Seducing My Ex Lover's Son (SPG)

Ang simoy ng hangin sa Azure Private Resort ay amoy mamahaling champagne at alat ng dagat. It was the kind of scent that screamed wealth, power, and privilege.

Lysandra Albrecht sat elegantly on the velvet-cushioned chair of the resort’s most exclusive balcony. She looked breathtaking in her emerald silk slip dress na hapit sa bawat kurba ng kaniyang katawan. Her long, dark hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, and her lips were painted a provocative shade of crimson.

She was waiting for Garrick. Her lover. Her "protector" for the last two years.

Sa gitna ng mesa, may isang maliit na velvet box. Bahagya itong nakabukas, revealing a 5-carat diamond ring that caught the golden rays of the setting sun. My heart hammered against my ribs. Is ito na ba 'yon? After being his "secret" for so long, gagawin na ba akong legal ni Garrick Hawthorne?

"Ma'am, your wine," bulong ng waiter, but I barely heard him.

Naka-focus ang tingin ko sa kabilang side ng resort, sa Garden Restaurant kung saan sinabi ni Garrick na may "brief meeting" lang siya bago kami mag-dinner. From my high vantage point, I could see everything.

And then, my world didn't just crumble—it disintegrated.

I saw him. Garrick. He was standing near a fountain, looking regal in his charcoal suit. But he wasn't alone. Holding his hand was Elena Hawthorne—his legal wife. Ang babaeng sabi niya ay "obligasyon" na lang niya.

Garrick leaned in. Hindi ito basta-bastang halik sa pisngi. It was a deep, lingering, and passionate kiss na tanging sa taong mahal mo lang ibinibigay. He looked at her with eyes full of devotion—the same look he gave me last night in bed.

Nanginginig ang kamay ko habang hinawakan ko ang wine glass. The realization hit me like a physical blow to the stomach. The diamond ring on the table... it wasn't for me. I saw Garrick pull out an identical box from his pocket and slide a ring onto Elena’s finger.

The ring on my table was a leftovers. Isang consolation prize. O baka nakalimutan lang niya dahil sa sobrang pagmamadali niyang puntahan ang asawa niya.

"You're pathetic, Lysandra," I whispered to myself. My voice was cold, devoid of the warmth I had just minutes ago.

I didn't cry. Tears were for the weak, and I had been weak for Garrick Hawthorne for too long. Instead, a dark, viscous feeling of revenge began to boil in my veins. Kung sisirain niya ang puso ko, susunugin ko ang kaniyang buong mundo.

I stood up, ignoring the wine, and grabbed my designer clutch. I didn't need a diamond ring. I needed a weapon.

I spent the next two hours in my suite, my fingers flying across my laptop. I wasn't just a pretty face; I was an Albrecht. My family's fall from grace taught me how to dig for dirt.

And then, I found him. The ultimate leverage.

Dixon Hawthorne.

Ang nag-iisang tagapagmana ng Hawthorne Empire. Twenty-two years old. Currently staying at the same resort’s penthouse suite to celebrate his return from London. Ayon sa mga report, he was the "Wild Son." Scorched-earth policy ang dala nito saan man magpunta. He was reckless, brilliant, and according to the leaked photos—absolutely lethal to look at.

I looked at his photo. Sharp jawline, eyes as cold as a winter storm in the Atlantic, and a physique that looked like it was carved out of granite. He had his father's power, but none of his father's fake morality.

He was the beast I needed.

I walked towards the Penthouse floor, my heels clicking against the marble floor like a death knell. I didn't knock. I had the "accidental" key card I swiped from the concierge.

The suite was dim, scented with expensive bourbon and sandalwood. The only light came from the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean.

"I don't remember ordering room service with a dress that short," a deep, gravelly voice echoed from the shadows.

My breath hitched. Dixon was sitting on a leather armchair, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He was shirtless, wearing only low-slung black trousers. My eyes involuntarily traced the ridges of his six-pack abs—they were even more defined in person, shimmering slightly under the dim light. He looked primal. Seductive.

"I'm not room service, Dixon," I said, my voice steady despite the electricity humming in the air.

Dixon stood up, and I realized how tall he truly was. He moved with the grace of a predator. Huminto siya ilang pulgada lang ang layo sa akin. The heat radiating from his skin was insane. Amoy lalaki siya—yung amoy na nakaka-in heat, nakakahilo, at nakakaakit.

"I know who you are," Dixon purred, leaning down so his lips were inches from my ear. His hot breath sent shivers down my spine. "You're my father's little pet. Lysandra, right?"

I tilted my head back, meeting his icy gaze. "I was. Tonight, I'm his worst nightmare. And I want you to be the one to deliver it."

I pulled out a thick envelope from my clutch and pressed it against his bare, hard chest. I could feel his heart thudding steadily against my knuckles.

"May contract sa loob. Fifty million pesos. For one month, you will be mine. Magpapanggap tayong magkasintahan. I want your father to see us. I want him to watch as his son takes the only thing he actually cares about."

Dixon let out a low, dark chuckle that vibrated through my hand. He grabbed my wrist, his grip like iron but surprisingly sensual. He pulled me closer until our bodies were flushed together. I could feel every hard muscle of his chest pressing against my breasts.

"Fifty million?" Dixon whispered, his eyes dark with a sudden, unhinged hunger. "I have billions, Lysandra. I don't need your money."

"Then what do you want?" I challenged, my heart racing.

Dixon’s hand traveled down my back, gripping my waist and pulling me so tight I could feel his growing arousal against my thigh. It was a bold, wild move that made my legs feel like jelly.

"I want the fine print changed," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous octave. "No kissing in public? Fine. But behind closed doors..."

He leaned in, his nose grazing mine. "I don't do 'fake' intimacy. If I'm going to ruin my father, I'm going to enjoy every single inch of the woman he's losing. I want you to sign the rule that when we’re alone, you’re mine to use, to touch, and to break."

My breath caught in my throat. This wasn't a business deal. This was a deal with the devil.

"Do we have a deal, Lysandra?" he asked, his thumb tracing the curve of my lower lip, pulling it down slightly.

I looked into his wild, seductive eyes and saw the chaos I wanted to unleash. I reached for the pen in my bag, my hand trembling slightly—not from fear, but from the sheer, raw electricity he was radiating.

I signed the paper against his chest.

Dixon smirked, a predatory, satisfied look. He took the pen from my hand and tossed it aside. Without warning, he lifted me up, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He slammed me gently but firmly against the wall, his face burying in my neck.

"First rule of the Hawthorne house, Lysandra..." he groaned, his teeth grazing my skin. "Never invite a beast into your bed if you aren't ready to be devoured."

Habang nasa bisig ni Dixon si Lysandra, biglang bumukas ang pinto ng suite. Standing there, breathless and pale, was Garrick Hawthorne.

"Lysandra? Dixon? What the hell is going on here?!"