[Dylan: She'll arrive in five minutes. As requested,-black outfit, brown hair worn loose. Enjoy your night.]

The man barely glanced at the message on his phone.

In a dimly lit corner of Pamalove Bar, Josh Miller slowly turned the crystal tumbler in his hand, watching the golden liquid swirl lazily. The glass held a third of The Macallan Fine & Rare 1926-one of the rarest and most expensive whiskies in the world. Just the way he liked it. Its aroma, a subtle blend of aged oak and dried fruit, rose gently into the air, mingling with the soft jazz melodies floating through the room.

He took a slow sip, letting the warmth of the whisky glide down his throat. It didn't just burn-it harmonized with the night, as though syncing his senses with the secrets that always lingered after dark. His sharp eyes scanned the room, searching. For what-or for whom-he wasn't entirely sure.

In a place like this, where neon lights tangled with the scent of designer perfumes and the hum of laughter, Josh looked like he belonged. His cream-colored suit hugged his frame to perfection, and a Patek Philippe watch glinted subtly on his wrist. He was the kind of man who looked like he had it all-or at the very least, knew how to fake it flawlessly.

But beneath the smooth exterior, his thoughts drifted elsewhere. The drink, the music, even his presence here-it was all just a distraction. A temporary smokescreen for the emptiness he carried.

If it weren't for his brother, he wouldn't be anywhere near this country, let alone in the heart of Seoul.

Then, his eyes caught her.

A woman, seated at the far end of the bar. Her black outfit hugged her figure with quiet elegance, while her dark brown hair fell freely around her shoulders, partly veiling a face that tried-but failed-to mask the storm behind her eyes. One handheld an empty martini glass, the other propped up her chin.

A faint smile touched Josh's lips. "Dylan's choices never disappoint," he murmured before making his way toward her.

Meanwhile, Ivy pushed her glass forward again, her voice low but firm. "One more, please."

The bartender let out a slow sigh. "You've had enough, miss."

Ivy offered a crooked grin. "And what makes you think this counts as drunk?"

Her face rested lazily on her right hand as she fixed her sparkling eyes on the bartender without blinking. "Just one last glass. Then I swear I'll call it a night."

The bartender chuckled. "You really are trouble."

Still, he refilled her glass without hesitation. "Enjoy your next Martini."

"Hello."

A scent.

Not your typical cologne-nothing sharp or overbearing. It was smooth. Deep. A subtle harmony of warm sandalwood, a trace of spice, and the clean finish of citrus. It wasn't just a smell-it was a signature. The kind that lingered, that made you want to lean in closer, to figure out the man behind it.

Ivy turned without thinking. Her eyes met his-The man who had just spoken now stood beside her. Her lips parted slightly, words catching on the edge of her tongue. But before she could say anything, that scent had already made an impression, stirring a curiosity she couldn't quite suppress.

The man gave a slight, confident nod, his smile understated but disarming.

"May I sit?"

His voice was deep, as smooth and captivating as the fragrance that still lingered in the air between them.

"Oh, go ahead. I don't mind," Ivy replied politely. Her head was beginning to spin, but good manners had to be maintained-no matter what.

"What fun is there in drinking a Martini alone?" Josh asked with a light chuckle, swirling his glass again, deliberately catching the attention of the woman Dylan had arranged to keep him company.

Oddly enough, she hadn't jumped at the opportunity to flirt or engage-not the usual behavior. Still, Josh wasn't bothered. A bit of conversation over a drink before ending up in bed didn't sound like a bad way to spend the night.

"Truthfully, I wasn't looking for company," Ivy said, offering a faint smile. "But the bar's got a nice, quiet vibe tonight. So... being alone doesn't feel so bad."

"People who drink alone usually have something they're trying to forget," Josh remarked, shifting his seat so he was facing her more directly.

Ivy said nothing, just smiled again and took another sip of her Martini.

"I wouldn't mind if you shared a little," he added gently.

"Are you always this talkative? Even with strangers?" Ivy quipped, the corner of her lips curling into a smirk. Then she downed the rest of her drink in one go.

"Bartender, like I said-this is the last one." She pulled a few bills from her purse and handed them over.

The bartender gave her a worried look. "Shall I call you a taxi?"

"No need," Ivy declined with a small smile.

What she really needed was some fresh air before heading to Luna's place. The pounding in her head was worsening, but maybe-just maybe-that pain would dull the sting of the disappointment she'd just been dealt.

Unfortunately... that plan never came to life.

As Ivy turned, she stumbled, her foot catching on a nearby stool. She would have crashed to the floor if not for Josh, who caught her just in time.

"You really should watch your step," he said smoothly. In one fluid motion, he pulled her into his arms.

She barely reached his chest. When their eyes met, she had to tilt her head back to look at him.

"Care to have a little fun?" Josh offered, his tone teasing. "I guarantee it'll chase that dizziness right out of you."

Ivy narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Don't look at me like that," Josh laughed. "Come on, wouldn't want to waste it without some fun, right?"

***

"Ugh!"

The only things Ivy could remember were the Martinis, the deafening music that somehow felt exhilarating... and-

"Oh God!"

She yanked the blanket off her body. Her eyes darted down, panic rising fast.

"This... this can't be right!"

She was completely naked. Not a single stitch of clothing on her body. A faint red mark on her inner thigh-another on her breast.

"What the hell did I do last night?!" She raked both hands through her hair in frustration.

When she turned her head, she saw him. The man with black hair was fast asleep next to her, looking as though he hadn't had a care in the world. Ivy rubbed her temples, trying to soothe the growing tension in her head. Memories, fragmented and blurry, began to piece themselves together.

Dancing.

Her body pressed close to his as the music pounded through the club.Vodka-how many glasses had she downed between dances? Then the hotel room.

She'd teased him-provoked him on purpose. She remembered peeling her clothes off with a laugh, the way she'd gasped at his touch, the heated rhythm of their bodies tangled on the bed.

"Damn, your body is incredible," she'd murmured, running her hand along his bare chest. Her fingers had traced the hard lines of muscle carved by regular workouts.

"Can I touch you as much as I want?"

He'd grinned wide.

"Should I take off my pants too? Let you touch everything?"

Ivy had giggled, her eyes fluttering shut against the dizziness. "God, my head's still spinning. And it's so hot."

"Need help getting out of those clothes?" Josh had offered with a wicked smirk, eyes gleaming with amusement as Ivy, straddling him, continued her playful provocation.

"No," Ivy murmured, shaking her head. Her fingers began to undo the buttons on her shirt one by one. "It's only fair you get to enjoy my chest too. Even if it's not that impressive."

Josh chuckled. "Not impressive? How could it not be?"

He shifted his position slightly, just enough to bring his mouth to her breast. "I've been wanting to do this," he whispered, then softly ran his tongue over her nipple.

A breathy moan escaped Ivy's lips, sensual and unrestrained. Her back arched instinctively in response to the warm flick of his tongue.

She tilted her head back, eyes fluttering shut, lost in the tingling sensation spreading across her chest.

"Don't end the night too soon, beautiful. You're with me on that, right?"

Josh's tongue trailed upward, licking a slow path along the curve of her neck. "What do you say?"

"Do whatever you want," Ivy replied, her voice low and inviting.

***

"Oh God! What the hell did I do last night?!" Ivy shouted, no longer able to contain the panic rising in her chest.

Fragments of their conversation-their bodies tangled together, the way she offered herself so freely-came crashing back into her mind like a flood.

"Shit!"

Just then, the shrill ring of an unfamiliar phone shattered the silence, making her jump. Ivy scrambled, eyes darting around for the source.

The sound stirred the man beside her, who had still been peacefully asleep until now.

"Damn it," he grumbled, running a hand through his messy black hair.

He reached for his phone, which was buzzing inside the pocket of his blazer tossed on a nearby chair. Still groggy, and clearly unaware of his own nakedness-or of the woman sitting just beside him-he answered the call.

"If this isn't important, you better have a damn good reason for waking me up!"

...

Ivy remained seated at the edge of the bed, but her eyes never left him-watching his every move, her heart hammering in her chest.

And when he finally turned to face her, locking eyes with hers, all Ivy wanted in that moment... was to disappear.

"I-I'm sorry, Sir-"

"So... you're not an escort?" he interrupted, his tone flat, unreadable.

His hair was tousled, but the careless dishevelment did nothing to hide how stunning he was.

Ivy's jaw dropped at his words. "What did you just say?"

"I won't let this slide," Ivy muttered under her breath, striding purposefully through the front yard of her house.

"Why am I the one being thrown out?"

Her fists clenched tightly at her sides, the memory of that night-the night she caught her husband in bed with another woman-flashing back with cruel clarity, reigniting the fury inside her.

"Why was I so stupid to love him?" she grumbled, not slowing her pace. From the moment she met Rico back in high school, Ivy had fallen for him. Not just for his charming smile that always made her feel special, but for the way he treated her-as if the world belonged to just the two of them.

Her love had blossomed over time, deepening into something fierce and unwavering.

They had gone through everything together-graduation, the start of their careers, and finally, standing side by side at the altar. Ivy had believed, with all her heart, that Rico was her destiny. The man who would be there through thick and thin.

She gave their marriage her all-her heart, her time, even the dreams she'd once kept for herself.

But reality turned out to be far more brutal than any love story she had imagined.

Everything shattered the night she walked into their bedroom and saw him... with her.

Her breath had caught in her throat at the sight of their bodies entangled under the dim light. There was no shame on Rico's face. If anything, he looked like he was enjoying it. As if that betrayal wasn't enough, he had the audacity to serve her with divorce papers the next day.

The betrayal tore Ivy's heart into pieces. The pain in her chest was so sharp, so suffocating, she couldn't even put it into words.

As she reached the front door, Ivy suddenly heard voices coming from inside-cheerful, happy voices. Laughing. Teasing.

"I'll make sure this house never ends up in Ivy's hands."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. Her hand had already reached the doorknob, but she froze.

It was Rico's voice. Calm. Carefree.

"This place is yours, right?" the woman-Clara, Ivy recognized her voice-asked sweetly.

The same woman Ivy had found in bed with her husband.

"So make sure it doesn't go to your ex-wife."

"Relax, babe. That's not going to happen," Rico replied smoothly.

More laughter. More flirtatious banter. The sound of it made Ivy's stomach churn. Disgust turned into resolve. She gripped the doorknob and twisted it open without knocking.

The door was unlocked.

Of course it was. Maybe Rico had left it that way on purpose, hoping she'd catch them again, wrapped up in each other like some kind of sick joke.

"Well, looks like your ex-wife is here," Clara announced, flashing a smug smile.

Ivy's chest heaved. Part of her wanted to scream that the divorce papers hadn't even made it to court yet-that, legally, they were still married. But Clara clearly had no problem playing the role of the victor, already claiming Ivy's place like it was hers to begin with.

But Ivy was done begging for Rico's love.

He had thrown her away like she was nothing. He had made it clear she wasn't enough for him. So what was the point of fighting for him now?

She was here for one thing only-to settle the matter of the house. And this house? It wasn't his to keep.

He was the one who should be leaving. Not her.

After three days of isolating herself, Ivy had done her homework. She'd dug through every detail of Rico's life-the things he kept hidden, including his affair with Clara. The woman, it turned out, was the daughter of Rico's area manager. And it was her father's support that had gotten Rico his promotion.

How did she find all that out?

Simple. Luna.

Her best friend had proven herself once again. Luna had done the digging, and what she uncovered only made Ivy feel more humiliated-like she'd been a fool right down to the bone.

"Make him beg for forgiveness, Ivy!" Luna had snapped with fire in her eyes. "Don't you dare let him win. Don't let him keep stomping on your pride."

Luna had cursed Rico so many times, Ivy had lost count. If he had been standing in front of her, Luna might have slapped him across the face without hesitation.

"I can't believe I gave him all that love... and this is how he repaid me," Ivy had said, her voice hollow.

"That's why you never love anyone too much, Ivy. I've warned you before, but you never listened," Luna had sighed in frustration. "Let him go. Divorce him. You deserve happiness. One day, some man will love you more than the world itself-more than the universe, deeper than the damn ocean."

"Since when did you get so poetic?" Ivy had laughed softly. "Thank you... for being here."

And now here she was-standing in the living room, face to face with Rico.

She ignored the pretty woman clinging to his side, her presence like a cheap perfume in the air.

"You signed the divorce papers, right?" Rico asked casually, like they were just discussing the weather.

Without saying much, Ivy pulled the papers out of her bag and flung them without hesitation straight into Rico's face. He just laughed mockingly.

"It's funny, isn't it? Getting served divorce papers while your husband is on top of another woman," Ivy said calmly.

Clara laughed shamelessly. "You should be asking yourself why your husband turned away," she said, deliberately draping herself on Rico with exaggerated affection.

Ivy rolled her eyes in disgust. The nausea and revulsion swirling inside her only grew heavier. With biting sarcasm, she asked, "You love this woman, Rico?"

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow but smiled widely. "You're asking questions you don't need to ask, Ivy. Or do you want to hear something painful? Like that I don't love you anymore?"

Ivy chuckled darkly. "Ah, you fell in love with her," she nodded briefly. "But I don't think you fell for this cheap woman. You just fell too deep-into your own lust and ego."

"What did you say?" Clara snapped, anger flashing in her eyes.

"Calm down, darling," Rico interrupted, knowing better than to let Clara ruin their plans. He wouldn't let that happen. "I don't care what she says, babe. Besides, soon enough, we won't have to deal with her anymore, right?"

Clara stared at Rico with tightly suppressed irritation. "Shameless woman," she spat out.

"It's obvious Rico won't stay with you, yet you still cling to hope?"

Ivy gave a thin, confident smile. "Not at all," she replied firmly. "And don't worry-I'm not going to seek revenge. The world has its own way of making you regret this."

"You're just talking nonsense, Ivy."

Rico tore open the documents and his smile widened even more. He was already growing annoyed with everything Ivy said. "One more thing-pack your things. I'm moving into this house with my future wife."

Ivy's hands clenched so tight her knuckles turned white. "You should know, Rico, I paid for most of this house," she shot back, her anger boiling over. She hadn't expected him to behave like this.

"If you forgot," Rico sneered, "this house is in my name. You can't use your name for the paperwork, can you?"

His grin turned sly.

"So... before I get rough, you'd better clear out your stuff."

Clara's mocking laughter rang through the room like cruel bells. Ivy's fists were clenched so tightly it hurt, her breath heavy and ragged.

Her eyes flashed sharp daggers as she shifted her gaze between Rico and Clara. She was overwhelmed by a storm of emotions.

"I'm not going anywhere," Ivy said, each word a firm punch. "This is my home. I bought it with my hard-earned money."

Rico scoffed, clearly dismissive. "You? Bought it?" He stood right in front of her.

"You're not amnesic, right? My money went into this house too. And I'll say it again-this house is in my name. You have no right to it, Ivy."

"You'd better get out of this house," Clara finally spoke up. "Or do you want me to bring the cops to kick you out?"

***

"Hello."

A low voice, light and teasing, cut through the tension. A sudden scent of cologne hit Ivy's nose, making her look up. Not far from her, a man she'd recently come to know smiled faintly. Ivy was slowly getting used to the scent of his cologne.

"Have you finished your business?"

When Ivy had come by the house a little while ago, she wasn't alone-this man was with her.

"Just now," Ivy replied, struggling to maneuver two large suitcases.

"Is that all you're bringing?"

"I think so," Ivy answered, uncertain.

"Hmm..." The man eyed her with an amused smile. "Are you sad about losing your husband?"

"Damn it!" Ivy snapped, frustrated. "I just want my house back."

The man nodded in understanding.

"Come on, I don't want to stay here long. Let's get this over with." Ivy reluctantly dragged her suitcases along.

The man laughed out loud. "You're really impatient." Without waiting, he grabbed Ivy's two suitcases. "I promised I'd help, remember?"

Ivy shot him a sharp glare as he walked beside her. There was no struggle for him to lift what she had been carrying.

"Don't look at me like I'm your enemy, Ivy," Josh said, still grinning. "I'm your strongest ally, you know."

Ivy said nothing.

"You haven't forgotten our deal, right?"

Ivy hadn't forgotten the deal between them. It had only been three days, but how could she forget a single detail? Especially when that conversation happened right after what they'd done all night at the hotel.

Ugh. Ivy had always prided herself on never regretting her decisions. But that night... that night left her with a thousand questions and a crushing weight on her shoulders. She should've known better than to fall for a stranger's tempting invitation to "have a little fun," right?

"I think you've got the wrong idea," Ivy said calmly. "I'm not a call girl."

Josh chuckled softly, running a rough hand through his hair.

"Wow. I honestly have no idea how to respond to this... whatever this is," he said, blue eyes scanning his own naked form-and then looking at the equally bare woman in front of him.

They had stripped each other down to absolutely nothing. As Josh's gaze roamed, he noticed faint red marks still scattered across Ivy's skin-his handiwork, without a doubt.

Did we really get so drunk last night that we didn't know what we were doing?

No.

Josh wasn't drunk. He remembered everything. Too clearly.

He was just lost-in every move she made. Whatever spell Ivy had cast, he had been completely consumed by it. Once wasn't enough. Nor was twice. They had explored every inch of that hotel room like it was a world of its own, fueled by raw hunger and reckless desire.

"Shit," Josh muttered, rubbing his face. "What time is it?" He needed to pull himself together.

"Eleven a.m.," Ivy replied, trying to sound unfazed.

"I think we both need a minute to breathe." Her voice was steady, even if her heartbeat wasn't. "Mind if I use the bathroom first? I need to get dressed."

"Go ahead."

Ivy gathered her clothes-scattered like confetti across the floor-and hurried into the bathroom. God, this is humiliating. She took a moment to breathe, then splashed cold water on her face and washed herself off. Once she felt somewhat composed, she stepped out, doing her best to mask the awkwardness gnawing at her.

Josh was already waiting on the sofa, dressed in nothing but a hotel bathrobe. His clothes were still on the floor, like he had no plans to put them back on anytime soon.

"I ordered coffee and toast," he said casually. "Hope you don't mind having breakfast while we talk about... last night."

Ivy gave a faint smile. "No, that's fine."

She sat across from him. "How about we-"

"How much would you like as an apology?" Josh cut her off smoothly. "Just name the price. Whatever it takes to make sure we never have to see each other again."

Ivy blinked, stunned into silence. "I'm sorry, what?"

"We both know last night was about having fun."

He wasn't wrong. Ivy couldn't deny it-last night was unforgettable. After so long without being touched like that-with such hunger, teasing, wild passion, and no time even to catch her breath-it had broken down her walls. Completely.

"But I'm not about to deal with a stranger coming to me later, asking me to take responsibility."

She stared at him, still processing.

"Pregnancy, for example," Josh added with a pointed cough, as if the memory hit him too-the way they'd done it last night. No protection.

At that, Ivy laughed. "Oh my God, that's what you're worried about?"

This man. This impossibly handsome man-no wonder people adored him, threw themselves at him just to get a second of his attention. But none of them realized what a complete bastard he really was.

He discarded women like used napkins. Never mind their feelings-as long as he got his pleasure, that was enough.

Damn it, Ivy thought bitterly. Why did I have to get involved with a man like this?

"You don't have to worry-I'm not asking you to take responsibility for last night. In fact, I came here to apologize. But sadly, I see now just how little I'm worth in your eyes."

Ivy let out a slow sigh and rose from her seat.

"I think we've said enough. Besides, we never even exchanged names, did we?"

For the first time in a long while, Joshua Miller was at a complete loss for words. He stared, unblinking, at the woman in front of him. How could she reject his offer so outright-without hesitation, without even the usual fake protests he was used to hearing from women after a night together?

This never happened. That's why he preferred dealing with escorts-clean, simple, no drama after the fun was over.

Dylan's going to pay for this mistake, Josh swore to himself.

And yet... last night had been spectacular. This woman-whoever she was-matched his every move, met every desire without flinching. Her touch, soft and melting like marshmallow, had set his skin on fire. Was she that experienced, or did she just instinctively know how to bring a man to his knees?

Josh didn't know. And that unsettled him.

"Just name it. Tell me what you want," Josh said, crossing his arms, unwilling to let her slip away so easily.

He wasn't about to be manipulated by flowery words. Surely she had an angle. Women always did. They played the long game-acted indifferent, only to ask for something more when they thought the moment was right.

"This kind of opportunity doesn't come often, does it? I could make your wish come true in an instant."

Once again, Ivy laughed. "What, did I just sleep with the genie from Aladdin's lamp?"

Josh couldn't help but chuckle. "Sure, let's go with that. Don't tell me you don't know who I am?"

"I don't care who you are, sir."

"Ouch," he said, placing a hand over his chest with theatrical flair. "Alright, fine. Let's pretend I am the genie. So tell me-what's your wish? Let's end this conversation today."

"Why are you so insistent?"

That question caught Josh off guard. She was right-why was he pushing this so hard? It wasn't like him. And yet... he didn't want to stop.

"Just say it. Really-I can make it happen."

Ivy sighed deeply. "If you insist..."

Josh straightened, ready. He figured she'd ask for money-probably a generous amount. Enough to buy a car, go on a shopping spree, whatever. That was fine. For Josh, money was never an issue.

But what Ivy said next caught him completely off guard.

"Help me get revenge on the man who betrayed me-my husband. He cheated on me. Can you do that?"

For a moment, Josh was stunned into silence. And then-

"Ah, sorry. That was ridiculous of me to say," Ivy laughed lightly. "Forget I said anything. Goodbye-and like you said, let's hope we never meet again."

"Wait-hold on," Josh stammered, reaching out and grabbing her hand. The firm grip startled her.

"I'm not done talking."

Ivy looked at him in disbelief. Wasn't the conversation over? Why was he suddenly changing the direction again?

"What if we made a little deal?"

Her brows knit together. "What do you mean?"

"I'll help you get your revenge-but in return, you'll have to treat me the same way you did last night."

Ivy stared at him, completely thrown off.

"The same way as last night?" she echoed, her brows knitting together. Then the realization hit.

"You mean... you want me to pay you back with my body? To sleep with you?"

Josh nodded, utterly unapologetic.

"Oh, hell no!" Ivy snapped, yanking her hand from his grip. "I don't appreciate being treated like I'm some cheap trade-off, sir. Thanks for the offer, but I'm not interested."

In a matter of seconds, Josh's ego took a serious blow.

He wasn't used to being turned down. Ever. Everything he wanted had always come easily. But this woman-this stranger-was a whole different story. Still, Josh wasn't the type to give up so easily. He felt a strange pull, an urge to break through her defenses.

"I'll send you the full details of my medical status," he said suddenly, a rare hint of vulnerability lacing his voice. He looked uncomfortable, like he wasn't used to sharing personal information.

Ivy should've just walked away. She knew that. But something about his tone stopped her cold.

"You're... sick?" she asked cautiously.

"What does that have to do with what we did last night?"

Josh chuckled, low and a bit bitter.

"Everything." He patted the empty space on the sofa next to him, silently inviting her to sit.

After a moment of hesitation and a wary glance, Ivy complied, settling beside him.

"It's been a long time since I've had good sex," Josh admitted, his voice low. "No one's ever matched my pace the way you did. Do you know what it feels like to have sex and still walk away unsatisfied? I'm a grown man with very real needs, Ivy."

Unbelievable. Ivy nearly rolled her eyes. If shameless had a face, it was sitting right next to her. He was really talking about this-out loud-with a straight face. Unsatisfied? Was he for real?

"It's been a struggle," Josh continued. "Not being able to fulfill those basic needs-it messes with everything. So, how about this: you become my sex partner as payment. Fair trade, right?"

Ivy looked at him, long and hard. She said nothing at first, just studied his face. Handsome. Frustratingly so. The kind of man who could easily be used as a weapon in the right scheme. A man like that could be the perfect tool for revenge. He didn't seem like he came from money either-probably just some restaurant employee.

But the real question was: Could he be trusted?

"How long would this arrangement last?" she asked at last. If you're already ankle-deep in the mud, what's the harm in diving in all the way?

Josh smiled, sensing victory. "Until your revenge is complete. So... are you agree with me?"