His Hidden Game

In the city’s neon haze, inside a private high-end club—

Julian leaned back against the sofa after hearing his assistant’s report. He rubbed at his temples and let out a frustrated sigh. “Bunch of sly f***in’ foxes…”

“What’s the plan now?” the assistant asked.

“This won’t get fixed overnight. Go on, get out.” Julian waved him off with another sigh.

Not even a few minutes after the assistant left, the door suddenly flew open.

Julian assumed he’d come back. “What now, did you forget someth—”

But instead of his assistant, a girl stumbled in. Her clothes were rumpled, her breathing ragged, hair a mess. She barely glanced his way before taking two shaky steps and collapsing straight into his arms.

Julian blinked down at her. “The hell… another stunt? Don’t play games, sweetheart. Get up.”

He gave her a light shake, fully expecting her to snap out of it. Too many women had tried all kinds of tricks to get into his room before. 

But this one didn’t move. Her lashes stayed still against flushed cheeks, the heat creeping down her neck. Damp strands clung to her forehead. She looked less like an actress and more like someone who’d drunk something she shouldn’t have.

Moments later, a group barged in after her. Leading them was an older man who jabbed a finger toward Julian’s arms, furious. “That’s her—bring her to me!”

Normally Julian would’ve tossed her aside and avoided the mess. He hated pointless drama. But tonight, for some reason, he didn’t feel like doing that.

He tightened his hold on the girl and lifted a hand to block the men. “Hey, hey—what’s the rush? You all storming in here like bandits for what?”

The old man pushed forward—and froze when he saw who it was. His pupils narrowed in shock. “Well, if it isn’t Ashford…”

Julian Ashford. The infamous rich heir. Notorious for his good looks, even more notorious for never sticking with the same woman twice. If it was Julian, then things might go differently.

“Well, well. Mr. Hill. Didn’t expect to see you here,” Julian drawled when he finally got a good look at the man.

Mr. Hill smirked, though his gaze kept wandering back to the unconscious girl. He licked his lips like he was starving. “Since we know each other, let’s not make this complicated. That girl’s mine. Hand her over.”

“Yours?” Julian’s brows lifted. At Hill’s age, he could’ve been her grandfather. His tone turned sharp, mocking. “How exactly do you prove that? She’s passed out, and you…”

The implication was clear: Hill’s methods were filthy.

“When’d you get so generous, huh?” Hill’s eyes narrowed. He noticed the way Julian was studying the girl’s face and didn’t like it one bit. “Don’t tell me… you’re interested in her too?”

A sly glint sparked in Julian’s eyes. “And if I said yeah?”

Hill sucked in a sharp breath, temper flaring, nearly stomping his foot. 

“DON’T push me! You’ve got women lined up for you, any woman you want—you don’t need to fight me for this one! I spent two hundred grand on her! Hand her over, or I’ll tell your family exactly what you’re pulling here!”

He lunged forward, desperate to snatch the prize before it slipped away.

Julian’s lips curled in a cold smirk. The threat only stoked his rebellious streak. “You think I’m scared of my family? Please. I’ve done plenty of shitty things already—one more won’t make a damn difference.”

Mr. Hill’s face turned beet red. “YOU… you little bastard! You dare play me? I’ll cut ties with your family right now!”

Julian snorted. “Go ahead. Not like I run the company. Whether you do business with them or not, that’s none of my damn concern. All I know is—she’s in my arms now. That makes her mine.”

“YOU little shit! I’ll teach you some damn respect!” Hill snapped his fingers for his men to rush forward—only to be blocked instantly by Julian’s bodyguards.

“Easy there, Hill,” Julian drawled, with a lazy grin. “You get too worked up, you’ll stroke out.”

Hill’s face went purple, his finger trembling so hard it looked like he might keel over on the spot.

“But hey,” Julian added, lips curling, “I’m not gonna send you home empty-handed.” He beckoned to his assistant, who tossed out a check. It smacked against Hill’s chest. “Two hundred grand? Pocket change. I’ll cover her tab. Now get lost.”

With that, he bent and swept the girl up in his arms. “Craig, show our guest out.”

The room erupted into shouts, scuffling, and the thud of fists—but it didn’t last long. Soon everything was quiet again. Only Julian and the girl remained.

And that’s when it hit him—tonight wasn’t all bad. Between the report Craig had just given him about family matters and this woman literally falling into his lap… maybe, she’d be useful.

Violet woke with a start, realizing she was in a bed she didn’t recognize.

Her skull pounded as fragments of last night slammed into her. She remembered her aunt and uncle saying they’d found her a great job through a “connection,” sending her to some upscale club.

She’d thought it would just be waitressing. But then… a sleazy old man had dragged her to his table and forced a drink on her.

The moment the alcohol hit, the world tilted. She knew instantly something was wrong. Fighting to stay conscious, she staggered away, and just before blacking out, she remembered pushing through a door and collapsing into into a warm embrace—one that smelled faintly of wood and spice, warm and disarmingly sensual.

The memory made her stomach twist. A cold shiver ran through her. She had no idea who that man had been.

And then a voice cut through the haze. “Awake? Good. We need to talk.”

Her head whipped around—and froze.

A man lounged on the sofa, legs crossed, watching her with a cocky half-smile. Dark brows, sharp jaw, messy waves of hair falling just right. His whole posture screamed laid-back arrogance.

Violet stiffened, clutching the blanket tighter.

Seeing she wasn’t moving, Julian stood and strolled toward her. “Relax. I’m not here to hurt you. I just wanna talk about how you plan to pay me back.”

“Pay you back? For what? I don’t owe you a damn thing!” Violet shrank into the corner, eyes wary, voice sharp.

Julian gave a helpless shrug. “Guess you forgot last night already. ” He briefly mentioned about what happened last night and then grabbed a file off the table and tossed it onto the bed. “Here. Two hundred grand. I checked—it was your aunt who pocketed it.”

Her mind went blank. The memory of that greasy old man grabbing her wrist flashed up, and her whole body shuddered. Could it really be… had her aunt sold her? No. Impossible. They’d raised her since her parents died. Family didn’t do that. Did they?

Her throat tightened. She glared at the man in front of her. “Why should I believe you? And ……I’ve got nothing to offer you.”

“Ask around. You’ll see I’m not lying.” Julian dropped onto the edge of the bed, eyes locked on hers, voice low and mocking. 

“Sweetheart, trust me—you’ve got plenty to offer. And you’re gonna repay me. All it takes is one… little… favor.”