The first spin landed on William, and the room immediately lit up with tension. Emily smiled and turned to him. “Mr. Donovan, it’s your turn. Tell us, have you ever slept with Mrs. Donovan?” The whole room erupted—everyone except Theo, who’d just flown in from abroad and had no clue who “Mrs. Donovan” even was. Everyone else knew exactly who Emily meant: Grace. Laughter and whistles filled the space as people leaned in, eager for the drama. Emily shot Grace a mischievous glance. “Come on, Mr. Donovan. You’ve been married three years. Don’t tell me you’ve never touched your own wife? Do you even like her?” Camila joined in, eyeing Grace up and down with a smug smile. “I told William not to touch that woman. So of course he hasn’t.” Emily and Camila were in perfect sync, taking turns throwing Grace under the bus. Riley and the others hyped things up even more. “Come on, answer! No lying, it’s truth or dare!” Clara, sitting a little farther back, glared at Emily and Camila, her
"Because you're annoying," G replied. William could sense the irritation in her message, even if it was just text. He frowned. He had no idea what she was suddenly upset about. Still, he simply typed back “What do you mean?”, set his phone on the table, and returned to the stack of documents in front of him. By the time he finished working, it was already late. He got up to pour himself a glass of water in the kitchen, and on his way back to the bedroom, his eyes flicked toward the bed. Grace was already asleep. He was about to crash on the couch again when a soft ding broke the silence. Grace’s phone lit up on the pillow beside her. A new message had come in. William glanced at it out of habit. In the split second the screen lit up, his eyes narrowed. There it was—his name. On the lock screen. He moved without thinking, stepping closer to the bed. His hand reached out, hovering just above the phone. But right then, Grace stirred in her sleep. Her head turned slightly, and
William had just stepped out of the shower, now dressed in sleek black silk pajamas. His hair was still damp, with beads of water trailing slowly down the ends. A light steam clung to his skin, making him look younger, even more striking than when he wore a suit. Grace shot him a glance. The man really was stupidly good-looking. A soft ringtone sliced through the silence. William walked over to his phone and answered. Paul’s voice came through the line. “She said yes, sir. White Scalpel agreed to meet you tomorrow at the central hospital.” William’s expression didn’t change. “She shows up whenever she wants, acting all mysterious. Tomorrow, I’m going to see who she really is.” Grace’s blood ran cold. Her heart dropped. This was it. Game over. William hadn’t forgotten how White Scalpel toyed with him. How dare she? He wasn’t about to let her walk away this time. They were going to meet. No way around it. He turned to Grace. “Aren’t you gonna shower?” “I am,” she replied quic
Grace didn’t love William anymore. His cold gaze locked onto hers. His eyes were sharp, like they could read her mind. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “So I’m really not in your heart anymore?” “…Yeah… Mm!” She didn’t even finish her sentence when William suddenly leaned in and kissed her—hard. Her mind went blank. Eyes wide, stunned that he kissed her just like that. It wasn’t their first kiss. The last time—in the bathroom—she had been the one to initiate it. She pulled him in, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him. But this time… it was all him. Grace snapped out of it, pushing against his chest. “William, stop!” she mumbled, but her voice was muffled. His broad body pinned her against the wall. His kiss was forceful, aggressive, and completely dominant. The second her lips parted to speak, William took advantage, slipping inside and taking over. That scent of his—clean, masculine, dangerously addictive—hit her hard. She’d never slept with anyone but Wi
"Ahhh!" Camila’s scream pierced the air just as William slammed on the brakes. The Mercedes-Maybach jerked to a hard stop. She was panting, her face pale with fear. "What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you driving like a maniac?" William’s face was unreadable, cold as always. He looked ahead and realized the Lamborghini he’d been tailing had already disappeared into the distance. He pressed his lips together. "Are you hurt?" Camila gave a small nod. "I’m fine." Then added bitterly, "I just can’t believe Theo actually noticed Grace. You saw her on the dance floor, didn’t you? She’s just some uneducated small-town girl. Probably spent her whole life learning how to seduce men. She’s cheap and completely shameless." William’s eyes turned cold. The image of Grace dancing effortlessly in the crowd flashed in his mind. Even Theo, who was known for being picky and impossible to impress, had clearly fallen under her spell. Camila sighed, then asked, "Will, did you go through with
“There she is!” Theo spotted her instantly. Camila, on the other hand, stared in disbelief. Grace? Dancing? In the middle of the crowd at Bar Lumière? Under the vibrant lights, her body moved effortlessly beside Clara, flowing with the music like it came naturally. Grace wasn’t even trying, but every move was fluid, deliberate, and stunning. Even Camila—widely known as the best ballerina around—had to admit it, silently. Grace danced better than her. More seductive. More dangerous. Unbelievable. The men in the bar couldn’t look away. Whistles and cheers erupted from every corner. Their eyes said it all. Camila clenched her fists. A burning rage bubbled in her chest. That girl? That country girl? Who the hell did she think she was, stealing the spotlight like that? Why did it always have to be Grace? Then, Camila felt it—an absence. William’s arm was no longer around her waist. He’d stepped forward. His eyes, once locked on her, were now frozen on Grace. Unblinking. Camil