Chapter 1

Aria's POV

I stood in the dimly lit corridor of the Manhattan five-star hotel, my hands slightly trembling as they gripped the handle of the room service cart. The weight of the silver tray on top felt heavier than it should, laden with a bottle of expensive red wine and two crystal glasses that caught the soft overhead lights. My borrowed hotel uniform was a size too large, but I'd managed to make it work with a few safety pins and determination.

Room 1507. This was it—the presidential suite where Devon Kane was staying.

I took a deep breath and tried to steady my racing heart. The morning's events flashed through my mind once more: the unknown number that had texted me, the photo that appeared on my screen, and the sickening feeling that washed over me when I saw my boyfriend Ethan tangled in sheets with my step-sister Scarlett. Both naked. Both looking all too comfortable together.

"Breathe, Aria," I whispered to myself. "Just breathe."

It hadn't been my first betrayal from Ethan Blake. How many times had I chased after him? The heir to the Blake Fashion Group had been my obsession for longer than I cared to admit. I'd pursued him through college, convinced myself that his constant appearances at bars and clubs with other women meant nothing. That his dismissive attitude toward me in public was just his way of maintaining privacy.

A memory surfaced—sharp and painful. Last summer at his family's beach house. I'd excused myself to use the bathroom during a party and was walking back when I heard Ethan's voice, tinged with laughter, floating from around the corner.

"You don't get it, man," he'd said, the smugness in his tone unmistakable. "Even if she's as gorgeous as Aria Harper, she still has to chase after me."

The laughter that followed from his friends had burned into my memory. I'd frozen in place, my champagne glass nearly slipping from my fingers, before quietly retreating to the bathroom to compose myself.

Yet I'd stayed with him, convinced I could make him love me the way I loved him.

What a fool I'd been.

Now, standing outside Devon Kane's hotel suite, I felt something else entirely: cold, calculated determination. If I wanted revenge on Ethan, I needed someone more powerful, more famous, more everything than him.

Devon Kane fit the bill perfectly.

The heir to the Kane Technology was worth billions. His company dwarfed the Blake Fashion Group in every measurable way. One photo of me with Devon would send Ethan into a jealous rage—the thought alone made me smile.

Getting here hadn't been easy. I'd reached out to my college roommate Jessica, who now worked as an assistant manager at the hotel. She'd mentioned that Devon was in town for a business dinner and had decided to stay overnight instead of returning to his penthouse. More interestingly, she'd shared a confidential piece of information – his request for special accommodations due to severe insomnia. With a borrowed uniform and key card, I'd made my way up to his floor, rehearsing my lines all the way.

Taking one final deep breath, I knocked on the door.

"Room service," I called, keeping my voice professional despite the nerves fluttering in my stomach.

A few seconds passed before the door swung open. Devon Kane stood in the doorway, his imposing frame filling the space completely. At nearly 6'3", he towered over me even in my heels. His shoulders were broad beneath a simple white shirt, the top buttons undone to reveal a glimpse of tanned skin. His jawline was sharp enough to cut glass, and his eyes—a piercing slate gray—seemed to look straight through me.

What struck me most were the dark circles under his eyes, evidence of his rumored insomnia. They didn't detract from his handsomeness but instead added a vulnerable quality to his otherwise intimidating presence.

Recognition flickered in his expression. "Ms. Aria Harper? When did you start working as hotel staff?"

"Since today," I replied with a confident smile, not waiting for an invitation as I pushed the cart forward, forcing him to step back as I wheeled it into his suite.

The presidential suite was exactly what you'd expect—spacious, elegant, with floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the glittering Manhattan skyline. A laptop sat open on a glass desk, papers spread around it. The king-sized bed was untouched, the covers still perfectly made. He hadn't even tried to sleep yet.

Devon closed the door but remained standing near it, watching me with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. "I don't recall ordering room service. Especially not from the daughter of William Harper."

I reached for the wine bottle on the cart, making a show of presenting it to him. "Château Margaux, 2005. I thought we could both use a drink."

"Bold move," Devon said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Aren't you worried your boyfriend Ethan Blake might find out you're visiting my hotel room in the middle of the night?"

I uncorked the wine with practiced ease, pouring the rich red liquid into both glasses. As I leaned forward, I made sure he caught a glimpse of the beauty mark on my collarbone, a feature I knew many men found captivating.

"That man is no longer relevant," I replied, my voice deliberately casual. I handed him a glass, letting my fingers brush against his. The brief contact sent an unexpected jolt through me. "Why mention him when there's a more mature, more intriguing man standing right in front of me?"

Devon took the glass but didn't drink. The emerald family ring on his finger caught the light as he swirled the wine, studying the liquid rather than meeting my gaze. When he finally looked up, his eyes had darkened, but his expression remained impassive.

"What are you really doing here, Ms. Harper?"

"Aria," I corrected, taking a sip of my wine. The rich flavor exploded on my tongue, giving me a moment to gather my courage.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I set my glass down. I'd never been this forward with anyone before—not even with Ethan. Devon's presence was overwhelming, his aura of power and control filling the room. My fingers trembled slightly as I reached for the buttons of my borrowed uniform.

One by one, I unfastened them, revealing what I wore underneath—a black lace slip dress that barely covered my thighs. The thin straps clung to my shoulders, the neckline dipping low enough to reveal the curves of my breasts. I let the uniform fall to the floor, standing before him in nothing but the slip and my heels.

Devon's expression didn't change, but his eyes darkened further as they traveled slowly down my body and back up again. His lack of immediate reaction made my confidence waver. Had I miscalculated? Was he not attracted to me?

Pushing aside my doubts, I stepped toward him, forcing myself to maintain eye contact despite the intimidating intensity of his gaze. My heart was racing so fast I could barely breathe, but I couldn't back down now.

"You look like you're having trouble sleeping," I said, trying to sound confident despite my inexperience. "How about we do some exercise together?"