Submit or Confess to My Billionaire Rival in the Truth Room

"Maeve, your legs are shaking like that... can't hold them together much longer?"

Julian Kingsley pinned me against the wall with one hand, his gray-blue gaze sliding down shamelessly, sweeping over my rigid legs.

I bit down hard, forcing back that damned tremor between my thighs. "None of your fucking business. Back off."

Just as he pressed his body down, closing in, a cold mechanical voice exploded in my head:

[Welcome to the Truth Room.]

[Now, please complete a session of deep penetrative intercourse with a heart rate exceeding 120 for over two hours, or, upon refusal, surrender secrets.]

I stared at this sworn enemy I'd been fighting for seven years—who I'd accidentally fucked two months ago—and my breathing tightened instantly.

Because my biggest secret was this: I was carrying his kid.

Just fifteen minutes earlier, I'd been in the bathroom of an upscale private clinic on Manhattan's Upper East Side.

These goddamn pregnancy hormones had left my lower abdomen constantly achy and burning.

To get through the pelvic exam waiting for me, I'd hidden in a stall and worked that cold silicone toy inside myself, trying to steal a moment of relief.

But the instant the vibration started, a blinding white light swallowed me whole.

When I opened my eyes again, I'd been dumped without warning into this bizarre white room with no doors or windows, crashing straight into a thoroughly pissed-off Julian.

The bastard was wearing a sharply tailored bespoke charcoal suit, his Patek Philippe catching the light with icy opulence on his wrist, looking like he'd been working a top-floor gala just seconds ago.

Meanwhile, I was wearing nothing but a flimsy paper examination gown that could expose me at any moment.

His gaze raked me from head to ankle without restraint, one eyebrow lifting in mockery:

"Maeve, that scrap of paper you're wearing just set a whole new record for ugly."

The relentless tremor inside me made me clench my thighs instinctively.

"Shut up, Julian." I fixed him with a cold stare. "I could streak naked and it wouldn't concern you. What the hell is this place?"

Julian completely ignored my question. He narrowed his eyes with predatory precision, his gaze locked onto my unnatural stance.

The next second, he closed in without warning, pinning me flat against the wall with one hand.

"Rather than worrying about where we are—" He leaned down with crushing pressure, those gray-blue eyes dropping shamelessly to scan my rigid legs with open interest.

"Maeve, your legs are shaking like that... can't hold them together much longer?"

I clenched my jaw, suppressing that damned tremor between my thighs, and sneered. "None of your fucking business. Back off."

Just as he pressed down completely, trapping me against the wall, a cold mechanical voice detonated in my skull:

[Welcome to the Truth Room.]

[Please complete one session of deep penetrative intercourse within this room, with heart rate exceeding 120 for a duration of over two hours, to release the lock.]

Confronted with this absurd mandatory rule, I laughed bitterly, half-convinced I was hallucinating. "What did you just say?!"

The system explained with zero inflection:

[Literal meaning. You may brace your hands against the wall facing away from him, or wrap your legs directly around his waist. Then he unfastens his zipper and slides his—]

"Holy shit! Shut up! I know what it means!" I screamed, cutting it off.

The white room plunged into dead silence, leaving only our ragged breathing.

Julian let out a low laugh, his scalding, shameless gaze dragging across my body without pretense.

"Keep your filthy thoughts to yourself." Every muscle in my body locked up in defiance. "You'd have better luck killing me than getting me to fuck you."

Detecting the intense resistance, the system coldly switched to a backup protocol:

[If intercourse is refused, alternative plan activated.]

[Both parties must exchange three of their most unspeakable secrets. Upon system verification of 'truth,' unlocking will proceed.]

That sounded marginally more reasonable.

I crossed my arms and sneered. "Just tell secrets? How do you determine truth? I could say I'm an alien."

The mechanical voice carried no emotion whatsoever, yet delivered a line that turned my blood to ice:

[This system is omniscient.]

[As proof, I can now disclose a secret known only to you.]

[Maeve, at this very moment, lodged deep inside your body, is a gray-blue silicone toy buzzing away on its highest setting.]