Inside the presidential suite, under the dim, moody light—

A soft French-style bed, heavy with the scents of perfume and alcohol, stirred up every nerve in the man’s body. The woman beneath him obviously wasn’t staying still.

She was clearly drunk. Restless. Uncomfortable. And her body ached faintly all over.

“Ethan… you’re here…” she murmured, her voice soft, clinging to the wild tenderness in his touch.

“You’re… different,” his voice was low, almost gravelly like it came from the depths of his gut—deep enough to stir something primal.

Morning came.

Sunlight spilled gently through the curtain, casting a warm glow over the big bed and Summer Collins’ sleepy face. She stretched with a lazy yawn, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. Her bare arms rested outside the quilt. What remained of her clothes was shredded and tossed on the floor. Faint red marks scattered along her neck, a leftover from whatever storm passed last night. With her mind still in a fog, her blank stare said it all—she had no clue what really happened.

And then—bam! The door flew open with a violent crash.

Ethan Harris, her boyfriend, stormed in with a face full of fury. Behind him, her agent, Bryony Cluxton, wore a look of utter disbelief.

Summer’s heart dropped like a stone. For some reason, it felt like she’d just been caught cheating… in the worst possible way.

“Ethan? Why are you—what’s wrong?” she stammered, nervous and confused. Why was he looking at her like that? He’s always spoiled her to death.

And Bryony? Why was she barging in with him? None of it made any sense.

She racked her brain, trying to piece together last night. After wrapping up her latest drama, she’d celebrated with the cast—it got a little crazy. She got drunk. Real drunk. Then blank.

She only remembered Bryony helping her to the hotel and telling her Ethan was waiting there.

Later, Ethan came—to her room. They spent the whole night together. The kind of night that still had her legs shaking and her whole body sore. Just thinking about it made her blush. It had been her first time. She gave it to him.

At least... that’s what she thought.

But Ethan’s eyes now—they said something wasn’t right. Was she wrong?

“Summer, how could you do something like this to Ethan? You know how much he loves you,” Bryony’s overly dramatic voice cut in, laced with fake pity. But inside, she was probably gloating.

“I didn’t—Ethan, I swear—I never betrayed you! We were together last night, weren’t we?” Summer was panicking, tears welling up. Her memories from last night were a total blur. All she recalled was Bryony saying Ethan was waiting at the hotel. Beyond that—nothing.

Ethan laughed, cold as ice. “Seriously? I never even saw you last night. So tell me—who did you hook up with?”

That look of disgust on his face... Summer knew she’d never forget it.

“Let’s just... break up.”

The word “breakup” hit her like a ton of bricks. She loved Ethan—far more than she ever loved herself. But to him, breaking up seemed as easy as tossing trash.

“Ethan, wait…”

She wanted to jump out of bed, chase him, stop him. But as soon as she threw off the quilt and saw her bare body, she froze. All she could do was watch him walk away while her tears poured down.

And there stood Bryony Cluxton—the agent she'd worked with for three years—still standing there, a smug little smile playing on her lips.

“It was you, wasn’t it? You set me up!” Summer’s voice trembled. “Why?! I’ve never treated you badly!”