There was no way for her to run now-Anthony Donovan was already at the door.

She spun around quickly, grabbed a glass ashtray from the coffee table, and silently hid behind the door, trying her best to keep the panic at bay.

With a click, the door opened, and Anthony walked in.

"Hey there, pretty girl. Daddy's here..." He peeked in with that greasy grin.

Ew. The fact that he actually said that? Revolting.

In her mind, Denise was tearing him a new one.

The moment he got close, she didn't even hesitate-she swung the ashtray hard at his head.

Smash!

The ashtray hit the floor. Anthony stared at her, blood already dripping down from his scalp. "You little bitch, you actually hit me?!"

Without missing a beat, Denise darted out the door.

Anthony staggered to the door, holding his head and yelling for help.

Denise had no idea where she was headed, she just kept running.

But his bodyguards soon caught on and started chasing. The sound of footsteps closing in made her tremble. At the sight of a nearby room, she quickly yanked the door open, slipped inside, and locked it.

Finally able to breathe, she slumped for a second-until a man's face suddenly popped into view.

She nearly screamed.

"Who the hell are you?! You scared the hell out of me!" Denise clutched her chest, trying to calm down.

The man gave her a once-over with narrowed eyes, his voice low and calm. "More like, who are you? Want me to toss you out right now?"

Only then did she realize she'd barged into someone else's room. But the drug in her system was kicking in hard-sweat collected on her forehead, and her throat felt like it was on fire.

Suddenly, she reached out and grabbed the front of the man's pristine white shirt. "Please... please help me..."

"Why should I?" Jason Harrington had a pretty good guess of what was going on just from experience-someone was clearly after her.

"I'll do anything, just help me," she begged, the fear of Mr. Donovan catching her overriding all else.

Pounding started on the door, loud and urgent.

"Please, I'm begging you, don't let them take me!" she pleaded, voice shaking.

Without waiting for his answer, she dashed into the bedroom.

Her body felt weaker by the second. She tried making it to the bathroom to splash some cold water on herself, but before she got far, she collapsed to the floor. The heat inside her was unbearable.

"So hot... it's too hot..." Her mind was a blur. She kept tugging at her sheer nightgown, trying to cool down.

After Jason dealt with whoever was outside, he walked back in and froze.

There she was, lying on the carpet, her clothes half-scrambled. The way her body showed through the fabric... it was impossible to ignore.

"Hey! This isn't a hotel. Get the hell out!" Jason barked, thinking this was just another attention-seeking stunt.

But no matter how many times he called her, Denise didn't respond. He reached out to touch her forehead-burning hot.

She's been drugged!

That would explain why she clung to him like that, her whole demeanor completely changed, full of sultry desperation.

"Please... don't leave..." she murmured, slipping into a dream where her mother was walking away from her.

Jason might come off as cold, but he's still got principles. He hadn't planned on taking advantage of anyone, but the way Denise was dressed-and the fact that she was all over him-he was still a guy at the end of the day.

A wild, out-of-line thought popped into his head. Without thinking, he lifted Denise onto the bed, unbuttoned his shirt, and tossed it aside.

Under the soft light, he noticed for the first time-this woman was actually quite the looker. Her face was full of youth, and her figure... let's just say it didn't leave much to the imagination. Every inch of her seemed to scream temptation.

As his eyes landed on her tempting lips, he instinctively leaned in, ready to kiss her. But just as quickly, his sharp mind pulled him back. He shoved her off with a grunt, got up, dug a camera out of the drawer, set it at the perfect angle facing the bed, and hit record.

"When you wake up tomorrow, don't go blaming me. You climbed into my bed all on your own," Jason smirked wickedly at the woman sprawled on his bed before diving back in.

In the glowing night lights of Seaville, what happened on that bed was anything but calm.

The next morning.

Denise groggily opened her eyes, her whole body sore. How long had she been out? Was she going to be late for class?

What was this hard thing next to her?

She looked down... and saw a shirtless man lying beside her.

"AHHHH!!" her scream pierced the air of the presidential suite.

Jason groaned awake from the noise, and when he saw who it was, he frowned, clearly annoyed. "What are you screaming for this early? You're gonna wake the entire city."

"Who... who the hell are you? Why are you here?!" Denise stared at him in disbelief.

"You're asking me? This is my suite, and you stormed in begging me to sleep with you last night. Don't make it sound like I forced anything."

Denise's brain short-circuited. She couldn't process any of it. Wrapping herself in the blanket, she stared at him in shock.

"What are you covering up for? I already saw and touched everything," Jason shrugged, the corner of his mouth quirked up, clearly finding the situation amusing.

"You pervert! I'm calling the cops-I'm reporting you for assault!" she shouted.

Jason simply chuckled, "Go ahead. I've got plenty of evidence to back me up." He got up casually, wearing only boxers, his toned abs and strong build on full display.

He grabbed the camera's card, plugged it into the TV, and hit play. In an instant, the screen lit up with intimate scenes, along with some very unmistakable sounds. Denise was just about to cuss him out as a lunatic, but then she suddenly froze-

That woman on the screen... was her.

No way. That couldn't be. She couldn't have done something that shameless.

And then it all started coming back. She remembered being drugged-she'd escaped that creep Mr. Donovan's room and, by accident, ended up in this man's room.

She hadn't escaped after all. She just swapped one man for another.

Her fists clenched tight. All the resentment she'd buried-toward Arthur, Vivian-came bubbling up.

Then her eyes landed on Jason again. Honestly... he was good-looking. Tall, defined face, sharp features, and-okay, fine-a killer six-pack.

Compared to Mr. Donovan's greasy, aging fifty-something self... well, maybe this wasn't such a bad deal after all.

"So, what now? Wanna take this video to court and sue me or what?" Jason raised an eyebrow at her with a teasing grin.

At that moment, Denise yanked the bed sheet off herself and started walking straight toward Jason, completely unfazed.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa-you're not actually thinking about round two, are you? Damn, didn't peg you as the insatiable type..." Jason muttered to himself. But just as he was mumbling, Denise reached down near his feet and casually picked up his shirt, slipping it on.

His shirt was huge on her, pretty much covered her down to her thighs.

Watching her move, Jason instantly felt a wave of awkwardness wash over him. Wow, talk about overthinking.

"I'm not gonna sue you," Denise said coolly, then walked over to the drawer, pulled out some paper and a pen, and started scribbling quickly.

"What's your name?" she asked, suddenly turning to look at him.

Jason raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. He was curious now-what kind of play was she trying to pull?

"Jason."

After jotting it down, she tossed the paper at his face. "There. I admit it-I slept with you. I should be compensating you, but I'm broke. That's your... payment, okay?"

And with that, she strolled over to the TV, yanked out the card, slammed the door behind her, and left.

"Hey! That's my shirt-" Jason called after her, but she was already gone.

This woman seriously had guts. She even had the nerve to leave him "payment."

He picked up the paper to take a look. Turns out, it was an IOU.

Denise: Confirmed sleeping with Jason on [date], owes him 200 bucks. There was also her number and her signature.

Jason stared at it, his face going stiff.

No way. Did she seriously treat him like a bootleg gigolo? That was brutal.

But the kicker? Only 200 bucks?! That just rubbed salt in the wound.

That shameless woman. How could she humiliate him like this? He wasn't just anyone-he was the CEO of the Harrington Group. 200 bucks? Seriously?

Once the rage died down, something else bubbled up-Jason actually found the whole thing kind of hilarious. No woman had ever dared to pull that move on him before. And instead of actual money, she handed him an IOU?

If word got out, people would laugh their heads off.

He scanned around for a shirt but only found a pair of pants. Took him a second to remember-yeah, she literally walked off in his shirt.

Denise... Not only did she show zero gratitude, she had the audacity to leave him with some fake payment and take his clothes too.

Jason instantly whipped out his phone and called Ben Torres. "Bring me some clothes. Now."

After hanging up, he tossed the phone on the bed and went to the drawer, pulled out a camera, popped it open, and retrieved another memory card from inside.

A smirk crept up on his face. "Denise, you think I didn't plan ahead? You've got another thing coming."

He'd made a backup already-years of business had taught him never to leave things to chance.

Meanwhile, Denise hadn't gone far from the hotel. She chucked the card into a trash bin and borrowed someone's phone outside to call Lily Bennett.

"Hey, Lily, I need you to bring me some clothes-like, ASAP. It's an emergency. I'm near the east side mall by our school, it should only take like ten minutes by taxi."

"Girl, are you serious right now? It's Cynthia's class today, and now you're skipping and dragging me along? You trying to get us both failed?" Lily complained on the other end.