a “gift,” but the woman suddenly woke up and started rambling nonsense.

“How much do you usually charge for a night?” Chloe dug around in her purse, pulled out a check, scribbled down a number, and waved it at him. “Here, take this and head out…”

It was her eighteenth birthday tonight. She’d gotten carried away and had a few too many drinks. A couple of her girlfriends even joked about getting her a male escort as a birthday surprise—a ridiculous idea. But somehow, she woke up to find an actual guy in the room.

She wasn’t the kind of girl who’d just sleep around. Her first time should be with someone special, someone who truly mattered. Losing it in a nightclub? That was just tragic.

Noticing he still hadn’t moved, Chloe waved the check again, this time sounding a little more annoyed. “Don’t tell me I made you come for nothing. That should be enough for you to take a few days off.”

Nathaniel frowned deeply, staring at the girl on his bed. Her ink-black hair spilled over the white sheets, skin pale and flawless. She looked barely eighteen, with eyes as clear as a mountain stream—fresh and innocent, like some mischievous little fairy.

But how did she end up in his room?

Was this some kind of setup? Or was she here for a reason?

His eyes turned colder, a calculating chill creeping in as he stared her down like she was a potential threat.

Chloe was getting impatient. What, was he complaining about the amount? She lifted her head to argue, but froze when she caught the sharp, dangerous look in his eyes. Her stomach tightened. “Hey... don’t push your luck, okay?!”

Was this guy planning on forcing himself on her now? Her mind raced as she swallowed hard, unease crawling up her spine. This was bad. Real bad."I’m pushing my luck?" Nathaniel Langley arched a brow, a smirk flickering at the corner of his mouth. Did this woman seriously think he was trying to get lucky with her? Please. He hadn’t reached that level of desperation.

When Chloe Summers heard him admit it, she got even more flustered, blurting out, "Aren’t you some sort of... gigolo? I already paid you, what else do you want?"

Nathaniel’s face turned stormy in an instant. His eyes darkened, and his irritation flared. So that's what she thought he was?

Now she’d really caught his attention.

Chloe’s gut told her things were going south fast. She scrambled off the bed, trying to bolt out of the suite, but just as she got up, Nathaniel grabbed her and, with one fluid motion, tossed her back onto the bed like it was nothing. Smooth, controlled—yet completely overbearing.

Before she could even process what was happening, his tall frame loomed over her. “Well, since you’ve already paid, how about I give you your money’s worth?”

He dipped his head and kissed her—first her lips, then trailing down her neck and toward her collarbone.

Chloe’s mind blanked out, buzzing with panic. Her hands shot up to push him away, but he barely budged. Then his large hands found their mark, cupping the softness of her chest, fingers pressing with alarming certainty.

“S-Stop…” she stammered, trying to talk, but her mouth was quickly smothered by another kiss. His tongue pushed in, leaving her no room to breathe, let alone speak.

She twisted beneath him, but it was no use. He wasn’t backing off. Just as his movements grew more urgent, her hand grazed something near the headboard.

Without thinking twice, she grabbed it and—BANG!—smashed it over his head.

The shattering of porcelain echoed harshly in the room. Nathaniel’s eyes gleamed dangerously for a split second as he lifted his head, pulling back slightly.

Time seemed to freeze.

Then came the blood. It dripped from his hairline, one red drop after another, landing squarely on Chloe’s stunned, pale face.

“Ahhh—Help!” she shrieked, terror taking over as she stared up at his bleeding head.

By dawn's early light, in the dim hospital hallway, Chloe hugged herself tight, curled up sadly by the cold wall. In front of her stood two neat rows of bodyguards, all tall, solid as stone—not the type of guys to trifle with. Any one of them could probably lift her with one hand and fling her out the window.

They were posted there to protect the man inside the hospital room. The same man whose head she’d just bashed open a few hours earlier.

Chloe wanted the earth to open and swallow her alive right there and then.

Nathaniel Langley—yep, the Nathaniel Langley. Heir to the mighty Langley Group. The man who basically ran everything in A City. And she’d just mistaken him for—God—for that.

Great. Just great. She was so screwed. Like, royally screwed.