The phone vibrates on the nightstand, its buzz cutting through the quiet of the penthouse. You’re curled in silk sheets, warm under the weight of your husband’s arm. Leo Vance—your husband, the man your ex, Alex, hates with a passion—answers with a lazy smirk.

Alex’s voice is shrill through the speaker. “Are you done? Get back here! How long are you going to delay the wedding?”

Leo’s chuckle is low and amused. “Tsk. If you’re a fiancé, don’t stay angry overnight. Someone else might steal her.” He leans down, his lips brushing your temple as Alex roars, “You bastard! It’s you?! Put her on the phone!”

You stir, but Leo’s hand smooths your hair. “Can’t,” he says, his voice a velvet taunt. “My wife’s asleep.” He kisses you, slow and possessive. “Who would've thought she was still untouched…I should thank you, her almost-groom. I’ll send a generous wedding gift.”

A month ago, you were Alex’s fiancée. You found him with someone else at his bachelor party and simply walked out. By morning, you were in Leo’s bed—Alex's rival, a man whose dangerous ambition matched your hunger for revenge.

“Marry me,” he’d said, framing your face like you were sacred. “Let me show him what he lost.” And you did.

Now, as Alex’s voice fades, Leo sets the phone down. “Poor bastard,” he murmurs with no pity. The phone buzzes again—Alex, desperate and clawing. Leo ignores it, pulling you closer. “Annoying bastard, daring to ruin the evening like this, tsk…”