Chapter 1: She Knocked on the Wrong Door

“Keren No.18, Room 1.”

At the moment the message was sent, Eranthe did not immediately put down her phone. Her thumb remained on the screen, as if confirming something, or as if waiting for some irreversible result.

She knew very clearly what she was doing.

Just forty-five minutes earlier, she had been standing outside that not-fully-closed door, watching everything inside.

That man, Dylan, her boyfriend of more than two years, was leaning lazily against the sofa, while another woman’s leg was slowly and suggestively moving along his body.

They made no attempt to hide it, and even carried a kind of composure that suggested they would not be discovered.

At that moment, her emotions did not explode.

Instead, there was an extreme calm.

Calm enough for her to turn and leave, press the elevator button, and even see her unusually composed face reflected in the mirror.

Then, she made this decision.

When the doorbell rang, she had already changed into the “gift” she had originally prepared for Dylan.

The soft fabric clung to her skin, almost offering no real coverage, and the robe was only loosely tied around her waist.

She took a deep breath and opened the door.

In the next second, the world suddenly lost balance.

The man’s hand, carrying an irresistible force, clasped the back of her neck and pulled her toward him. The moment their lips touched, her breath was completely taken away.

That was not a test.

Nor was it gentle.

It was a kind of aggressive possession.

Her back slammed against the wall by the door, the cold touch making her briefly clear-headed, only to be swallowed again by the heat that followed.

His scent was too close.

Not like perfume, and not like alcohol.

It was something deeper and heavier, like a forest after rain, carrying dampness and danger, even faintly making her heartbeat lose rhythm.

She finally saw his face clearly.

Colin Rodriguez.

That face, always calm, restrained, and almost perfect in every occasion, now carried an emotion she had never seen before.

His gaze was deep.

So deep that it seemed he was suppressing something.

Or rather, restraining it.

“You can still regret it now.”

His voice was close to her lips, low like a slowly tightening net.

Eranthe did not speak.

She simply raised her hand, grabbed his collar, and then leaned toward him on her own initiative.

That action was almost instinctive.

Anger, humiliation, revenge, and even a bit of impulse she was unwilling to admit, all mixed together in that instant and turned into an out-of-control response.

His reaction was even more direct.

As if something that had been ignited had finally found an outlet.

His hand slid along her waist, the temperature of his palm unusually hot. When his fingers tightened, her whole body was almost completely controlled in his arms.

She could clearly feel the distance between them being compressed bit by bit, their breathing intertwining, their presence entangling, every approach carrying an irresistible aggression.

She should have stepped back.

But she did not.

Instead, when he moved closer, she slightly lifted her head and met his rhythm.

He grabbed her hips, lifted her up, pressing her fully against him, their bodies fitting tightly and moving against each other, forcing a soft, enchanting gasp from her.

Colin smiled with satisfaction.

But that feeling, for Eranthe, was far more dangerous than she had expected.

It was as if she was being dragged little by little into deep water.

Clearly aware that she was about to drown, yet no longer able to swim back to the surface.

Suddenly, footsteps sounded outside.

The elevator made a “ding.”

Dylan stood at the door.

What he saw was her pressed against the wall.

Colin’s figure almost completely covered her, his hand firmly controlling her movements, while her breathing was disordered and her eyes unfocused.

Colin did not truly turn back.

He only tilted his head slightly and looked toward the door.

The corner of his lips curved slightly.

That smile was cold and arrogant, carrying undisguised provocation.

In the next second, the door was kicked shut hard.

The world was completely cut off.

The night slowly deepened.

Eranthe only remembered those fragmented sensations.

The overwhelming pressure when he approached, the subtle tremor when his fingers brushed across her skin, and the presence of his breath falling near her ear that could not be ignored.

None of his movements were hurried, yet they carried strong control.

As if he was testing her limits little by little.

And she did not refuse.

At some moments, she even moved closer to him.

That feeling was not only physical attraction.

It was more like a deeper, instinctive pull, as if he had some kind of power that made her unable to resist.

At dawn.

The room became quiet.

When she woke up, the space beside her was already empty.

There was still a faint lingering scent of indulgent desire in the air.

She sat up and stayed in a daze for a long time.

She should have regretted it, but she did not.

She only vaguely realized that once this had begun, it seemed impossible to end it.

The bathroom door opened before her eyes, and steam spread out.

Colin walked out.

He stood there, looking at her, without speaking.

But in that instant, she instinctively tensed her body.

That feeling appeared again.

Intangible, yet oppressive.

She could not explain it.

She only felt that it was dangerous.

“Mr. Rodriguez,” she said, her voice hoarse.

He let out a soft laugh and slowly walked closer.

His steps were not fast, yet impossible to ignore.

“Are you sure you want to end it here?”

When he said this, his tone was calm.

Yet it carried a subtle sense of danger.

The light was turned off by him.

Darkness fell again.

Before she could say her refusal, she was pulled back into his arms.

Their skin pressed together, heat surged through her body again, dragging her once more into a state of confusion and desire.

His voice was close to her ear, low and restrained. “I’m not used to stopping halfway.”

At that moment, she suddenly realized that what she had done might not be just an impulsive decision.

But rather stepping into a relationship that would not be easy to walk away from.