Dawn light filtered through the curtains.

Sophia Laurent opened her eyes to find herself curled against Ethan Sullivan's chest. His arm was wrapped firmly around her waist, his steady breath warm against her hair.

She distinctly remembered sleeping in separate beds last night.

"Awake?" His husky voice rumbled above her.

She tilted her head up, meeting his dark gaze. "How did you end up here?"

Ethan tightened his embrace. "Didn't want you rolling off the bed."

"I'm not a child." She laughed, poking his chin. "How's your stomach?"

"Better."

They helped each other sit up, moving as carefully as if handling fragile porcelain.

Sophia suddenly giggled. "We look like those elderly couples supporting each other in the park."

Ethan pinched her cheek. "When we're old, I'll go first."

"Why?"

"Couldn't bear to leave you alone." His whisper was soft but clear.

Her heart swelled as her fingers traced his cool lips. "Mr. Sullivan's been practicing his sweet talk."

He smiled without answering.

Words he once found cliché now flowed effortlessly—just for her.

When housekeeper Maggie brought breakfast, she found them feeding each other bites of porridge and vegetables. The older woman shook her head and quietly retreated.

An assistant knocked and whispered into Ethan's ear.

"Confirmed?" Ethan's eyes turned icy.

"Surveillance shows it didn't happen in the banquet hall. By the time we realized, the tableware had already been cleaned."

Ethan smirked. "How efficient. This was premeditated."

"Should we investigate Miss Isabella?"

"She lacks the nerve." Ethan tapped the table. "Keep tabs on Adrian. Let him taste his own medicine."

——

One week later, Tang Palace VIP lounge.

After seeing off clients, Adrian Sullivan sprawled alone on his private suite's sofa. Alcohol blurred his thoughts, yet his body burned with unnatural heat.

The familiar sensation triggered instant alarm.

"Find who tampered with my drink," he rasped to his subordinate. "And send two clean girls."

As the man left, Adrian glared at Ethan's photo on his phone. "Quick counterattack. Pity you can't play dirty."

A knock sounded.

Isabella Valentine swayed in, her mint-green camisole highlighting porcelain skin. Overpowering perfume choked Adrian's breath.

"Adrian, you wanted me?" Her voice dripped honey.

His temple throbbed. "Who sent you?"

"Your assistant called..." She reached for his forehead. "You're burning up!"

Her low neckline gaped as she leaned forward.

Adrian seized her wrist.

"Let go!" She stumbled back but was yanked onto the sofa.

When she saw the feral redness in his eyes, understanding dawned. "You've been drugged! I'll call—"

Fabric ripped violently.