Sunlight penetrated through the window, cascading over my face, dragging me back to my senses as I woke up to a room that didn't belong to me.

My head throbbed, a reminder of too much tequila and a heartbreak that hadn't quite died. 

I reached out, expecting to feel Zayne’s warm skin, but the sheets beside me were cold. Empty.

“Huh..? Zayne?”

A note sat on the nightstand next to a tray of gourmet breakfast. ‘Had to leave. Sorry.’

Professional. Cold. Just like the man himself. 

I laughed bitterly, the sound echoing in the massive suite. 

What did I expect? A confession of love? It was a one-night stand, a strategic move in his war against Edric.

He must have done this to claim his enemy’s woman and I, out of heartache. 

Smiling to myself feebly, I pushed my wet hair behind and since I was starving, I ate everything, grabbed my things, called a cab and left his place.

Rose and I were sharing an apartment after disowning my family — yes, I disowned them.

I went home, Rose was absent. Must be enjoying her night too.

Smirking coldly, I decided to rest for the time being before the top-class gathering where I had to solidify my steps.

By 8:00 PM, I was standing in front of the mirror, Rose watching me with a mix of awe and concern.

"You look like you are going to a funeral, Kristine," She smirked, wearing her shoes.

"I am," I smirked back, applying a coat of blood-red lipstick. "Edric’s."

Feeling bold tonight, I had chosen a dress that was practically a weapon, floor-length black lace, backless, with a slit that climbed dangerously high.

All eyes must be latched on me. I was the CEO of Scents’n’Secrets, topnotch fragrances after all. 

I was a woman of perfume and power. I wouldn't let them see me bleed.

Tonight, people would consider my attention a privilege.

“My, my, aren’t you becoming bolder?” Rose teased, scanning me from top to bottom.

“One should be when they have to stand alone,” I replied derisively, picking my purse, holding my head high and leaving for the party.

The second I entered, I could feel the eyes following me, studying me thoroughly, but I had decided to make it MY year. 

I won’t lose to them. 

But, then, I felt it. 

Him.

The air behind me shifted, growing heavy, powerful.

 A hand, large and familiar, grazed at my back, tracing a line on my spine. The heat of it burned through my lace dress, sending a traitorous shiver straight to my core.

"Avoiding me already, Sweetheart?" Zayne’s low, tempting tone reached my ears.

 "I am not avoiding you, Mr. Nightwood,” I didn't turn around. I couldn't, “I am just... sober now."

"Sober is boring," he murmured, his hand tightening slightly on my waist, pulling me back until my heels were locked between his. 

"And you weren't boring last night. You were a masterpiece of screams."

I could feel myself getting excited by the thought of him pinning my hands, of making me scream his name, of turning me into a senseless mess— 

What the fuck am I thinking!?

"Stop," Hoping to impede the attraction, I shifted to face him with my steps retreating, "It was one night. You left a note, remember?"

"I left breakfast too," he corrected, closing our distance with his gaze darkening, "And a warning, remember?"

“By the way, what a masterpiece you have created,” He commented, pointing at Edric’s bandaged head.

I rolled my eyes, folding my arms at my chest, indulging in the sight where he was making up excuses to hide his deed.

“I think I should go now,” 

Before I could snap back, the sound of a fork hitting a crystal glass rang out. The room went silent.

“Everyone, on this auspicious day, I have an important announcement to make,”

Oh? The bastard even had to say something?

On the raised platform, Edric stood. He looked pathetic with the bandage wrapped around his head, but he was smiling. 

He looked at the crowd, his eyes landed on me, distressing me. For a second, he faltered. Then, his gaze shifted to the woman beside him.

Amie.

He shifted to one knee, dropping my impishness.

“Amie, you are everything I could possibly desire, my love, my happiness, and will you do me the honor of showing you how much I love you for the rest of our lives?”

My chest constricted badly, the future we were supposed to create was purloined from me, brimming tears in my eyes.

The pain I was trying to hide through makeup, through lust, through any possible means burst when he offered Amie a ring.

“Will you marry me?”

“Oh my God, Edric! Yes! Yes!” 

I stood miserably. Lips quivering, soul being torn apart, strength draining.

For how long was he taking advantage of me? For how long was this going on behind my back?

How could he do this to me?

My steps stumbled, colliding with Zayne's who was behind me all this time, observing my agonizing reaction with amusement.

He didn't offer a shoulder to cry on. 

Instead, he gripped my shoulders firmly, forcing me to stand straight. He leaned down, his eyes boring into mine, cold and calculating.

"Don't you dare cry," he hissed, "Look at them. They think they won. Are you going to let them keep thinking that?"

"He's marrying her, Mr. Nightwood," My broken tone came, "He is giving her the life he promised me."

"Then take it back, Kristine" Zayne said, a wicked smirk playing on his lips, pressing it against my ear.

"Or better yet, take everything he owns. Including his dignity."

I looked at Edric, who was now kissing Amie, back to the heartless businessman, Zayne Nightwood — the man who hated Edric more than anyone. 

Growling, I hit his chest, making him chuckle. 

Indulging in my utter defeat, it infuriated me as I walked away with tears glistening in my eyes, cursing both of them. 

I was back at the apartment, the black dress shredded on the floor. I wasn't crying anymore. I was pacing, my eyes wild.

"Kristine, stop," Rose pleaded, trying to grab my hands, “We can just leave. Move away. Start over."

"No," I snapped, “I won’t run away. Not this time,” 

“I wish they die, I wish the worst would happen to them. I wish they never live happily after what they did to me.” I growled, throwing the nearby vase in the air, losing my composure and strength before falling on the ground.

“Hold yourself, Kristine. You can’t lose. You have a child to think about,” 

“They…” 

Sniffling, I pulled away a little, wiping my teary eyes roughly, smearing the immaculate eye look, curling my hands in a fist.

“They will pay, Rose. Like hell they will get their happy ending after destroying mine.”

Holding my hands to help me calm down, she asked softly, “But, what are you going to do?”

Shifting back, resting my back against the couch, I hugged my knees close to my chest as a fierce fire of revenge bloomed in my empty chest.

This won’t end easily, I won’t let it and for that, I would stoop to any level. 

Placing my hand over my stomach, no longer in my right state of mind, breaking the boundaries of ethics, I enunciated darkly.

“I think I know exactly what to do, Rose. Edric will pay hell for betraying me.”  

"Kristine Iglesias is pregnant with Zayne Nightwood's child!

Yes! She was in love with his rival, Edric Carton, but their breakup led to a twisted one night stand where she is now pregnant with Mr. Nightwood's baby.

Is it for revenge or a beginning of a new bond that is yet to find out. We are waiting to hear further from Miss Kristine and Mr. Nightwood.

Are they going to keep the child? Stay tuned with us to find more!"

The headline glared at me from every digital billboard in the city. Two weeks. That was all it took to drop the bomb of the scandal.

We were the new hot topic, a vicious headline plastered across every digital and print tabloid. I knew it was an incredibly low blow, but wrath had blinded me.

I sat in Zayne's high-rise office, legs crossed elegantly, watching the news cycle churn, indulging in the rage unfolding.

SMASH.

The remote shattered against the massive LED screen on the wall. He turned, his blue eyes burning with a cold but terrifying fury.

"What the hell is this, Kristine?"

"Who told you not to wear a condom?" I shrugged my shoulders.

"You are telling me," He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous hiss, "That after one night, you are carrying my child?"

"Biology is a funny thing," I smiled coldly.

He glared for a long time before regaining his composure and pinching the bridge of his nose, loosening his collarbone before snatching the file from my hand.

"Look at the reports yourself, check the date, two weeks after our sweet time,"

The reports were a masterpiece. A hefty bribe to my doctor had shifted the gestation date from five weeks to two.

On paper, this baby was a Nightwood. In reality, it was that motherfucker's.

After confirming, he threw the papers away outrageously, "Shit!"

Running his fingers through his silky locks while loosening his tie, looking undeniably heart-throbbing by these gestures as he leaned against the table.

We both were staring at each other. He was attempting to decrypt my intention but failed to do so I kept an innocent expression.

After a piercing silence, Zayne finally asked in a sigh.

"What do you want?" He finally asked, leaning over the desk until he was inches from my face.

"I want a father for my child," I said, my voice steady, like the obvious thing before hesitation brimmed in my chest.

"And I want a husband who can help me burn Edric Carton to the ground. I want him to watch us together, grovel and lose everything, including his dignity,"

Zayne's eyes narrowed, jaw clenching, "So, I am just a weapon to you against him? An asset?"

"... Maybe,"

The second I trailed off, he snapped his fingers twice and pointed at his door dominantly.

"Out,"

"Huh?"

"Get the fuck out of my office, Kristine Iglesias. I am not a pawn in someone's revenge fantasy." He declared, eyes sharply narrowed at me with disgust.

I returned the same gesture, glaring back at him with contempt.

"Then you should have thought about your actions before, asshole,"

I stood up, smoothed my skirt, and walked out without a word because I knew he would call. Men like Zayne didn't let their 'blood' walk around unprotected.

He would take the responsibility and I would take advantage of that.

Depraved of me, I know.

But, that is life, no one had mercy for the other, everyone was an asset to use for another and I won't let people take advantage of me anymore.

After a tiresome day, ignoring the looks I received during work, I returned home. Too exhausted to discuss things, we both went to sleep.

The next day, humming to myself, I walked toward my car, and a group of women, Zayne's obsessed followers, blocked my path.

"You liar!!"

They were screaming, calling me a social climber, a liar. One of them reached down, grabbed a stone, and hurled it at me.

I braced for the impact, my hands instinctively flying to cover my stomach.

But, the blow never came.

The man with an addictive scent and dominating aura appeared before me, blocking my stomach instinctively to protect me from his fangirls.

Gasping inaudibly, I looked up and saw Zayne.

"Touch her again," Zayne growled at the crowd, sending daggers at them for daring to forget their place, his warning cutting through the air.

"And I will make sure you never see the light of day." A single warning was all it took for him to send them away.

"Zayne...?"

"Are you hurt?" He asked, hesitantly placing his hand over my stomach, gaze softening with a tremble I knew would exist in him.

Forming my lips in a thin line, I nodded, "Yes,"

He didn't say another word. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me back toward my apartment building, not giving me enough time to comprehend.

He shoved his way inside, slamming the door shut behind us.

He didn't give me space to breathe, to register, to speak, he simply pushed me against the door, a large hand clasped my wrist before securing it beside my head.

The atmosphere in the room shifted, from protection to something much more predatory and darker.

Ignoring my question, he stepped dangerously closer, towering over me while taking a strand of my hair between his fingers, caressing it.

"You want your revenge?" He growled, hovering over me that sent an unforeseen spark down my core.

"Fine. I will give it to you. I will give you a wedding that will make Edric choke on his own heart. But, I don't do charity, Kristine."

I blinked, "Come again?"

I knew he would return but didn't expect it to be this early.

"I have my conditions," He demanded strictly.

My heart skipped a beat at his level of seriousness. His features were hardened, holding no place for jest or refusal, seeking nothing but submission from me.

Tensing my shoulder, I stepped back cautiously, "What conditions?"

"Be mine. All mine."

Wrapping his hand around my throat perfectly, he brought me closer, emerging the heat from his hot body into mine.

Possessiveness flickered in his oceanic eyes. With his face adjacent to mine, he gave my throat a gentle squeeze that made me weak to my knees.

"From your emotions to your body, all of it shall belong to me. I will have you whenever, however I want, and you won't resist,"

Surprised to find him needing me so explicitly, I tried to get back but he didn't allow me and pressed me into him, forcing me to maintain the intense eye-contact.

"Why?"

He smirked maliciously, "Offers should be made equal. You will get your revenge and I will get my child and you. Every. Single. Piece."

Tentativeness bloomed, I began to have second thoughts but when I had taken a step forward, giving up became no longer an option.

Inhaling sharply, I held his wrist to remove it from my throat.

"Will you truly help me, Zayne?"

"Yes, I will, Kristine,"

Taking a step back, holding his chin up in pride, he offered his hand to me, making the terms crystal-clear.

I get my revenge.

He gets me.

"Offer your heart, your body, your soul to me, Kristine, and I shall ensure you get anything you want,"

I realized then that I wasn't just making a deal with a billionaire. I was signing a contract with the devil. He had a motive, something darker than just wanting a family.

But I had already stepped into the fire. There was no going back.

My heart picked pace, hands turned cold in anticipation but at the same time, an equal amount of thrill filled me.

Glancing at his handsome face, and back to his hand, I clasped his hand in mine, pleasing him endlessly.

Smirking darkly, I kissed his knuckles, widening his smirk, accepting his offer wholeheartedly.

"From this moment onwards, I am all yours, My Dear Husband,"

My kiss on his knuckles wasn't submission; it was a seal. 

No more humiliation. No more betrayal. No more cheating.

Just as I pulled away, his grip turned to iron, eyes darkened, “Do you swear on your life, Kristine?”

My throat dried at the intensity but playing along, I nodded firmly.

“I swear on my life, Zayne,”  

Zayne's smirk didn’t fade. Instead, it sharpened, into a victorious, devilishly, predatory one that was beyond my comprehension. 

“Good girl,” he hummed and stepped back.

“Let’s cover the loopholes before proceeding,”

“What loopholes?” 

“The public needs to see a united front. The engagement announcement needs to be real, immediate, and utterly convincing.” 

He pulled out his phone, already conveying a series of orders into it that required immediate obedience. 

“Get me a line to JNews. I demand a live, streamed interview with Lia James in thirty minutes. Tell them Mr. Nightwood and Miss Iglesias have a major personal announcement.”

He snapped the phone shut, his eyes returning to me with chilling coldness, his eyes judged me, observing all of my inches.

“What?” 

“You look too casual, Kristine, for the interview. Fix the look. You are not that loser’s girlfriend anymore, you are my soon-to-be bride. Look like one,” he ordered dominantly, taking me by surprise.

I blinked, standing like a statue, registering his words because such swift progression was not a part of my plan. 

He was about to go back to his phone but paused, “Why are you still standing? Go,”

“Okay,” 

Exactly thirty minutes later, dressed formally, I sat beside him in his private conference room, pumping my blood in anticipation.

The meticulous setting was done to look both intimate and luxurious. Soft lights, sheer supremacy, and a branded window view of the city skyline. 

‘Take that, Edric!’ I thought victoriously.

With a sly smile, our one hand was intertwined as a display of affection. His other hand spread across the headrest, asserting his dominance. 

“We are live in three, two...” 

Clearing her throat, the interview went live, people started watching immediately, filled with intrigue to know what we had to say about the pregnancy.

“Welcome, viewers,” the interviewer, Lia James, beamed. 

“We are here with Zayne Nightwood and Kristine Iglesias, following the… scandalous news of their unexpected pregnancy.”

“The word ‘scandal’ is inaccurate, Lia,” Zayne interrupted, his voice deep, smooth, and laced with a strange affection.

“What is accurate then, Mr. Nightwood?” 

Zayne turned his head slowly, meeting mine. An unreadable gleam flickered as he squeezed my hand possessively.

My eyes twitched, failing to read through his actions when he lifted our joined hands and kissed the back of my palm.

“This is not a scandal. Merely a surfacing of a complicated, irresistible, and forbidden relationship.” He paused, letting the implication hang, gaining all the attention. 

“A passion we can no longer hide due to our baby,”

Pressing my knuckles under his cheek, he immaculately displayed his affection openly, convincing everyone due to the fake softness.

Even I felt the heat rise, my beats amplified, studying his mystifying expressions shifting smoothly to solidify this act. 

Playing my part too, I forced myself to lean into him, resting my head lightly on his shoulder. 

It felt shockingly natural when our eyes locked in such public proximity. 

“Are you confirming what the world is hoping for, Mr. Nightwood? That you are committing to Kristine and the child?”

Lia gasped, she knew she was going to receive a bonus. 

Zayne didn’t break the stare, his expression melting into something intensely tender. He tucked a stray strand of my hair behind her ear, tracing his fingers on my jawline, inducing a fire in my body.

“Kristine Iglesias is going to be my wife in two weeks.” he declared, earning a series of gasps. 

What the fuck? We didn’t discuss that!

“What?” My eyes widened.

“June. Ring.”

“Yes, Sir,”

Shifting back slightly, his hand extended when his assistant placed the beautiful carved box in his palm only to reveal a spellbinding ring.

He was daring me to break character, smirking while sliding the ring smoothly into my finger, sealing this act officially.

I took my cue though my heart pounded at an irregular pace, shocked and disheartened at the same time by the way things turned. 

Not the future I imagined. 

But, this was certainly the path I had chosen. 

I must not stray from it and uphold my frontage too. 

Subsequently, I stared at Zayne as if he was my entire world. The man who had pulled me from the wreckage of my previous relationship.

My Savior. 

“We are absolutely ecstatic to be welcoming our child and we are announcing our engagement. Let’s live happily ever after, Dear,”

Liar. All of it is a lie, a voice screamed in her head. But the camera saw only devotion and so did my pretty eyes. 

“Of course… Dear,” I smirked, my gaze darkening.

He saw my strong desire for vengeance, and it made him chuckle.

“Miss Iglesias, many are saying this is a sudden, dramatic shift from your relationship with Mr. Carton. Can you address the claims that this new relationship was born out of revenge?” Lia pressed.

I sat up straight, letting go of Zayne only to place one hand flat on my chest and another towards the camera to show off the diamond ring.

“Edric and I… we have closed that chapter,” I said, injecting just enough sadness to make it believable. 

“The pain was real, yes. But Zayne, he showed me what real commitment and passion felt like.”

“We wish Mr. Carton well, but we are focused on our future.”

He spoke up first, setting up clear-cut boundaries before Lia could make another judgement.

“Also, if anyone tries to interfere with my fiancée, they will be dealt with severely.”

Zayne continued from my side, hand pressing firmly on my shoulder to serve the perfect ending - a strict warning.

“Obviously. Good luck to you two,” 

The interview was a smashing success. 

But, the time things wrapped up and everyone was gone, I pulled away roughly from him, my jaw dropping.

“What the hell was that, Zayne? Two weeks? Don’t you think it’s too early?”

He simply unbuttoned his suit jacket with a grace that made my skin prickle and straighten up.

“You swore on your life, Kristine. Did you think a 'seal' was just a poetic gesture?” He asked in a low, tempting tone, pushing me down on the couch, shifting on top of me.

“I thought it was a partnership.” I whispered when he was right before me, his hot body trapping me.

He reached out, his fingers unhooking my dress’s front, exposing the cleavage for his displeasure, pulling me sharply into his space.

"Ah, stop it..." I gasped.

My hands instinctively landed on his chest to push him away but it was too late, he was already down, his face buried in my chest.

His wetness soaking through the skin, arousing my body undeniably by the tension. My head unknowingly tilted back, giving him further access.

“Ah, stop it… So- Some will see–” 

His breath was a hot caress against my neck, biting down my shoulder, evoking a moan.

His hand slid inside my shirt, kissing my exposed skin passionately, blinding my senses to focus on the building pleasure. 

"Say it," he commanded huskily, his teeth grazing my earlobe, giving my breast a rough squeeze.

“Say you understand who owns this story.”

“Ah! I… I…” 

My face flushed, gripping his shirt weakly as I could feel myself getting wetter by his dominance. 

His knee refuses to let me close my legs, tongue trailing a sinful path on my neck, controlling my heartbeats on the tip of his fingers.

But, before we could process, the door knocked and slightly opened, “Sir the–”

Zayne’s eyes darkened, glaring towards the door, “Out. Now.” 

His assistant, absolutely frightened of his reaction, scrambled away.

Zayne turned back to me, his shirt already undone, exposing the enticing abs. He pulled my legs around his waist, forcing me into a heated contact.

“Can’t you see I am about to teach soon-to-be Mrs. Nightwood a lesson?”  

“Zayne–” 

“Shh. It's alright.” Before I could resist, he had his thumb tracing my lower lips before putting it in my mouth.

“I am going to make you understand who holds the authority in this relationship, Kristine.”