Disaster struck like an uninvited rainstorm, heavy, noisy, and leaving a mess. Jenira never imagined her life would change just because of one small mistake: the wrong room and the wrong costume.
She was supposed to just stop by her sister's birthday party on the 11th floor of the Grand Valleria Hotel, a luxurious hotel the size of a castle and with too many hallways. But what happened?
She ended up lost in the 12th floor ballroom, wearing a long white satin and lace gown with an off-the-shoulder cut and a high thigh-high slit, a dress her sister had actually prepared for a surprise performance. But who would have thought the dress made her look like a real bride.
A giant crystal chandelier reflected light from the ceiling. The orchestral music slowly faded away. And a hundred pairs of eyes were now focused on her—the strange woman who had suddenly appeared in the main doorway, panting and with an awkward expression.
"She's here!" shouted a woman in a bright red dress, her voice shaking the room.
Jenira nearly vomited blood.
What did she mean she'd come? This wasn't my sister's party, was it?
Her eyes darted around, panicked. But before she could escape, someone stepped closer from the center of the room.
The man was tall, dressed in black from head to toe. He was cold, as if made of ice that had solidified over a thousand years. His eyes were pitch black, sharp, and powerful. His face was too perfect for the real world—Cassian Zyan Ludovic, the man whose photo often appeared on the business and scandal pages of gossip magazines.
His steps were steady. His gaze was piercing.
And before Jenira could say a word...
"You're late," the man muttered flatly.
Jenira blinked, her voice choked. "I-I—"
"No need to talk," he interrupted.
Then his large, cold, and strong hand grabbed Jenira's wrist forcefully. As if she belonged to him. As if this was destiny.
The cheers and applause grew louder. The lights shone on the small altar in the center of the room, and Cassian's steps continued to pull Jenira, who was almost stuttering, toward the center of the altar.
Before she could protest or run, the man...
Kissed her.
Gently at first. Just lips touching lips. But the next second—it wasn't an ordinary kiss. Cassian's lips moved demandingly, hot, as if igniting a flame that had been extinguished within Jenira.
Jenira's body froze. Her mind froze. But her body? Her body... refused to look away.
Damn.
The kiss ended with a long sigh. Cassian pulled her face away slowly and stared deeply into her eyes.
"You're mine now."
And everyone cheered. Champagne flowed and the music started again.
But Jenira's world seemed to stop.
She wasn't his bride. She was nothing. But now... she belonged to him?
.....
"You're mine now."
Those words still echoed in Jenira's head as the door to the presidential suite on the top floor of the luxury hotel slammed shut behind her. The world seemed to spin fast, and now she stood in a room that looked more like a private palace, with its golden chandeliers, classic Italian furnishings, and a magnificent bed with flowing white curtains.
Her body was still trembling.
Cassian stood in front of the window, gazing out at the night city with his hands in his pockets, coldly and firmly, not even glancing up.
"Take off her dress."
His voice was flat, like a command from a god too used to being obeyed. Jenira swallowed hard.
"What?"
He turned slowly, his eyes piercing.
"I don't like repeating myself."
Jenira's heart was beating wildly. There was fear. But more than that, there was something even more dangerous—attraction. Unfortunately, her body responded faster than her logic. Jenira's hands trembled as she unzipped the zipper on her back. The white satin dress slid down, falling around her feet, leaving her body clad only in sheer lace lingerie.
Cassian approached slowly, his steps steady, the sound of his shoes bouncing off the expensive marble floor. Each second felt long, Jenira's breath hitching.
"Good." His hand touched Jenira's chin, lifting her face. "You're even more beautiful than I imagined."
His fingers traced Jenira's jawline, down her neck, then to her shoulders. His touch was cool—but a fire burned beneath her skin. Cassian stared at her like he owned her completely, not just her body, but her soul.
"You think this was just an accident?" he whispered in Jenira's ear, his breath hot. "I knew who you were before you even walked into that room."
Jenira gasped. "What do you mean—"
Cassian's large hand silenced her words. His fingers touched her lips, lightly, exploring, then pushed slowly into her mouth. "Shut up, babe. Enjoy our first night."
Damn. That voice. That tone. Both seductive and brutal.
Cassian kissed Jenira again. This time, there was no politeness. His lips demanded, his tongue pushed in, tasting and exploring. Jenira's breath hitched, but her body melted in his embrace.
His hands slipped under her lingerie, exploring smooth skin no one had ever touched before. His fingers were hard, masculine, pressing against sensitive areas and making Jenira's body tremble uncontrollably.
He pushed Jenira onto the bed, wordlessly. His body dominated, pressing down on her, but with precision. Cassian knew what he was doing. He wasn't a gentle lover—he was a predator.
"You're mine tonight and forever," he murmured between moans, as he stripped off his clothes one by one, revealing a torso toned with hard, stone-carved muscles. Black tattoos adorned his back and sides, like dark secrets yet to be revealed.
"If you want to stop…" he said softly, stroking Jenira's lips with his thumb, "it's too late."
Then he took her into a world Jenira had never imagined—wild, hot, suffocating, but too delicious to resist. The sound of the bed creaking, heavy breathing, Cassian's frenzied grip on her skin, and his brutal yet steady movements, like a rhythm she had practiced for years.
Jenira's tiny screams filled the room, giving way to soft moans. Her hands gripped the sheets, her body arched, and her mind blurred by the sensations that struck her over and over again.
Cassian wasn't just touching her body. He was possessing her.
The night felt long for Jenira. They sank into an endless cycle of touches and moans. Their sweat mingled. Their breaths mingled.
And when Cassian finally pulled Jenira into his embrace, he whispered in her ear.
"I don't believe in love. But I believe in ownership. And you are now... mine."
The next morning…
Morning light filtered through the silk curtains. Jenira opened her eyes slowly. Her body ached, but what was heavier was her mind. Last night felt like a too-pleasant nightmare. She turned—Cassian was still there, shirtless, sleeping beside her with his arms around her waist like human handcuffs.
"I have to go," she muttered softly.
But just as she lifted herself, Cassian's deep voice rang out from behind her.
"One more step and you'll see who I really am."
Jenira paused.
"There's a contract you must sign. And one condition you can't refuse."
She turned, her heart nearly pounding.
Cassian looked her straight in the eye.
"Being a fake wife to a man like me… comes at a price higher than just your body."