The room was so dark it felt sealed off from the world.

On the hotel bed, the man moved like some beast that had been starving for way too long, tearing into his prey without a hint of restraint. He didn’t even stop to wonder if the woman beneath him might be inexperienced.

Vivian Hartley couldn’t take it. Her vision went black, and she passed out.

When she came to again, a shrill ringtone was drilling straight into her skull. She hung up on instinct. One glance at the screen—ten in the morning.

Right. Today was her engagement party.

And her so‑called fiancé? Silas Blackwell had been fooling around with her best friend behind her back for ages, stacking betrayal on betrayal. Last night he’d even had the nerve to call her and let her hear their little live show, like he was doing her a favor.

She’d been furious, humiliated, completely done—so she’d stormed off to a club, spotted a ridiculously handsome guy, and let herself spin out of control for one night.

Now, just trying to sit up sent a sharp jolt of pain through her body. She sucked in a breath between her teeth. He’d been way too rough—every bone in her felt loose.

She had to get to the engagement venue, though. If she didn’t show up, the Hartley Clan would skin her alive.

She pulled on her clothes in a rush and was about to bolt when a hand clamped around her wrist. The man on the bed had opened his eyes at some point.

"Leaving already?" His voice was low, rough, grazing over her skin like sandpaper.

Those eyes were sharp like a hawk’s, his features so perfectly carved it was almost unreal. And up close, his brow line… weirdly similar to Silas’s.

Vivian curled her lips in a lazy smirk, pretending she had never seen him before. She took out her wallet, fanned out all the cash inside, and set the bills on the nightstand.

"Thanks for last night, handsome. Shame I’ve got an engagement to catch. Don’t worry, I’ll book you again."

Being treated like some kind of paid escort should’ve pissed Quentin Blackwell off, but he only let out a cold, almost amused laugh, no real anger in it.

One phone call later, and his secretary, Zachary Allison, arrived with his clothes.

After a shower, Quentin slipped into his suit. His whole aura shifted—elegant, distant, a chill settling into his dark eyes that made him impossible to read.

Before heading out, he picked up the stack of bills she’d left and tucked it neatly into his bag.

"Mr. Blackwell, your nephew’s engagement with the Hartley family is starting soon. Should we head over?" Zachary asked.

"Yeah." Quentin’s voice was calm, flat, like nothing could shake him.

“Young Master Grayson and the others were still wondering why you bailed on them last night.”

Quentin Blackwell didn’t respond right away, looking like he was trying to piece something together.

He had just gotten back to Lumin City, and a few old friends he hadn’t seen in years dragged him to a club. Halfway through the night, some drunk little girl clung to him out of nowhere, and the two of them ended up losing control till dawn.

He’d always been the type with iron self‑control, and she wasn’t even particularly stunning. But last night had hit him like a drug—one taste and he was hooked.

There’d been this faint, unique scent on her, something that eased his nerves and lingered in his mind long after. For someone like Quentin, who barely slept on a normal day, last night had been the first real rest he’d gotten in ages.

…

Vivian Hartley flagged down a cab on the side of the road and told the driver the hotel name.

By the time she arrived at the engagement venue, it was nearly eleven. The hall was already buzzing with people.

She stepped into the dressing room, and before she could even take in the scene, a slap came flying straight toward her. Vivian caught the wrist mid‑air, her fingers tightening.

“I’m supposed to get engaged in a bit. You sure a swollen face will still take makeup?” Vivian’s voice was ice‑cold as she stared at the man who’d tried to hit her.

Her father, Thomas Hartley.

Missing the slap only made Thomas’s temper flare hotter. He snapped, his voice rising.

“You didn’t answer your phone—are you trying to rebel? You still remember to come back, at least! If anything goes wrong at today’s engagement, I swear I won’t let it slide!”

The most powerful family in Lumin City was the Blackwell Clan, with wealth stacked to the sky. And on top of that, the Blackwells had a son based in the capital—Quentin Blackwell—someone whose name rang across the world.

If not for the two families’ long‑standing ties, Vivian would never have had the chance to marry into the Blackwell Clan.

Rumor had it Quentin would attend the engagement today. Both families had been preparing for days, yet with the ceremony about to start, neither of the “newlyweds” had shown up.

Vivian looked straight at Thomas, her gaze frosty. “Did Silas show up?”

Silas Blackwell—her fiancé.

Thomas froze. The groom indeed hadn’t arrived. The Blackwell family had already sent people to look for him. Silas’s phone was turned off, and it was very possible he was trying to run from the marriage.

Vivian Hartley let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “So Silas doesn’t show up, and I’m just supposed to get engaged to myself?”

Thomas Hartley’s face went dark. “The Blackwell Clan is already looking for him. Go get changed and put on your makeup, now!”

The makeup artist rushed over to pull her away, but Vivian knew there was no dodging this engagement. She forced a smile and said, “I’ll handle it myself.”

Her mother had warned her since she was little that being too pretty only brought trouble. So from a young age, Vivian learned to hide behind plain, almost dull makeup.

If the makeup artist touched her face, she might notice what Vivian always hid.

Just then, a stir rose outside the door. “Hurry, hurry—Quentin Blackwell is here!”

At the sound of that name, Thomas immediately grabbed Vivian and headed out. “The Blackwell family’s younger uncle is here. You better behave.”

Of course Vivian knew who Quentin Blackwell was—the illegitimate son the Blackwell Clan cast out years ago.

But now? That same illegitimate son had clawed his way up to become a powerhouse, someone even the Blackwell Clan in Lumin City could barely measure up to.