Chapter 3

Roseline pov

"Take off your clothes!" he ordered the moment we entered the suite.

My eyes flew open. "What?"

"You forgot? Your shirt’s stained," he said with a grin, his eyes lingering on my chest.

My face flushed instantly. I had misunderstood him, but I couldn’t deny the tiny flicker of disappointment inside me. What was I even hoping for? I bit my lip, ears burning.

"I’ll get you a shirt," he said in a low voice, his tall frame turning toward the wardrobe with an unspoken dominance.

Face still burning, I looked down at the glaring stain. My fingers trembled as I fumbled with the buttons. The shirt slipped off my shoulders, revealing the black lace lingerie I’d carefully chosen—tight, sensual, with a teasing edge.

(Rose, who were you dressing for tonight?)

A sharp pain twisted in my chest. I forced myself to forget the humiliation. No more grieving. Tonight ends here.

Lost in thought, I forgot to cover myself—until I felt it.

That scorching, penetrating gaze.

I followed the heat of his stare down, and realized I was standing there in nothing but my black lace underwear. The air around us turned still and thick. I swallowed hard and snatched the shirt from his hand, turning away and yanking it over my head in a rush.

Only when his burning eyes were out of sight did a sliver of sanity return. I had to remember—I was here to change, not to sell myself.

"I should go." My voice trembled.

He didn’t respond. But just as my hand gripped the doorknob, his deep voice sounded behind me.

"Looks like tonight’s been rough on you."

My spine tensed again.

"If you want to talk, I’ve got no other plans," he said casually.

My hand hesitated on the knob. I knew that if I turned it, tonight would end right here.

But Isaac’s betrayal surged back into my mind.

I let go of the door.

He sat relaxed on the wide leather couch, legs crossed. When he saw me turn, a smile tugged at his lips. He tapped the seat beside him with his square-cut jaw tilted slightly.

"Pretty sure the couch doesn’t bite. You can sit down."

I sat, though the future might be a free fall. The couch was soft, but my back stayed stiff. My fingers rubbed nervously against the rim of my glass.

I looked up and finally spoke. "There’s nothing to talk about... I don’t want to waste another second tonight on that garbage."

"Smart. Then let’s change the topic," he said, nodding. His sharp gaze dropped to my tightly clenched hands. "What are you most curious about right now?"

What was this—foreplay?

"You," I said boldly, locking eyes with his deep, dark stare.

I saw his whiskey-colored pupils contract sharply, darkening with intensity. He picked up his glass again, the muscles in his forearm rippling with quiet power. He set the glass down, and in the silence that followed, only the clink of glass against wood and the pounding of my heart remained.

His gaze ran over me with such intent that I felt like a stripper he’d just paid for.

"Nice opener," he said, his voice thick with temptation. "You may ask your first question."

"Was I your target tonight?" I asked, swallowing hard.

"Yes," he said, unapologetically.

Now it was my turn to panic. I clutched my glass like a lifeline. "What do you want me to do?"

He leaned in close, voice low and rough. "First," he said, his lips grazing my ear,

"Remember my name."

He pulled back slightly, letting his gaze glide slowly over my face.

"Adrian Foster."

The air froze for a second.

Foster?

The Foster Group that controls hundreds of billions?

My jaw nearly hit the floor.

"You know who I am?" he asked.

I nodded.

This man was the unofficial king of every Top Bachelor list in the country.

Legend had it that no woman ever got a second night with him.

His face was even more famous than his fortune.

I stared at him.

I’d thought I understood how handsome he was. But now, with him right in front of me, the perfect magazine silhouette had been replaced by something raw, alive, and devastating.

Up close, his sharp features were even more aggressive—those deep eyes, the straight nose, the tight lips—he radiated a violent kind of masculinity, like walking testosterone.

I swallowed hard. The sting of Isaac’s betrayal surged back with a vengeance.If I slept with Adrian… even for just one night… it would shatter that bastard’s ego into dust.An orphan, lying beneath the city’s most untouchable billionaire.

Oh God, just the thought of it made my face flush instantly. Suddenly, Adrian’s scorching lips crashed against mine. In that very moment, it felt like a bolt of electricity shot straight down my spine and ignited a fire between my thighs. It was a kiss unlike anything I’d ever experienced—possessive, consuming, so raw it stole the breath from my lungs. God, I liked it. My mind spiraled, painting images I couldn’t stop—him pinning me against the table, turning my face to the side, his hand pushing my skirt up around my waist as he—

"Your face tells me you need this," he murmured as the kiss broke—possessive, deep, and demanding.

I didn’t answer.

Instead, I bit his lip harder, with defiance.

"What I need," I whispered with a smile, "is more than just that."

"Good, rabbit," Adrian growled with desire. "We have all night to give you what you need."

The next second, his arm swept wide—

And the shirt I’d just put on tore apart in one clean motion. Buttons scattered across the floor.

His defined chest muscles flexed with every movement.

He leaned in—then, unbelievably, used his teeth to undo the clasp of my bra.

His lips, blazing hot, trailed fire from my neck to my stomach.

His hands clamped down on my inner thighs like branding irons—

Then a sharp, shrill alarm rang.

My emergency alert.

"Stop—" I gasped, snapped back to reality. My voice trembled with lingering lust. "I have to go—"

He frowned. "Don’t joke. You know exactly what you’re doing."

"I’m sorry," I said, struggling to sit up, hands shaking as I re-clasped my bra.

"I believe… you have better options than me."

As I turned to flee, humiliated and half-dressed, he grabbed my arm again—like a steel trap.

I turned, furious—

But before I could speak, he pulled a wad of cash from his wallet.

"Listen. Since you know who I am, you should know my rules. I don’t want to see the same woman in my suite twice."

I slapped the money out of his hand.

Arrogant prick. He thought every woman wanted him for his money.

"Go rot in hell with your money!" I spat.

I grabbed one of Adrian’s shirts and threw it on.

Damn him—his scent clung to the fabric, warm and woody. It wrapped around me like a second skin, sending uncontrollable shivers through me again.

I hated his arrogance.

But I couldn’t walk out onto the street naked in the middle of the night.

Otherwise, by morning, I’d probably be found naked in a storm drain.

Only after I collapsed into the back of a taxi did my breathing begin to steady.

I immediately returned Patricia’s missed call from the orphanage.

The moment it connected, her anxious voice burst into my ear.

"Rose! Your brother, Brian… he’s been diagnosed with a heart condition! It’s serious—"

What?!

Brian!

Aside from Isaac and Grandpa Jones, he was the only person I had left.

I couldn’t let anything happen to him. I’d do anything for him.

"I’ll be right there!" My voice went taut like a drawn bow. I slammed the door shut.

"To the hospital. Hurry!"