007: Fuck it.

~~~Rhea~~~

Sunlight stabbed straight into my eyes like a goddamn knife. I groaned, squeezing them shut again, but it was too late. My whole body felt like it had been hit by a truck. Every muscle screamed as I pushed myself up on shaky elbows. A sharp, deep throb pulsed between my legs, raw and tender, like I’d been fucked within an inch of my life.

Because I had.

I blinked slowly, trying to make sense of the room. My ivory engagement dress lay crumpled on the floor like a discarded tissue. My panties were dangling off the edge of a chair across the room. One heel was halfway under the bed. I was completely naked, sheets twisted around my waist, and the ache between my thighs only got worse when I shifted.

What's all this?

Wait. Wait.

Memories of last night rushed into my head all at once.

The engagement. The dark room. Logan’s blackout. My hands in his hair. His mouth on me. His fingers. His cock. The way he’d growled “my little moon” while he fucked me raw on these same sheets.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I gasped, hands flying up to cover my mouth.

What the hell had I done?

Rhea what did you fucking do?

Last night was supposed to be my engagement party. To Sebastian. His godson. And instead I let Logan Draegor—cold, ruthless, terrifying Logan Draegor—destroy me in the best and worst way possible. I let him come inside me. Multiple times. I begged for it.

My stomach twisted so hard I thought I might throw up. I ran both hands through my messy hair, tugging roughly at the roots until it hurt. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” The words kept spilling out, shaky and broken. How the hell was I supposed to explain this? My family was probably losing their minds right now looking for me. Sebastian… God, Sebastian. What was I going to tell him? That I spent the night getting railed by his godfather instead of celebrating our engagement?

Tears burned at the corners of my eyes. My life is fucked up.

I glanced to the side of the bed, half expecting to see Logan’s massive frame still sleeping there, but the spot was empty.

Where is he?

My eyes scanned the room hoping to see his figure but there was no sign of him. There's no sound of running water in the bathroom which means he's not in the bathroom. No shadow moving behind the frosted glass.

He was gone.

My heart started pounding so fast it felt like it was trying to punch its way out of my chest. I pressed a hand over it, breathing hard through my nose. That bastard. He used me, took what he wanted, and just… left? Like I was some random hookup he could discard in the morning?

Tears continued spilling over, chest boiling with rage. I swiped at them roughly, jaw clenched so tight it ached. Of course he left. He was Logan fucking Draegor. Cold-hearted billionaire. I was just a mistake. A weak, stupid mistake who couldn’t keep her legs closed on her own engagement night.

I was about to swing my legs off the bed when something caught my eye — a small white note folded neatly on the bedside lamp. My fingers trembled as I snatched it up, unfolding it fast.

The handwriting was bold, sharp, and unmistakably his.

☆☆☆☆☆☆

Little moon,

Had to leave before sunrise. Urgent matter at the empire that couldn’t wait. You were sleeping so peacefully, and I didn’t have the heart to wake my pretty sleeping beauty.

I told my right-hand man to send over a dress for you. Wear it and head home. Don’t fool yourself into thinking last night was a one-time mistake. You’re mine. You’ve always been mine. That ring you got yesterday doesn’t change shit. You no longer belong to Sebastian, but to me alone. I’ll be seeing you very soon.

Be good for me until then, my Little Moon.

Your Logan.

☆☆☆☆☆☆

Fury exploded through my veins like wildfire. I crumpled the paper into a tight ball and hurled it across the room. It bounced off the wall and landed pathetically on the floor.

“Who the fuck does this Asshole think he is?” I hissed through gritted teeth, voice cracking with rage. Little moon. Little moon. Little moon. Why the hell did he keep calling me that? It sounded so possessive, so intimate, like he had some secret claim on me I didn’t remember signing up for. It made my skin heat and my chest tighten at the same time.

I shook my head hard. No. Snap the fuck out of it, Rhea. You need to get home. Now.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

My heart spiked so violently I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Shit!”

I scrambled off the bed, legs wobbling, and started snatching up my scattered clothes like a madwoman. Dress. Panties. One heel. The other. I shoved everything into a messy bundle in my arms and dove back onto the bed, yanking the duvet up to my chin to cover my naked body.

“Who’s there?!” I yelled, voice higher and shakier than I wanted it to sound.

The door clicked open. A man in his late forties stepped in, sharp suit, silver at his temples, expression blank and professional. Right behind him was a younger woman carrying a sleek black garment bag. The man kept his head bowed slightly, eyes fixed on the floor like he didn’t dare look at me wrapped in nothing but a duvet.

“Miss Rhea,” he called calmly. “I’m Cyrus Langford, Mr. Draegor’s right-hand man. He instructed me to personally deliver a dress for you this morning. He mentioned you might need something clean to head home in.”

Ooh. He's the so-called Assistant or right hand man. Whatever. I didn’t say a word. My throat felt too tight to speak. I just stared at them, cheeks burning with humiliation.

The young woman quietly placed the garment bag on the chair near the door. Neither of them lingered. Cyrus gave another small bow and they both backed out, closing the door softly behind them.

The second they were gone, a sharp hiss left my mouth. “And who the fuck told him I need his dress?” I muttered angrily. I was fully prepared to shove myself back into my engagement gown and walk out of here with my head high.

I pushed the duvet off, snatched my crumpled dress from the floor, and started to step into it. That’s when the scent hit me — rich, woody, expensive. Logan’s cologne. All over the fabric. Strong. Masculine. Unmistakable.

Irritation flashed across my face. “Are you kidding me?”

If I walked back into my house smelling like this, everyone would know. My parents. Sebastian. Addie. No way in hell could I explain why I smelled like Logan Draegor’s cologne on the morning after my engagement party.

No. No no no.

My eyes flicked over to the sleek black bag the woman had left. I closed my eyes tight, jaw clenched, letting out a frustrated growl.

“Don't tell me I'd have to put on that shitty dress.” But I'm already late. “Fuck it. No other choice.”

I grabbed the bag and stormed into the bathroom.

Now the real problem is how the hell was I going to explain any of this to Sebastian and my parents.