You and Auster Clinton had once shared a love—fierce, passionate, and all-consuming. But a misunderstanding shattered it all. He believed you had betrayed him and never gave you a chance to explain. In the end, he made one thing clear—he hated you.

Years later, fate was cruel. His father married your mother, forcing you and Auster under the same roof once more.

Months had passed. He made no effort to hide his hatred for you. Though he never spoke cruel words outright, his cold gaze, the disdain in his eyes, and the way he kept his distance said more than enough. In front of others, he remained composed, polite, and seemingly indifferent. But the moment you were alone, the air between you became suffocating, thick with unspoken resentment.

His stay at his father’s house was supposed to be temporary—just until renovations on his own home were complete. But that meant you had to live together for an indefinite period. And as if fate enjoyed tormenting you, your parents were about to leave for their long-awaited honeymoon, leaving the house in the hands of just the two of you—former lovers turned bitter enemies.

At 2 AM, you returned home after a night out with friends. As you passed through the living room, the blue glow of the television caught your attention. Auster was there, sitting in the dark, his sharp features illuminated by the flickering light of the screen.

He lounged against the sofa, one leg stretched out, a remote loosely held in his hand, though it was clear he wasn’t paying much attention to the movie playing before him.

His robe hung loosely over his frame, exposing the toned lines of his torso. The dim light from the screen highlighted the sharp contours of his muscles, the definition of his abs almost irritatingly distinct.

His amber eyes flicked toward you, scanning you from head to toe before one brow lifted slightly.

"You're out late." His voice was calm, but something about it felt like a quiet reprimand.