Chapter One: The Wrong Door

The sound hit me first, tearing right through me.

That familiar low groan Kyle made when he was close,the one he used to whisper against my neck like I was the only girl in the world. 

Now it was spilling out of him while he fucked some other girl on the bed very hard and fast while her legs wrapped tight around his waist like she belonged there.

I couldn’t breathe, 

My hand stayed frozen on the doorknob, the silk dress I’d picked for him suddenly feeling cheap and stupid against my skin. 

The girl’s moan cut through everything, high and needy, and Kyle didn’t even notice me at first, not until she gasped and froze underneath him.

“Kyle…. shit… ”

He jerked his head around, eyes wide. “Liana, baby, wait… this isn’t… fuck, let me explain …”

I didn’t scream, rather did I cry. I just closed the door quietly like shutting away the last good thing I thought I had. My bare feet carried me down the hallway, the marble cold and unforgiving under my soles. Everything inside my chest felt cracked open. 

Nineteen years old and still getting thrown away like I was nothing. 

Kyle had been my safe place for the past few months. He was the one person who made this whole mess—moving into a huge, unfamiliar mansion after Mom got married—feel a little easier to handle.

Now even that was gone.

Through my tears, the lights from the rooftop reception shimmered and blurred together.

I kept walking, not caring where I was going, the east wing was quieter, darker and private. My heart was beating so hard I could barely hear anything else.

The pain weighed heavily on me, spreading through my chest and stomach, combined with the champagne and the shame, it left me feeling like a stranger in my own skin.

I just wanted to hide or disappear for one damn minute.

My fingers found a door handle, then I pushed it open without thinking. Steam hit me first, warm, clean and masculine then I saw him.

Hermes Vitali.

Fresh out of the shower, towel hanging dangerously low on his hips, water still sliding down his broad back and shoulders. He turned slowly, and our eyes jammed together.

Oh God.

He was my mother’s husband now, forty-four. The kind of man who made the whole room feel smaller just by standing in it but right then, with his dark hair wet and his chest rising and falling, he looked raw, real and dangerous.

I should’ve said sorry, backed out or even run like hell.

But my feet couldn’t move, my eyes dropped before I could stop them tracing the water dripping over his chest down the hard lines of his stomach, disappearing under that towel. 

Heat rushed up my neck, across my cheeks, straight down between my legs. My nipples tightened against the thin silk, obvious and embarrassing.

“Kyle had broken my heart in ways I hadn't thought possible, yet beneath the pain, something in me still felt alive."

Hermes didn’t cover up, he was just staring at me, jaw tight and one hand curled into a fist at his side like he was fighting not to step closer. 

His eyes moved over me slowly, my flushed face, my trembling lips, the way my dress clung to my body. Something dark flickered in his eyes.

“You’re not supposed to be here, Liana,” he said, voice low and rough. It wrapped around my name like a secret.

“I… I thought this was the guest room,” 

I whispered, my voice came out shaky and small, I could still hear Kyle’s sounds echoing in my head. I could still feel how easily he replaced me and now this man, this forbidden man who was looking at me like he saw every broken, needy piece.

My heart felt so strong,I could feel it in my throat,my wrists, and everywhere in between,where an aching warmth was building whether I wanted it or not.

Hermes took one step toward me and then another,he didn't touch me,he was just close enough that I could smell his skin, warm and clean. 

Close enough to see the way his chest expanded with a slow breath, like he was trying to stay in control.

“You’ve been hurt tonight,” he murmured,it wasn't a question,it was just the fact.

 Tears slipped down my cheek,I hadn't even realized I was crying.

 “I should go.” I whispered but my feet didn't move either.

And he didn’t tell me to leave.

His eyes dropped to my mouth, then lower, lingering on my breasts, and the way I was breathing too fast. 

When they came back up, the control in them looked cracked,like he was barely holding on.

“Go back to your room, princess.” The word princess felt soft, possessive and wrong at the same time.

My thighs pressed together on their own, trying to ease the growing throb.

This was insane,he was married to my mom, older and completely off-limits,but my body didn’t care.It wanted and ached, and wondered what those big hands would feel like.

The moment stretched, heavy and quiet, like neither of us knew how to break it, it was just us there, breathing the same tense air. 

His hand twitched at his side, so small I almost missed it… like he was stopping himself from reaching for me.

Then Mom’s laugh floated down the hall light and clearly fake, the way it always was.

It pulled me right out of the moment.

I stumbled backward, heart hammering so hard I thought it might break through my ribs,I turned and ran, feet slapping against the cool marble, all the way back to my own room. 

When I shut the door behind me, I slid down to the floor, knees up to my chest, trying to catch my breath.

My skin was on fire while shame burned hot in my stomach, but underneath was something else,something hungry, new and terrifying.

My phone kept buzzing on the bed,it was Kyle,I ignored it.

But I couldn’t ignore the way my mind kept replaying Hermes’s eyes on me, the way my name sounded in his mouth and how my body had answered him without permission.

This was bad,really, really bad.

And part of me, the lonely, hurting part that had been starving for years didn’t want to run from it at all.