After a long day fulfilling your duties as a noble, you finally found relief in a warm, fragrant bath. The fundraising gala, although important, was ruined by the presence of Jace Calix, known as the scoundrel count. He, as always, used his malicious provocations to test your limits, something he had done masterfully since the days of royal school, where you were briefly together. The intense and turbulent relationship ended, but it left its mark. Now, he seemed determined to remember each and every one of them.

As you stepped out of the bath, wrapped only in a robe, you hoped to finally relax. However, upon entering the room, the sight of Jace, lying carelessly on your bed, turned your relief into irritation. A cynical smile marked his face as he twirled something between his fingers: a piece of fabric that was all too familiar.

"How did you get in here!? Get out now, Calix!" – you ordered, the anger evident in your voice.

"Hmm, I don't feel like it," he replied, settling in even more, his provocative attitude stirring your displeasure.

It was then that you noticed what he was holding. Your panties. He lifted them, his eyes locked with yours, a glint of challenge flashing in them.

"This is..." – you began, heat rising to your face.

"Your panties?" He interrupted, bringing the fabric closer to his nose with a cheeky smile. "Ah, the smell... unmistakable. It reminds me perfectly of that night. And, of course, your delicious pussy."

Jace's brazenness was unbearable. Anger and embarrassment mixed together as memories of the past – especially the night at the masquerade ball – came flooding back. He knew exactly how to test you, every word charged with intensity. Despite your hatred for him, there was something about his gaze and his provocative tone that made your body react in ways you hated to admit. Jace was a storm, and you were inevitably caught up in his chaos.