The sudden assault sent Elaina’s eyes wide. Her body reacted instinctively, as if she had forgotten how to breathe. Her heart hammered against her ribs, the sound so thunderous it echoed in her own ears.

​The searing kiss claimed her lips, deepening into a hunger that left her breathless. Her body stiffened, and she frantically pressed her hands against his chest. With every ounce of strength she had left, Elaina shoved Alister away. The force finally created a distance between them, though her limbs continued to tremble.

​Elaina wiped her mouth, the lingering sensation of his lips only heightening her unrest. When she spoke, her voice was a fragile, jagged thing. Her gaze locked onto Alister’s, demanding an explanation for the line he had just crossed.

​“Sir... what on earth was that?” she stammered.

​Alister simply smirked. “A morning kiss. And you called me 'Sir.' Does that mean you remember what we did last night?”

​His smile and the predatory glint in his eyes seemed to paralyze her. Elaina stood frozen, her face flushing a deep crimson as she clutched the edges of her towel, terrified it might slip. She couldn't help but notice how handsome he was—the light dusting of hair on his chest, and the intricate tattoo that started on his arm and snaked down toward his waist. She didn't understand the meaning of the ink, but a flash of memory hit her: last night, she had traced that very chest with desperate passion.

​“Sir... do we even know each other?”

​Alister nodded. “Since last night. Do you remember my name?” His slight smile deepened, revealing a faint dimple partially hidden by his stubble.

​Elaina searched her clouded memory before nodding slowly. “Alister.”

​“And do you remember what you did at the hotel?”

​Elaina nodded again, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Yes. I went to Fidell’s wedding.”

​“And who is he?”

​“My... my ex-fiancé.”

​Alister suppressed a grin. “You crashed your ex-fiancé’s wedding. You caused a scene while completely wasted. If I hadn't carried you out of there, security would have tossed you onto the pavement like trash. Do you remember that?”

​Elaina bit her lip and closed her eyes as the fragments of the night before crashed back into her mind. She let out a soft, defeated sigh. She regretted everything. The alcohol she had used for liquid courage had stripped her of all control. Her plan was to unleash her rage on Fidell, but a bottle of Vodka Martini had rewritten the script.

​She realized how reckless she had been. The alcohol had blurred her judgment and made her body betray her. Shame washed over her; she never imagined she would end up in a situation like this.

​Yet, beneath the regret, she had to admit one thing: if it weren't for Alister, she would be stranded on the streets. The thought of what could have happened without him made her shudder. He was right—he had saved her from a much darker night.

​Elaina looked down, her voice barely audible as she whispered a thank you. The words were so soft they seemed meant only for her. She knew a simple "thank you" wasn't enough to repay him, but it was an admission that she was now in his debt.

​Alister tilted her chin up, studying her suddenly somber expression. “Did Fidell hurt you?”

​Elaina nodded, then her eyes went wide. “Sir, do you know Fidell?”

​“Ah, I work at Cakrawala Group.”

​“Oh, I see. So you were invited to the wedding too?”

​“Of course. That’s how I found you.”

​Elaina sighed, running a hand through her damp hair. “I must have been an embarrassment last night.”

​“A little,” Alister admitted, stepping toward a wardrobe. He pulled out a small towel and handed it to her. “But I got you out before you did something you couldn't take back. Here, use this. Your hair is soaking.”

​Elaina took it with a shy smile. She wanted to sit down, but the awkwardness of being semi-naked in a stranger's bedroom was suffocating. Alister stepped closer, sending her pulse into another erratic rhythm.

​“Do you want me to help you?”

​Elaina looked up, confused. “Help me with what?”

​“Getting even with Fidell.”

​Confused, Elaina stared at him. Her eyes practically screamed, How could a man like you help me?

​Alister smiled, sensing her doubt. “I can. But we’ll do it my way. Like two consenting adults who need each other.” His fingers brushed against her collarbone, a light, teasing touch. “Don’t get drunk again, Elaina. You’re dangerous when you’re wasted. Last night, if I had taken advantage of you, you’d be lying in that bed right now, exhausted from making love.”

​Elaina turned beet-red, her chest tight with embarrassment.

​“It’s not that I didn't want to,” Alister said, closing the gap until their bodies nearly touched. “You’re beautiful and sexy. But I want to do it when you’re sober. That’s why we’re going to make a deal to help you get your revenge.”

​Elaina swallowed hard, biting her lower lip. Her skin felt electric under his gaze and the warmth of his breath. “Does that mean... we have to sleep together?” she asked nervously.

​Alister nodded without hesitation. “Naturally. As a couple. Even if your only reason for being with me is revenge, I don’t care. We will act like a real, mature couple. Do you understand?”

​Elaina stared at him, her mind spinning. She was furious with Fidell, but was faking a relationship with a stranger a fair trade? And Alister had emphasized a "mature" relationship—which meant more than just kisses; it meant sharing his bed. Could she actually do it?

​“You don’t have to decide now. Think about it. Anyway, your dress is ruined. I hope I have something you can wear.” Alister opened the wardrobe, revealing rows of neat clothes. “Just t-shirts and dress shirts.”

​Elaina looked at the organized closet and pointed to a short-sleeved navy blue shirt. “Can I borrow that?”

​Alister handed it to her. “Put it on. I’ll be in the dining room. Breakfast is waiting.”

​Elaina’s hands shook as she pulled on the shirt. Luckily, her lingerie was still clean. She looked sadly at her torn, dirt-stained gown—the one Fidell had bought her when they got engaged. It had been a beautiful dress, a perfect fit. Now, like his promises, it was trashed.

​The heartache returned, sharp and cold. She stood before the mirror, looking at her disheveled reflection in the oversized shirt that barely reached her mid-thigh. It wasn't proper, but it was enough. She had to face the reality: Fidell was no longer hers. He was another woman’s husband.

​So what do I do now? she wondered. Mourn a man who dumped me without a word? She felt like a fool, crying over a love that had already died.

​She grabbed her clutch from the nightstand and tentatively opened the bedroom door. She gasped at the interior. It was breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, a massive sofa anchored the living space, and floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the city.

​“This looks like a penthouse, not just an apartment,” Elaina remarked as Alister appeared from a side room.

​Alister nodded. “It is.”

​“Do you live here, Sir?” she asked.

​“Temporarily. This place is a loan. Just like the car I drive—it belongs to the company.”

​“I see.”

​“Sit down. Food is on the table.”

​They sat across from each other at a heavy, elegant wooden table. Elaina opened the containers and smiled at the sight of sandwiches, fruit salad, and garlic bread. It was exactly what she liked. How did he know?

​She took a bite of the sandwich, savoring the savory mix of tuna, mayo, and a hint of chili. It was the best thing she’d tasted all morning. Alister, meanwhile, was devouring a beef burger.

​“Your friend is very kind, Sir,” she said.

​Alister looked up. “Why?”

​“Lending you a place this luxurious.”

​“Yes, he is. Finish your food; we have a lot to discuss. I don’t need you fainting from hunger.”

​They ate in silence. Elaina stole glances at him as he read something on his iPad. He was magnetic. Up close, his eyes weren't black, but a deep, warm brown. A handsome, single man... was he a manager at Cakrawala?

​“Elaina...”

​“Yes, Sir.”

​“Stop staring at me. You’re making me want to take my clothes off.”

​“Wh—what? Why?”

​“Because the view is much clearer when I’m naked.”

​Elaina immediately looked down at her plate, her face burning. She told herself to be careful with this man. It was as if Alister could read her every thought.

The bed groaned, vibrating with the rhythm of two bodies entwined. They clung to each other, skin slick with sweat, as the intensity of their union reached a fever pitch. The man lay back, surrendering control to the woman moving above him. His fingers traced and gripped her, both lost in a powerful, desperate embrace.

Her movements were swift and deliberate-a rhythmic rise and fall that drew a long, ragged groan from him. It was a different experience for him, more potent and exhilarating than anything he had known before. Though he had been with other women, none could compare to his wife. Ivanka moved with a confidence that suggested intimacy was a language she spoke fluently.

Fidell gripped her waist, his thrusts becoming faster, more urgent. With one final, forceful surge, he reached his peak. He collapsed onto the mattress, chest heaving as he tried to steady his racing heart.

Ivanka stared down at her limp husband with heavy, lackluster eyes and let out a sharp sigh. "Why did you finish so early?"

Fidell shook his head, still gasping for air. "I'm sorry, darling. But you... you're just so incredible. I couldn't help myself."

Ivanka said nothing. She disentangled herself from his embrace, reached for a silk robe on the sofa, and threw it on, leaving her lingerie abandoned on the floor. She walked to the window, opened it, and lit a cigarette. Irritation flared within her; her body felt hollow, completely unfulfilled by their session.

Fidell was tall and well-built-he should have had the stamina to match. That's what Ivanka had expected. But expectation and reality were two different worlds. They had made love twice now, and both times, Fidell had tapped out first. Ivanka kept this simmering resentment to herself.

"Are you angry, love?" Fidell asked tentatively. "I'm sorry. I-I'll try harder next time."

Ivanka turned and forced a small smile. "Maybe you're just exhausted."

Fidell nodded, rubbing his face. "True. The wedding prep, the office work... it's taken a toll."

"Exhausted from the office? Or from dealing with your screaming ex-girlfriend?"

Ivanka's words made Fidell stiffen. He sat bolt upright, staring at his wife as she blew out a plume of smoke. "I already told you the truth. I ended things with that woman."

Ivanka watched the smoke curl in the air and gave a thin smile. "I wonder who's lying. You or her. Because I remember her saying you only broke things off a couple of days ago."

"She's a liar!"

Fidell scrambled off the bed, approaching her. They had only been married for a day, and here they were, embroiled in an argument on their second morning. It was all Elaina's fault. Determined not to let his honeymoon be ruined, he wrapped his arms around her.

"Don't be angry, darling. Believe me. We have nothing to do with each other anymore."

Ivanka scoffed, feeling the hollow ring in his words. "Whatever you had must have been special. Otherwise, she wouldn't have stormed our wedding like that."

"It wasn't special-she's just insane. What sane girl humiliates herself like that? Please, just trust me."

Fidell stroked her back, kissing her shoulder. He cursed Elaina inwardly for the minefield she had laid for him. Since last night, he had been bombarded with questions from his parents, his in-laws, and now his wife. Everyone was interrogating him about Elaina.

The whole ordeal had left him fuming. He had been questioning his friends one by one, trying to find out who gave her an invitation. No one had confessed. It remained a frustrating mystery.

"Fidell, if you want this to go away, you need to handle that girl," Ivanka said sharply.

Fidell nodded, kissing her neck. "I will. I'll settle it. No one is going to ruin our marriage."

"Good." Ivanka guided his hand toward her and spoke with a sharp edge. "Now, what about this? I'm still waiting to be satisfied."

Fidell smirked, pulling her robe open. He knelt before her, lifting one of her thighs over his shoulder. "Let me take care of it."

Ivanka leaned against the wall, trying to find pleasure in his touch. It wasn't great, but it would have to do for today. It seemed Fidell simply wasn't born to be a great lover. She realized she had expected far too much. As he worked, she let out a sigh. She wanted to be thrown onto the bed and taken properly, but she knew her husband had no strength left.

"Damn it," she muttered under her breath, while below her, Fidell worked harder, oblivious to her true frustration.

Back at the penthouse, Elaina finished clearing the breakfast table. Alister stood by the espresso machine. His movements were slightly awkward-further proof that this place wasn't his. Elaina watched him, her eyes wandering over the sun-drenched room. Whoever owned this place was incredibly wealthy; the decor alone must have cost a fortune.

"Sir, what exactly do you do for a living?" Elaina asked, unable to contain her curiosity.

Alister turned, balancing two cups of espresso. Steam curled from the dark liquid as he set them on the table.

"What do you think?"

Elaina tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. "This isn't your penthouse, but you live here. You use everything freely. My guess? You're someone's assistant. Or maybe a driver?"

Alister raised an eyebrow. He approached her, trapping her between his arms against the dining table. "A driver? Fine. Consider me your driver, then. From now on, I'll take you wherever you need to go. I hope you don't mind having a driver as a lover."

Elaina swallowed hard. "We aren't real lovers."

"Maybe not, but based on your answer, I'll take that as a 'yes' to my offer. We can discuss the details of your revenge later."

"I-I haven't agreed yet, Sir." Elaina bit her lip, her heart racing as Alister leaned closer. She could see his tattoos clearly now through his clothes, and she felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to touch them.

"Then I must be getting ahead of myself," Alister whispered. His hand trailed down her side. He loved the way she looked in his shirt-absolutely adorable. "Because I assumed that by sleeping in my bed on your first night here, you were officially mine."

He gripped her waist and hoisted her onto the table, capturing her lips before she could protest. He kissed her deeply, his hands sliding up her thighs. He relished the sensation of their bodies pressed together. His fingers slipped under the hem of the shirt to find her skin.

"You're tense... I'll take that as a 'yes' too."

Elaina let out a soft moan, lost in the strange, electric thrill of his touch. "Sir, I-"

"Shh. Just be quiet. I'm going to give you something to think about today."

Alister pushed the shirt up, baring her skin. He laid her back across the dining table and leaned down. Elaina gasped, her breathing turning ragged, the room filling with her uncontrolled sighs. Alister remained focused, savoring every inch of her, indifferent to the wild sounds echoing in the elegant room.