Chapter 1

　　Elena's POV

　　I approached the heavy mahogany door of his suite. Taking a steadying breath, I pushed the door open.

　　The suite was icy, smelling of expensive cologne. No lights were on, only the faint glow from outside the window spilling into the room. I spotted his silhouette on the couch.

　　"Happy birthday, Charles," I stuttered, happy to find him awake.

　　The atmosphere in the room thickened instantly, heavy with a tension I could feel on my skin.

　　He surged to his feet and crossed the room in three predatory strides. Before I could even gasp, his hand clamped around the back of my neck.

　　Charles didn't say a word. He just crushed his lips against mine in a kiss so forceful it made my head spin.

　　My knees buckled.

　　Charles was never this rough. This was a man starved.

　　I reached for his shoulders to stay upright but something felt…off.

　　I brushed the thought aside, blamed it on the adrenaline, and kissed him back with everything I had.

　　Charles growled into my mouth, a low, animalistic sound that vibrated through my chest and shot to my wet core.

　　With a low growl, he hoisted me up, and I instinctively curled my legs around his narrow waist. His mouth left mine to trail hot, wet kisses down the column of my throat, sending sparks of electricity straight to my core.

　　I loved this unrestrained version of him. As his tongue slid back into my mouth, I caught a sharp, intoxicating whiff of expensive whiskey.

　　That explains it, I thought.

　　Charles peeled the trench coat from me.

　　The bra was barely there, the sheer material straining against my nipples, which had already peaked into hard pebbles from the chill and the friction of his touch.

　　I heard an ecstatic, guttural grunt of approval as he felt the gauze lingerie; a gossamer-thin, red set that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. It was provocative, bordering on scandalous.

　　I wanted to ask if he liked it, but he didn't give me the chance. He descended on my breast, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh through the thin fabric.

　　I guess he liked it.

　　My eyes were tightly secured with my silk neck scarf, shocking me.When did Charles become so… adventurous?

　　He worked his way down my body with a hunger that bordered on worship. In less than a minute, his tongue sent me crashing over the edge. I sobbed for air, my fingers tangling in his fine hair.

　　Before I could recover, he kicked off his sweatpants.

　　He moved between my legs and thrust into me in one smooth, devastating motion. There was no pause for the protection he was always so adamant about.

　　A small, rational part of my brain tried to scream that this was wrong, that Charles never did it without a condom, but the rest of me was on fire.

　　The feeling of his naked chest sliding against mine, the sound of his beast-like grunts in my ear, the way he filled me so completely.

　　Suddenly, he gripped my thighs and stood up, lifting me with him.

　　He didn't pull out. He kept me pinned to him, his pace never faltering as he began to move toward the bed.

　　But we didn't reach the mattress.

　　Charles stopped and then I felt a cool, smooth surface against my back.

　　The full-length mirror.

　　Our movement triggered the motion-sensor lights.

　　Even through the silk scarf, I could tell the room had exploded into brightness.

　　I was lost in the rhythm of him, my back pressed against the cold glass as he fucked me right there, standing up.

　　When the final wave hit us, I gripped his neck and cried out his name. He swallowed my cries with a punishing kiss.

　　Slowly, the heat began to mellow. The kiss turned tender.

　　I felt my legs tire and started to slide down from his waist to find my footing on the floor.

　　As I moved, the silk scarf caught on his forehead and slipped off.

　　I blinked against the harsh light and looked into the mirror.

　　I had planned every detail; the lingerie, the midnight timing, the element of surprise. All of it for Charles, on his birthday.

　　What Charles had just done to me wasn't part of the plan. I couldn't help but blush as I twisted my thighs, leaning back into the hard wall of muscle behind me.

　　I looked up, and instead of Charles's soft blue eyes, I was met with a pair of obsidian depths that looked at me with a mixture of dark amusement and lingering heat.

　　Raven-black hair, sharp, aristocratic features, and a jawline that could cut glass.

　　It was Lorenzo Carver.

　　Charles' half-brother.

　　The man I had helped Charles pick up from the airport two weeks ago. The man who had spent the entire car ride looking at me like I was something he'd found on the bottom of his shoe.

　　Dread and shame coiled in my belly. My lips began to quiver as the reality of what I'd just done…what he had just done to me, hit me like a freight train.

　　"You…" I whispered, the word catching in my throat.

　　I had just been thoroughly, completely ruined by the one man Charles wasn't very fond of.

　　Lorenzo didn't look remorseful. He didn't even look surprised. He just stood there, completely naked and unashamed, watching the color drain from my face.

　　"You're a monster," I choked out. "You knew. You knew I thought you were him!"

　　I thrashed in his grip until I managed to shove myself away from him.

　　My feet hit the carpet, and I scrambled back, my skin crawling. I whirled around and slapped him across the face with every ounce of strength I had left.

　　My palm stung, the force of the blow vibrating up my arm. Lorenzo's head snapped to the side, but he didn't even flinch. He just slowly turned back to me, a dark, mocking smirk playing on his lips.

　　"You hit like a bitch, Lena," he said. His voice was a flat, bored drawl.

　　"Why?" I whispered. "How could you do this? You knew I was his girlfriend!"

　　Lorenzo stepped toward me. "Not my fault you can't tell the difference between your boyfriend and a real man in the dark. If anyone is to blame here, it's you. A girl who can't recognize the man she loves? Shameful."

　　He stepped closer and looked at my exposed breasts. I crossed my arms over my chest in a futile attempt to hide.

　　"And let's be honest," he dropped his voice to a dangerous whisper, "when I was buried deep inside you, you didn't want to let me go."

　　The audacity snapped something inside me. I whirled around and slapped him again, harder.

　　His head jerked. He rubbed his reddened cheek.

　　I didn't wait for a reaction. I lunged for my trench coat and buttoned it with trembling fingers. I stumbled toward the door, but a sharp knock sounded from the other side.

　　"Enzo? Open up."

　　My blood turned to ice.

　　It was Charles.

　　"I know you're in there, and I know you're not alone," Charles continued. His voice was tight with irritation. "I told you to keep your flings out of my suite. Get her out of there before I have security do it for you."