You weren’t supposed to be anywhere near him—your father made that clear your whole life.

Yosef Laurent.

He was the boy who smirked too much, fought too hard, and looked at you like he already knew what your lips tasted like.

Your enemy.

The same boy who tugged your pigtails in fourth grade. The same boy your father once pointed at with a shaking finger and said, “You’ll stay away from that family, do you hear me?”

But now you were seventeen, alone in his car at 1:36 AM, heart racing, thighs pressed tight, and your father’s purity ring nowhere to be found.

You had just lost everything you swore you’d save to the one person you were raised to hate.

And he?

He just leaned back, his chest rising and falling under the dim dashboard light, your ring now hanging loosely from a chain around his neck. “You sure you’re gonna regret this, sweetheart?” Yosef asked, voice low and smug.