Ella Rosales's POV:

I returned to the apartment, and the silence felt heavier than usual.

My eyes involuntarily fell on a garment bag hanging in the closet. Inside, my wedding dress was carefully preserved.

I had bought it a year ago, a simple yet elegant ivory gown.

The dress was custom-made and non-refundable.

I unzipped the bag, took the dress out, and laid it on the bed.

I grabbed a pair of scissors from the drawer and started cutting. First the delicate straps, then the bodice, the lace, and the flowing skirt.

I only packed a few personal items—my laptop, passport, and a small duffel of clothes.

Everything else—the furniture, the art, and all the expensive gifts Holden had given me over the years—I left behind. I didn't want to leave any lingering attachments.

The note I left was brief, simply stating he could do whatever he wanted with the apartment and everything in it. It was all his.

I booked a red-eye flight to Los Angeles.

My best friend, Carly Koch, had moved there after getting married a year ago. She was my rock, my fiercely loyal and brutally honest confidante. I needed her.

Ella Rosales's POV:

Carly and I spent our days in LA exploring the city, revisiting our favorite college haunts.

Carly insisted on throwing a party.

That night, the atmosphere was relaxed and easy, filled with chatter and the occasional clinking of glasses.

Halfway through the party, a stranger walked in. A wave of surprised whispers instantly rippled through the room.

"Ethan Maddox? Wow, I can't believe he actually came!"

"I haven't seen him at one of these things in forever," someone else said. "A rare sighting indeed."

Tall and radiating undeniable charm, Ethan just offered a faint smile. "Carly cornered me and said I absolutely had to make an appearance." He scanned the room, and his eyes briefly met mine across the crowded space. A flicker of something I couldn't read crossed his gaze.

Carly nudged me gently, whispering in my ear, "What do you think? He's a total catch, right? A self-made billionaire, a tech mogul, and ridiculously handsome."

I was a little tipsy, the alcohol loosening me up significantly.

I vaguely remembered Ethan from our Stanford days; he was a brilliant computer science major. He had always been quiet and focused, but undeniably very handsome.

Now, years later, he exuded a grounded and powerful aura. He possessed everything Holden lacked—steadiness, intelligence, and a quiet confidence that didn't need to be loud to be convincing.

"He... is handsome," I admitted, a slight flush creeping up my neck. "But we haven't kept in touch in a long time."

Carly grinned, a sly glint in her eyes. "He never accepts my party invitations, but today I told him you were going to be here."

I looked at Ethan in confusion, only to accidentally lock eyes with him. He offered a warm, gentle smile.

Carly whispered to me, "He's here for you, Ella."

She walked over to Ethan, wearing a somewhat conspiratorial look on her face. "Ethan, Ella is staying with me right now, but I've had a bit too much to drink. Could you walk her to my guest house? It's just down the street, a few minutes away."

My eyes widened, and I stared at Carly in shock. She knew perfectly well I had flown in from New York and would be staying with her indefinitely. The "guest house down the street" was a very convenient lie.

Yet, Ethan didn't miss a beat. He simply smiled. "Of course, Carly. I'd be happy to."

"Thank you, thank you!" Carly said excitedly, pulling me in for a quick hug.

She whispered in my ear, "Girl, you need to open your eyes. You deserve someone so much better than Holden. Ethan is solid, reliable, and he's had a quiet crush on you for years."

I mumbled back, "Nonsense, how would you even know?"

Carly winked. "Girl, the way he looks at you, it's like you're the only woman in the room. If Holden can screw around, why can't you go after true love?"

"Ella, sleeping with only one man for seven years is a terrible deal." Carly nudged me toward Ethan.

Ella Rosales's POV:

Ethan pulled his car up to the front of the hotel.

I started to unbuckle my seatbelt.

"Thank you for the ride, Ethan," I said, my voice coming out softer than I intended. The alcohol had definitely lowered my defenses.

"No problem, Ella," he replied, his voice calm and deep. He made no move to get out of the car; he just looked at me.

I opened the door, ready to step out.

Right then, a thought flashed through my mind—Holden's dismissive words. A spark of rebellion, fueled by the booze and my bruised ego, suddenly surged within me.

I turned back and asked him, "Do you want to come up for a drink?" Before I could even stop myself, the words were out, surprising even me.

A slow smile spread across his face, and genuine warmth filled his eyes. He killed the engine, and the car fell instantly silent.

The elevator ride up to the room was short, but it felt like it took a century.

As the doors slowly closed, he turned to face me, his gaze burning into mine.

Then, without a word, he leaned in and kissed me. It was a firm, commanding kiss that stole my breath. My mind went blank.

An intense, unexpected wave of desire washed over me, hot and dizzying.

He deepened the kiss, one hand gently cupping the back of my neck. I felt like the oxygen was being sucked out of my lungs.

I pulled back slightly. "Ethan," I breathed heavily, "the security cameras." I weakly pointed to the corner of the elevator ceiling.

My cheeks were burning, a deep flush spreading rapidly. My legs felt like lead, ready to give out at any moment. I had to wrap my arms tightly around his waist just to stay standing.

He glanced at the camera, a wicked smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He expertly shifted his body, cleverly blocking the camera's view, and pulled me back into a searing kiss.

This time, I kissed him back.

When the elevator doors opened, he broke the kiss, his eyes filled with raw desire. He quickly swiped the keycard, and the hotel door clicked open. He stepped inside, pulling me in with him.

Just as he was about to kick the door shut, he paused, his eyes locked onto mine.

"Are you sure about this, Ella?" he asked in a low, husky whisper. "Are you going to regret it?"

My mind was hazy, the wine and his intoxicating scent making me feel lethargic.

"Regret what?" I asked softly, pulling him closer. "You've already kissed my lips swollen, don't you think it's a little late to ask if I'll regret it?"

He let out a low chuckle, a rich, satisfied sound. His thumb gently brushed across my lower lip.

I pulled him closer, my body pressing flush against his. He kissed me again, his lips greedy and urgent.

We stumbled through the entryway, not even making it to the bedroom. My back hit the cold wall, his hands began to roam over my body, and my dress rustled softly.

"Oh," I moaned softly, gripping his arms tightly. "Ethan, slow down."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice thick with gravel. "I just... I've wanted you for so long, I couldn't help it."