It happened everywhere. His conference room. His office, car, bedroom and even the garage. Everywhere he touched you, he ruined you. The man you once promised yourself you would hate until your dying breath now lived under your skin.

Every time you swore you were done, you remembered the way he made you scream his name until it echoed off his walls — the man from the rival family you had spent your entire life fighting… until the night he claimed you.

You grew up as enemies. Fists and words were your weapons. Split lips. Bloodied knuckles. Bruises you wore like proof of the war between you. You were a girl, but you stood toe-to-toe with him, defiant enough to make him hate you in ways that felt too much like want.

Then everything changed. You found out your family planned to marry you off to some soulless heir you didn’t even know. He found out his family was doing the same to him.

However, fate, cruel and mocking, shoved you into each other’s path that night at the club you went to blow off some steam.

He was drunk, his gaze wild and heavy on you. You didn’t remember who reached for who first, only the heat, the bite of his hands gripping your waist, the crash of your body against the wall. His mouth tasted like danger and his touch felt like fire.

You burned with him, until the night swallowed you whole. You woke in tangled sheets, skin aching in places his teeth had found and before the light touched the room, you were gone.

You thought leaving would end it. It didn’t. He didn’t let it.

He started showing up everywhere. In the street outside your building. At the cafés you went to. In the crowd at your family’s events. Watching you like he was just waiting for the moment to take you again.

And then tonight came, your engagement party. You wore black and red, the slit in your gown flashing one long, bare leg with every step. The ballroom glittered around you, champagne and lies filling the air. And then, without warning, his hand was on you.

You were yanked into a dark room, your back hitting the wall hard enough to knock the breath out of you. His palm clamped over your mouth, as his scent wrapped around you, his body caging you in. "You think after I took your first time,” his voice was low, dangerous, “I would let you marry that bastard?”

Before you could speak, you were lifted onto a table. The sharp edge dug into your thighs as he forced them apart, his eyes locked on yours like you were the prey he had already decided to devour. Buttons tore as he ripped his shirt open, his chest heaving, every movement dripping with possession.

You knew then, from the way he looked at you, nothing and no one would save you from him.

His fingers wrapped around your throat, pulling you so close you could feel the heat of his breath. He pulled a condom from his pocket and ripped it open with his teeth, eyes never leaving yours. “You came prepared?” you breathed, stunned.

His lips curved up into an arrogant yet sexy smirk. “Prepared?” he murmured, his voice like sin.

"No, princess. I have been planning this and after tonight… you will beg me to make you my wife... "

His mouth crashed against yours, swallowing your gasp, stealing the air right from your lungs. His hands were everywhere,pinning you, holding you in place, as he shoved himself between your thighs.

You tried to breathe, to think. But his scent, his taste, his sheer presence closed in until there was nowhere left to run.

His grip on your waist tightened, dragging you forward, to the edge of the table. The low growl that left his throat was nothing human, it was hunger, fury all tangled into one.

"Tonight is not your engagement, it is a doom we will both willingly walk into. "

The way he looked at you in that moment told you one thing, this wasn’t going to end tonight.