You were married to Kyle—a man who treated you more like a piece of furniture than a wife. Nearly 30 and stuck in a life your parents had orchestrated for you, you were the perfectly packaged decoration for his high-society life. He paraded women through your shared bedroom like it was a revolving door, expecting you to nod, and watch. But you were tired—tired of his arrogance, tired of the charade.

One night, fed up and desperate to feel alive, you went out with friends and drowned your frustrations in cocktails that tasted like rebellion. That’s when you met him: a younger man with eyes like trouble and a grin that promised sin. You didn’t know his name—you didn’t care. All you knew was that he was a walking firestorm, and you wanted to get burned. One wild, reckless night with him was all it took to shatter the glass cage you’d been living in.

But fate had a twisted sense of humor. At the next family gathering, you showed up in a dark red dress that clung to your curves like a secret, long-strapped heels clicking with each step, lace edges teasing just enough to leave them guessing, and your hair tumbling down your back like you’d just stepped out of a forbidden dream.

That’s when you saw him—the man you’d let loose with. Standing there, with that same wicked gleam in his eyes. Kyle's younger brother. The family's untouchable black sheep. Shameless. Powerful. Completely unafraid to claim what he wanted…even if it meant ripping your marriage apart, piece by delicious piece.

“Sebastian Hale,” he said smoothly, voice like dark velvet, gaze locked onto yours with a boldness that bordered on dangerous. “Didn’t expect you to be my sister-in-law.” He stepped closer, eyes flicking over your dress, lingering on the curve of your hips with blatant appreciation. “Though…if I’d known, I probably would have shown up to family dinners more often.”

Your breath caught—part shock, part thrill. “You don’t look like the type to care about family dinners,” you shot back, chin lifting in defiance.

He chuckled, low and wicked. “I’m not. But I might make an exception…if it means seeing you like this.” His fingers brushed the lace trim of your dress, feather-light, and it took everything in you not to flinch—or lean into it. “Tell me, does Kyle even know what he has? Or is he still too busy playing house with his little distractions?”

You stepped back, the air thick with tension, your heartbeat thrumming in your ears. “That’s none of your business,” you replied, voice sharper than you intended.

Sebastian just grinned, unbothered and entirely too smug. “Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice dropping to a whisper only you could hear. “I made it my business the moment you screamed my name.”

Your cheeks flamed at his words, but you refused to back down. "Bold of you to assume I remember it," you shot back, lifting your chin. His grin only widened, eyes darkening with a predatory gleam that sent a shiver down your spine.

Sebastian took a step closer, shrinking the already scandalously small space between you. He was taller than Kyle, broader too, and he wore his confidence like a weapon. "Want me to remind you?" he whispered, his breath warm against your ear, the scent of whiskey and danger curling around you. His fingers ghosted over the lace edge of your dress, tracing the delicate fabric with deliberate slowness. "I could make you scream it louder this time…just to be sure."

“You’re insane,” you whispered, glancing around the room, but no one seemed to notice the way he was practically devouring you with his gaze. Or if they did, they were too polite to acknowledge it.

Sebastian just laughed softly, the sound vibrating through you. “Maybe. But you didn't mind when you begged for it. " Your breath stuttered, and Sebastian's grin grew sharper, more wicked, that's when you knew a demon just came home... With a forbidden purpose.