Inside her bedroom, Leanna gathered every strip of fabric and length of cloth she could find, knotting them tightly together until they formed a rope. With cautious movements, she lowered it from the window and began climbing down.

Determination hardened her features as she ground her teeth together. No matter the cost, she would make Carl and Lucy pay for everything. Those two shameless bastards would not escape what they had done!

All at once, a name surfaced in her mind like a sudden flicker.

Ian Spencer.

As Carl's uncle and the real power behind the Spencer family, Ian held the authority everyone else answered to.

Gaining his protection might be the only path left open to her.

Drawing in a measured breath, Leanna forced herself to ignore the stabbing pain in her ankle and picked up her phone to contact a private detective.

...

Five days later, the Spencer Group's press conference buzzed with reporters and flashing cameras. Using her college-issued press card as cover, Leanna slipped quietly into the venue unnoticed.

In the backstage area, a man sat alone beneath the muted lights, his posture rigid, his silhouette radiating a cold, commanding presence.

She immediately assumed it must be Ian.

Drawing in a slow breath, Leanna steadied her racing heart and stepped closer.

From the chair, Wesley Stewart lifted his head, his eyes narrowing with quiet intensity as they fixed on her. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"I'm..." Words caught in her throat for a split second as her mind raced through possibilities.

Admitting who she really was would likely result in being dragged straight back to Wheeler Mansion. Instead, she chose to gamble—trusting that he probably didn't recognize Carl's fiancee and might at least be curious about a stranger bold enough to approach him.

Lifting her chin, Leanna met his sharp, assessing gaze and forced a faint, reckless smile, the expression of someone who had already run out of options. "I heard your family's been pressuring you to settle down," she said, her voice even. "And from what I know, you're still single. So… I'd like to be your girlfriend."

Wesley's eyes betrayed a moment of surprise, though his voice remained completely composed. "And what exactly makes you think I'd agree to something like that?"

Clenching her teeth, Leanna forced herself to hold his gaze. "Because I'm bold enough to ask."

"Bold, huh?" A low, amused laugh slipped from him as he rose from his chair. "And you think that's supposed to impress me?"

Before he could walk away, Leanna reacted on instinct.

She lunged forward and caught hold of his sleeve. When he turned back in mild surprise, she rose onto her toes, looped her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips against his.

The kiss was awkward, reckless, and completely unpolished, like a gamble made without thinking.

Almost immediately, she pulled away. Composure snapped back over her features as she forced a calm smile and asked, "Well? Am I bold enough for you now?"

Wesley studied her quietly. Beneath that forced confidence, the faint blush on her cheeks betrayed her nerves. His gaze darkened slightly, and his Adam's apple shifted as he swallowed. "You want to be my girlfriend?" he said at last. "Fine. But before that, let's see whether you're capable of… living up to my standards."

...

Inside the hotel room, the air felt unusually still.

A faint tremor ran through Leanna's fingertips while Wesley casually motioned toward the bed.

"Come here," he murmured, his voice rough and low.

From across the room, he observed her slow, uncertain steps, amusement flickering quietly in his piercing eyes—so shy, yet audacious enough to stand there and claim she was fearless.

Without warning, he reached out and tugged her closer, pulling Leanna straight into his arms as her startled gaze lifted to meet his.

Instantly, the space between them thickened with a charged, breathless tension.

Pressed against him, Leanna felt the unmistakable change in his body beneath her, and heat rushed to her face before she could hide it.

A low laugh slipped from Wesley's chest, his tone deep and teasing. "Didn't you say you were bold enough? You said you wanted to be my girlfriend. Is this the best you can do?"

A stubborn spark flared in Leanna's eyes as she tightened her jaw, forcing herself not to retreat.

Slowly, she lifted trembling fingers to Wesley's shirt, trying to work the buttons loose, yet her unsteady hands fumbled helplessly, taking what felt like forever just to ease open the first one.

Across from her, Wesley watched in silence, his gaze heavy and unwavering.

Her hands skimmed over the firm warmth of his chest, and though her movements were hesitant and clumsy, the faint touch still stirred a fierce, restless heat inside him.

After struggling for what felt like ages, she finally succeeded in slipping the first button free.

Wesley's fingers tilted her chin upward, his thumb brushing slowly over her lips before he bent down and claimed them in a deep, lingering kiss.

When he pushed inside her, she tensed at the dryness, but before long she opened up to him and her soft moans began to echo through the room.

Never in her wildest thoughts had Leanna imagined his dick would be so overwhelming.

Eyes fluttering shut, she surrendered to the rising waves of sensation, quiet, rhythmic murmurs of pleasure escaping her.

Clamping her teeth gently against her lower lip, she tried to keep quiet, yet the tension between them felt like an unspoken contest neither of them intended to lose.

Gradually, the room grew heavy with their stifled moans until the pressure finally broke through her restraint and a helpless cry of pleasure escaped her throat.

Breathing hard, Wesley bent over her, his chest rising and falling as his eyes studied every shift of expression across her flushed face.

"What's your name?" he asked, his voice rough with lingering breath.

"Leanna Wheeler..." She managed to say, the words leaving her lips with visible effort.

"So you're Emilio Wheeler's daughter?"

"That's right," she admitted, a thread of nervousness slipping into her voice.

Since she still believed him to be Ian, unease crept into her thoughts, and she couldn't help worrying that he might prove just as calculating and cold as Carl—if that turned out to be true, she had no idea what she would do next.

In that moment, Leanna realized thinking too much was the last thing she could afford.

Her last trace of restraint slipped away almost immediately; instinct drew her body into a tight curl while her fingertips clenched the rumpled sheets, heat flooding her cheeks as her pulse pounded wildly.

Close to her ear, Wesley's low, gravel-rough voice brushed against her skin. "You're in bed with me, and your mind's still wandering somewhere else?"

Silence was the only response she managed.

Shallow breaths rushed from her lips in quick, uneven bursts as the relentless pace of his movements swept her under, leaving her far too overwhelmed to cling to any stray thoughts.

Throughout the room, the charged atmosphere thickened with every passing second.

Leaning closer, Wesley seemed entirely absorbed in her, his fingers lifting her chin with firm gentleness while his dark gaze sharpened. In a quiet murmur he said, "I'll remember you, little one... along with the Wheeler family."

As the last thread of awareness slipped away from her grasp, Leanna faintly sensed him leaning in to whisper something against her ear.

Perhaps it had been a name. Yet when everything finally blurred into darkness, not a single word remained in her memory.

Exhaustion pulled her into a deep, dreamless rest that lasted until six the following morning.

Morning light filtered into the room as Leanna stirred awake, immediately noticing the dull soreness lingering between her legs.

Yesterday had been her first time, yet he had continued again and again with relentless stamina.

His intensity had been overwhelming, leaving her body aching even now.

Turning her head toward the other side of the bed, Leanna realized the man had already left.

Resting on the nearby table lay what looked like a placed note.

Rising from the bed, she felt the blanket slide down her shoulders, revealing the scattered marks their wild night had left across her skin.

After quickly putting her clothes on, she reached for the paper lying on the table.

Only then did she realize it wasn't a note he left at all. Instead, it was a check written for ten million.

A stunned pause settled over Leanna as the realization sank in.

Could the Spencer family truly be this wealthy?

She knew almost nothing about the true scale of the Spencer family's fortune, but one thing she understood perfectly—Carl could never scrape together ten million. Even coming up with a couple million would have drained him dry.

Yet the man from last night had written out ten million as casually as if it were spare change.

Shaking off the spiraling thoughts, she suddenly felt an odd hollowness spread through her chest.

By leaving that check behind… had he meant to cut things off completely, ensuring they would never cross paths again?

The idea made a quiet laugh slip from her lips.

When she thought about it, the arrangement made perfect sense.

After all, what they shared had been nothing more than a fleeting, reckless encounter.

One single night had earned her a check worth ten million—no matter how she calculated it, she had clearly come out ahead.

From here on out, all she needed to do was remain in her own world and make sure she never crossed his path again.

With that money in hand, she was certain she would finally have the means to strike back at Carl and the entire Wheeler family.

After sorting through her thoughts, Leanna folded the check carefully and headed straight for the bank to cash it.

It wasn't a scam after all.

That check for ten million was completely valid and could truly be withdrawn.

What troubled her instead was the way she walked—an obvious limp betraying her, every step sending a dull, pulsing ache through her lower body, as though the strain of the previous night had left her bruised and swollen.

Just then, her phone vibrated with a message from Emilio.

Across the screen appeared a short command. "Come back."

Moments later, another notification appeared—a video he had forwarded.

Within the footage, the gleam of a knife suddenly appeared, its blade creeping forward with chilling deliberation toward someone just out of view.

A moment later, the camera angle shifted, revealing Leanna's mother, Melody Wheeler, lying unconscious in a hospital bed, fragile and motionless, her body surrounded by a tangle of medical tubes. Hovering just above her wrist, the knife glinted, its blade swaying with quiet menace.

Shock slammed into Leanna, her eyes flying wide as the horrifying sight sank in.

A new voice message abruptly appeared on her screen. Emilio's cold, threatening voice rang out. "Did you see that? You have thirty minutes to come back. If you're even a minute late, I'll carve a mark into your mother's wrist. Got it?"

Inside, Leanna seethed with fury at the monster he had become, her fingers tightening around the phone. Anger flared in her gaze, making her eyes burn with fierce intensity.

Ten years ago, a devastating car crash had nearly claimed Melody's life—she had thrown herself forward to shield Leanna, and the impact had left her trapped in a vegetative state ever since.

All these years, the Wheeler family had been the one paying for Melody's hospital bills.

Emilio understood perfectly that the moment Melody's condition remained in his hands, Leanna would have no choice but to return.

And just as expected, she would come back.

With a steady breath, she sent Emilio a brief message before dragging her aching body toward the roadside to flag down a taxi.

...

From the upper floor of the bank building, Wesley stood before the towering window.

Below, through the glass, he watched Leanna struggle slightly as she climbed into the waiting taxi.

Against the surface of the sleek black desk, his fingers tapped in a slow, thoughtful rhythm.

A shadowed intensity settled in his gaze.

Never had he imagined that last night had been her first time.

She was his first as well, and at the start his movements carried a hint of uncertainty.

Yet once their bodies finally met, the dizzying pleasure swallowed every trace of hesitation, and he found himself unable to stop as one heated moment slipped seamlessly into the next.

By the time it ended, her fingers trembled weakly against the rumpled bedsheets, barely able to hold on.

To her, the night had at some point become nothing short of a grueling trial of endurance.

Though it was her very first time and he hadn't exactly been gentle, she stubbornly pressed her lips together, biting down hard to keep even the faintest cry of pain from escaping.

A quiet stab of remorse stirred inside him when he realized how much she must have endured.

As he stood quietly before the wide glass window, Wesley's gaze slowly sharpened. Shifting back a little, he murmured her name under his breath as if savoring its sound. "Leanna Wheeler… the Wheeler family, huh? Now that's interesting."

Leanna rushed back to the Wheeler Mansion as fast as she could.

Several servants were already standing by the front door, waiting for her to arrive.

Two of the staff members jumped forward the moment she stepped through the door and grabbed her wrists. They forced her arms behind her back, pinning her in place.

Emilio walked toward her while leaning heavily on his cane, his face twisted in anger. "You ungrateful girl! How dare you try to back out of this engagement!"

He lifted his hand high in the air, getting ready to slap her, but a sudden cough from across the room stopped him.

Shifting her focus toward the sound, Leanna glanced toward the far side of the room.

Carl was standing there, watching the whole scene unfold.

He looked just as annoyed as Emilio because he had spent the last few days stressed out by angry shareholders and bad press.

His main goal was to find a way to make himself look like a good person to the public again.

Furthermore, the Spencer Group's next big launch was essentially a paperweight without Leanna's sketches, so he literally couldn't afford to let her go.

Carl gazed at Leanna with a calculating, predatory glint. "Leanna, drop the act. Just walk down the aisle with me, and I'll pretend this little tantrum never happened," he offered.

Leanna didn't blink as she looked him right in the eye, her voice icy. "Carl, stop trying to gaslight me. You're the one who cheated right in front of my face. I would never marry you because, honestly, you're just repulsive," she snapped.

"How dare you!" Carl yelled, his face turning red with rage.

Only the fear of that incriminating cheating video going viral had forced him to grovel at the Wheeler Mansion in person.

Beyond the scandal, Carl knew after three years of being together with Leanna that her creative genius was his biggest meal ticket.

"You stubborn, ungrateful girl!" Emilio bellowed, raising his hand once more to try and strike her.

Leanna stared her father down, speaking through clenched teeth with total conviction. "I don't care if you kill me in this house, I am never, ever marrying him!" she vowed.

Fire burned so brightly in her gaze that for a split second, Emilio felt like he was looking at a ghost from his past, making him flinch.

Leanna shouted for everyone to hear, "Lock me up or hit me all you want! It won't change a thing—this marriage is dead!"

During the scuffle with the servants, her collar shifted just enough to reveal a fresh, dark constellation of hickeys blooming across her neck.

Carl's eyes flared a bright, angry red the moment the truth hit him. He didn't actually have any feelings for Leanna, but the thought of her being with another man was a massive blow to his ego.

"Who did this to you?" Carl demanded, his voice shaking as he struggled to keep his temper under control.

The idea of marrying a woman who had already given herself to someone else was completely unacceptable to him.

Leanna looked around at the stunned faces in the room and let out a soft, mocking laugh. "You went out and found someone else, so I just followed your lead. It's only fair that we're even now, right?"

A cold, sharp smirk played on her lips as she tilted her head. "Are you still so eager to make me your wife after hearing that?"

Carl's face twisted with pure rage as he barked back at her. "There's no way those marks are real! Who would even want you? No decent man would even glance in your direction—no one but me! Or did you just pull some random guy off the sidewalk to help you lie?"

Leanna threw her head back and laughed again, though her eyes remained as cold and empty as ice.

"I didn't settle for just anyone," she replied in a perfectly steady tone. "I spent the night with your uncle, Ian."

"My uncle?" Carl repeated, the words knocking the wind right out of him.

He lost his mind and lunged forward, raising his hand to strike her across the face. "Leanna, you pathetic, lying brat!"

A deep, smooth voice echoed from the entrance before his hand could make contact. "Did you just say his uncle?"

Wesley walked into the room with such a powerful presence that it felt like the air had been sucked out of the space.

He kept his eyes locked on Leanna, his expression impossible for anyone to figure out.

"His uncle," he said again, shifting his focus toward Carl for a brief second.

Carl's heart dropped into his stomach the moment he realized he was looking at Wesley Stewart.

The color drained from Carl's face as he scrambled to take back his words. "No, that's not true," he stammered.

One look from Wesley was all it took to make Carl shut his mouth and stop talking immediately.

The two servants holding Leanna were so scared of the man approaching them that they quickly backed away and let her go.

Wesley reached down to pull Leanna up and kept a firm, protective hand on her waist while he scanned the crowd.

"Can someone explain what's going on in this room?" he asked in a relaxed voice that still made everyone's skin crawl with fear.

Emilio stood there in a daze, trying to figure out why this stranger felt so familiar and dangerous at the same time.

Emilio noticed how terrified Carl looked and realized that this newcomer was someone the Wheeler family needed to treat with extreme respect.

"Those marks on my daughter... Did you do that?" Emilio asked, his voice low and heavy.

"Yeah, that was me," Wesley answered, not even flinching as he owned up to it.

Shock hit Leanna hard—she never thought he'd actually show up. All that gutsy energy she had gathered to show off the marks just evaporated into thin air.

Turning her head, she took him in—the man was tall, with sharp features and piercing eyes that made him look like he owned every room he walked into.

A sudden wave of panic washed over her anyway. She couldn't help it; her legs still trembled at the memory of the night before.

Her eyes then drifted back to Carl, who hadn't made a peep since "his uncle" walked in. Carl looked completely humbled, acting like a kid showing massive respect to "his uncle."

Relief and nerves tangled in Leanna's chest. She started to wonder if she'd accidentally messed with someone way out of her league.

Was this side of the Spencer family actually way more powerful than she'd guessed? Still, he was exactly the kind of big shot she needed on her side.

Wesley's gaze shifted to Carl, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "So, my dear 'nephew,' you got anything to say for yourself about this mess?"

Just the way he said "nephew" was enough to make Carl start shaking from head to toe.