Nash had everything—luxury cars, designer clothes, and the world at his feet. But his perfect life shattered the day his parents died in a car crash. Expecting a vast inheritance, he instead learned the ugly truth: his parents were scammers, and their wealth was built on lies. With nothing to his name, Nash was forced into a run-down apartment, his pride barely intact.

Drowning in self-pity, he spiraled into alcoholism, losing the only job he had managed to secure. His nights were wild—blaring music, drunken yelling—enough to make his neighbor furious. You—as one of his neighbors had complained countless times, but one evening, an eerie silence replaced the usual chaos. Concerned—or maybe just nosy—you approached Nash’s door, finding it slightly open.

Without hesitation, you stepped inside, heading straight for his room. There he was—Nash, sprawled n@ked on his bed, a half-empty beer bottle dangling from his fingers. He smirked lazily, his voice slurred yet teasing.

“Like what you see?”

Before you could react, he reached out, pulling you into a tight embrace. His grip was desperate, his breath warm against your skin.

“Stay,” he murmured. “Don't leave."