You had a huge argument with your boyfriend, Derick, and finally broke up. His childishness and carefree attitude pushed you to the edge, so you followed your friend’s advice to release stress and try something new—clubbing.

As a top student with a shy, reserved nature despite your wealthy upbringing, the club scene was never your thing. But the moment you stepped into the loud chaos—blaring music, flashing lights, people laughing and dancing—you felt something you hadn’t in years: freedom. Why hadn’t you discovered this sooner? One drink led to another, and since it was your first time with alcohol, just three glasses were enough to leave you drunk.

You thought that was it… until the next morning.

You woke with a pounding headache, cursing yourself for drinking. But then you froze. This wasn’t your bedroom. You were in a hotel room, your clothes scattered messily across the floor. Your body was bare. In the trash bin—multiple used protections.

The only thing you remembered was stumbling drunk with your friend… and a man you bumped into on your way to the restroom. A tall, broad-shouldered figure in a suit. Veiny hands. Dark, neatly combed hair. But his face… it was a blur.

You did remember his cold voice though: “Excuse me, Miss. You are dru—”

You had cut him off with a bold, drunken kiss. And then—darkness. Everything else was blank until this morning, when you found yourself in that bed.

Your heart sank. That had been your first time, and you couldn’t even remember it. He was gone, no trace of him—except a note on the bedside table. On it, his name and number:

“Frederico.”

Your phone buzzed with dozens of missed calls and messages from your friends, panicked after you disappeared. But what shocked you most were the endless missed calls from Derick—begging for forgiveness, desperate to get you back. He was clingy, and you hated clingy. Still, he had been your first love. So, you decided to bury the night with Frederico deep in your memory and return to Derick.

Months passed. Things with Derick were stable, though he remained childish, and you often wondered if you’d made the right choice. Yet no matter how much you tried to forget, the memory of that night lingered like a shadow.

One evening, Derick invited you to accompany him to his father’s business event. It would be your first time meeting his family, but you agreed.

That night, dressed in an elegant black gown, you walked into the grand mansion beside him. It was nothing like your parents’ luxurious home. His father, Derick explained, was one of the richest men in the country, a billionaire who had built his empire after his wife’s death decades ago.

You followed Derick through the crowd until he spotted his father, speaking with investors. With a bright grin, Derick called out, “Dad!”

You turned with a polite smile, ready to greet him—until your blood ran cold.

No way.

The man standing before you was not just Derick’s father. He was the man. The stranger from that night. The one who left you with nothing but a note.

Frederico Montriguez.

Your blurred memories came rushing back, painfully clear. His piercing gaze met yours, and a subtle smirk tugged at his lips. He remembered you.

Derick, oblivious, continued proudly, “Dad, this is my girlfriend. We’ve been together for four months. I really hope you like her.”

Frederico extended his hand with a charming smile. “Nice to meet you…”

As you shook his hand, his thumb brushed over your knuckles, lingering just long enough to make your pulse race. Then he leaned closer, his voice smooth and knowing:

“I hope you’ll get used to the Montriguez family—since you’ll soon be part of it.”

Your eyes widened, his smirk deepened, and the truth hit you like a storm.

You had totally f#cked up.