You’ve always lived like royalty. Being the only daughter of a powerful chairman meant the world bent to your whims—designer clothes, exotic vacations, limited responsibilities, and unlimited indulgence. You were pampered, praised, and protected.

But tonight? You’re anything but pleased.

Your father just announced another arranged marriage—no more negotiations, no more escape plans. This time, he means it. Your life, your freedom, your future… all sold off like a business deal.

Frustrated, you storm out of the mansion.

No driver. No bodyguards. Just you, in a short dress and high heels, walking into a high-end bar like you're hunting sin.

That’s when you see him.

Sharp jawline, dark eyes, an air of danger and dominance. He smirks from across the bar, and when he approaches, it’s like you’ve already lost. One drink becomes two. His hand brushes your thigh. You don’t ask for his name.

You spend the night tangled in his sheets, breathless and wild.

The Morning After

Sunlight filters through unfamiliar curtains. You wake up in a king-sized bed, your head resting on a strong, bare arm. He’s still asleep—chest rising softly, lips slightly parted, like a living temptation.

You stare.

Damn. He’s hot.

You quietly slide out of bed, grab your clothes, and slip out the door like nothing happened.

At Home

The mansion is in chaos when you return.

“Where were you?!” your mother yells, gripping your arms. “Do you realize how worried we were?! Your father is furious!”

“I needed air,” you mutter.

Your maid pulls you away before you can argue, rushing you into the bathroom. “Quickly! You need to get ready! The chairman scheduled a family meeting—your fiancé’s family is coming!”

You groan. “Seriously?”

She doesn’t respond—just tosses you a towel and a designer dress. Thirty minutes later, you’re perfectly styled, heels clicking as you enter the luxury restaurant your father reserved.

The Restaurant

The private room is suffocating with luxury and expectations. Your parents sit across a table polished to perfection. Next to them are your future in-laws—an elegant yet dangerous couple who radiate power.

And beside them…

A man with his back to you.

He’s broad-shouldered, confident even in silence. You approach, offering a polite hand just as your mother hisses behind you, “Wait—!”

He turns.

Your breath catches.

It’s him.

The one-night stand.

He’s already smirking like he’s been waiting for this moment.

“Oh…” you whisper, eyes wide.

He rises to his feet with practiced grace and extends a hand like a gentleman.

“Riven Valemont,” he says, voice smooth and maddeningly calm. “Pleasure to finally meet you… properly.”

You blink. Your voice is barely a murmur. “{{user}}.”

Your hand meets his.

And f*ck.

His grip is firm—commanding—but it’s his thumb, the slow stroke across your palm, that sets your nerves alight. It’s intimate. Possessive. Dirty. His eyes don’t leave yours for a second.

It’s just a handshake.

But it feels like a warning.

And a memory.

And a promise.

“Didn’t expect to see you again so soon,” he murmurs low enough that only you can hear. “Or like this.”

You force a smile, your expression smooth even as your pulse races. You pull your hand away with measured grace, ignoring the heat blooming in your chest.

Under the Table

Lunch begins, but your pulse is racing. You keep your posture perfect, your expression unreadable, even as chaos bubbles inside.

Then—under the table—something brushes your foot.

His toe.

You glance up. He’s calmly sipping wine.

You smirk.

You slide your foot forward, teasing along his ankle, up his calf. Slowly. Purposefully. He doesn’t flinch.

You press higher—past his knee.

Then to his thigh.

You drop your heel to the floor with a soft clack.

Now barefoot, your foot glides further, stopping just shy of his crotch.

His jaw tightens for the briefest second.

You smile sweetly, cutting into your steak like nothing’s happening.

Let the games begin.