(2) Scorching and Rough

Charity could faintly hear his movements. The bedside lamps clicked off, yet the room remained sufficiently illuminated for the intruder. Pale silver moonlight streamed through the window, bathing Charity's weakened figure in its glow.

She was dressed in crimson fabric that made her fair skin shimmer beneath the moonlight. The slit of her slim gown climbed high along her thigh, revealing her long porcelain legs. Its plunging neckline accentuated the alluring curve of her chest, rising and falling with every peaceful breath she took.

No one could possibly resist her.

Not even a man who believed he possessed remarkable self-control.

Gently, he brushed her silky hair away from her face. Her eyes remained closed, but her elegant brows were slightly furrowed. She looked troubled... or perhaps upset about something.

Regardless, the man found himself wondering just how far he could go.

Charity felt the same warm hand trace the edge of her gown, gliding from her shoulder down to her neckline. She sensed the faint touch lingering teasingly above her chest, yet it didn't stop there.

His fingertips slowly traveled from the valley of her cleavage to her flat stomach before stopping where the edge of her underwear lay beneath the fabric. His sharp gaze remained fixed on Charity, carefully observing every reaction.

"Samuel... is that you?" Charity asked weakly, unable to open her eyes as exhaustion overwhelmed her.

As the woman tried to sit up and get a better look at him, the man instinctively turned her over. It happened too quickly for Charity to resist. Her wrists were pinned firmly against the mattress beneath a single powerful hand.

Even the man hadn't expected them to end up so close.

His body completely covered hers. Her back rested against his chest, while her lower body pressed dangerously close to his own. Charity's sweet fragrance lingered around him, making it impossible to pull away.

"Honey..."

She whispered, mistaking him for her husband.

Charity was vaguely aware of their position. Even she felt unusually warm that night. The firm chest against her back felt comforting and secure, making her want to remain wrapped in his embrace. With the slightest shift of her hips, she felt the unmistakable tension in the man behind her.

As though his self-restraint had finally given way, the intruder abandoned the last of his hesitation.

One thing had become painfully obvious.

He wanted the woman in his arms.

"Hmm..."

Charity let out a soft rasp as a warm tongue brushed lightly against her neck, followed by gentle kisses that trailed to her bare shoulder.

She felt one strap of her gown slowly slipping from her shoulder while those lingering kisses continued to wander across her exposed skin. Her hazy eyes struggled to focus on her surroundings, but the growing warmth clouded her senses.

His hand slid along the smooth satin of her dress before firmly settling around her slender waist, holding her in place. Charity couldn't escape as the man's curiosity slowly gave way to something far more dangerous.

Her sweet fragrance.

Her soft skin.

The way her delicate body fit against his.

He couldn't get enough.

Little by little, the possessive hand at her waist drifted toward the slit of her gown while he continued pressing lingering kisses against her bare back. He felt his muscles tighten, his breathing grow heavier, and his rough hand slowly gathered the fabric of her skirt.

"Oh... honey..."

She bit her lip as her body gradually surrendered to the warmth surrounding her. Only she knew how flustered she had become.

Then, suddenly, the man behind her went completely still.

Summoning what little strength she had left, Charity slowly turned to face the man she believed was her husband.

It took nearly all of her remaining consciousness.

What she saw felt unreal.

A man stood with her beneath the moonlight.

Though his face was blurred by her fading awareness, one thing became unmistakably clear.

It wasn't Samuel.

"Caleb...?"

She murmured, recalling a name she hadn't spoken in years.

As her consciousness continued slipping away, she could barely make out the expression on the man's face. What lingered in her memory was his gaze—cold, dark, and unreadable.

Those familiar eyes flecked with gold had become the eyes of a complete stranger.

There was unmistakable animosity within them.

And something else...

Something she couldn't understand.

The celebration faded quietly with the arrival of dawn.

Sunlight filtered through the silk curtains, but it wasn't the morning light that filled Charity with warmth.

She hummed softly, instinctively snuggling closer to the comforting body beside her.

Unable to remember anything from the previous night, she naturally assumed the person beside her was Samuel.

"Sleep well?"

The deep voice was nothing like Samuel's.

It was calm.

Cold.

Almost mocking.

Charity's eyes flew open.

Her heart pounded violently as panic surged through her.

Shock didn't even begin to describe what she felt upon discovering another man lying beside her.

And not just any man.

He rested casually on one elbow, his head supported by one hand as he looked down at her. His short, dark hair had fallen into a stylish mess. A sharply defined jawline gave him an almost dangerously handsome appearance, while every feature of his face radiated quiet dominance.

Most unsettling of all were his deep amber eyes.

They studied her with merciless scrutiny.

His gaze alone made Charity feel helpless.

"C-Caleb?!"

Her eyes widened like those of a frightened rabbit as she uttered the forgotten name with a trembling voice.

As though a switch had been flipped, every trace of emotion vanished from the man's face.

His eyes darkened into an endless abyss, sending chills racing down her spine.

Yet the corners of his lips lifted into the faintest smirk.

"Who?"

His tone was indifferent.

Detached.

He didn't sound remotely interested in the answer.

"Caleb—"

Before Charity could finish speaking, she was pinned against the bed once more.

His powerful body loomed over hers.

She couldn't even struggle free against the overwhelming difference in strength.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly with panic.

This man radiated danger.

"You're talking about a dead man." He let out a quiet, calculating chuckle. Her horrified expression seemed to amuse him more than it should have. "Allow me to introduce myself properly."

He leaned closer.

"Remember this name."

"Lucas Cassian."

A Cassian?

No.

No, no, no...

She wanted nothing to do with a Cassian.

Had she mistaken him for someone else?

The Cassian family was infamous. No one in their right mind dared provoke them. Even crossing paths with one was enough to make people uneasy.

"I... I must have made some mistake." Charity hurriedly pulled the blanket around herself. "But why... why am I here?"

Although her gown remained intact, it was hopelessly disheveled.

The terrifying possibility struck her.

Had she spent the night in a Cassian's bed?

The thought alone filled her with dread.

"The fact remains..." Lucas said with a wicked smile, "...you're in my bed."

Judging by her expression, she'd finally realized the situation she was in.

"Were you after money?" he asked. "Fame?"

He watched with amusement as fear spread across her beautiful face.

"Let me go!"

Despite the terror pounding in her chest, Charity shoved both hands against his chest with all the strength she could muster.

Caught off guard, Lucas lost his balance just enough for her to break free.

She leaped off the bed like startled prey.

His brows drew together, and the intensity in his gaze deepened.

It felt as though knives were digging into her back.

No—

It felt as though she had barely escaped the jaws of a tiger.

Charity had no intention of speaking to him any longer.

She flung the door open and ran out barefoot, leaving behind her shoes... and the dangerous man still sitting on the bed.

What unsettled her most wasn't the possibility of her reputation being ruined.

It was Lucas Cassian's face.

He looked so much like someone she had long forgotten.

Caleb.

"Lucas, are you alright?"

Paige, the tall blond assistant, rushed into the room after arriving. Finding the door wide open, he had feared the worst.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw Lucas calmly sitting at the edge of the bed.

"I thought you were dead!"

He laughed in relief.

"You wish I were."

Lucas shot him a sharp glance before pulling a single red high heel from beneath the sheets.

"Pack this."

"Wait..." Paige caught the shoe before it hit him. "Don't tell me you spent the night with a woman?"

Lucas offered no response.

Paige raised an eyebrow.

"No? Yes? Your parents are already starting to question your sexuality."

"For God's sake!" Lucas snapped. "I slept with a woman, alright? Now shut up."

"It'll make your brothers' day when they hear this."

Paige's eyes sparkled with delight.

"She's married."

Lucas spoke while casually unbuttoning his shirt.

The red heel slipped from Paige's hand and landed on the floor.

"...She's what?!"