Isabella's pupils constricted violently.

She clutched the torn hem of her dress with trembling hands. "Adrian, have you lost your mind?"

Dark currents swirled in Adrian's eyes.

He pinned her slender wrist with one hand, leaning close to whisper in her ear, "Dressed like this, weren't you begging for it?"

"I wasn't!" Isabella struggled desperately.

Adrian smirked coldly.

He'd seen too many women like her.

Their lips said no while their bodies screamed yes.

"Drop the act." He yanked open her collar. "I knew exactly what you wanted the moment you walked in."

Isabella shivered uncontrollably.

She had harbored ulterior motives.

But never imagined things would escalate this far.

"I love Ethan..." Her voice broke with unshed tears.

Adrian gripped her chin. "He doesn't want you. I do."

The words stabbed through Isabella's heart like daggers.

Her resistance crumbled.

When Adrian's lips descended, she closed her eyes.

The scene that greeted his subordinates bursting in with two women was nothing short of scandalous.

Adrian jerked his head up.

His glare sent the trio scrambling for the exit.

Ninety minutes later.

Isabella curled into the sofa corner, her gaze hollow.

Adrian leisurely adjusted his tie. "Not bad."

The crude praise made her burn with humiliation.

She hurled a cushion at him. "Get out!"

He caught it effortlessly, tossing her a pillbox. "Take these."

Isabella moved through her home in a daze.

Victoria noticed something amiss immediately.

"What happened?"

Isabella burst into tears. "Mom, Adrian and I..."

Victoria's eyes gleamed after hearing the story.

"This is perfect!"

"Perfect?" Isabella gaped at her mother.

Victoria lowered her voice. "He's a Sullivan heir too. Marrying him isn't a bad deal."

"But I love Ethan—"

"Foolish girl!" Victoria tapped her forehead. "Ethan only has eyes for that Sophia. When will you wake up?"

Ten days later.

Theodore Valentine returned from abroad.

After hearing his wife's scheme, he mused, "Worth a try."

Isabella dialed Adrian's number. "My father wants to discuss our engagement."

Light laughter crackled through the receiver. "What engagement?"

"You promised to take responsibility!"

"I did." Adrian's tone turned mocking. "Never said I'd marry you."

Isabella trembled with rage. "You bastard!"

"Two million should cover ten hymen repairs."

The vulgar jab shattered her composure.

"You son of a bitch!"

The line went dead.

Redialing only yielded busy signals.

When Victor Sullivan learned of this, his fury knew no bounds.

Adrian calmly played a recording.

Hearing the "son of a bitch" slur, Victor's face darkened.

That afternoon.

Isabella received a check.

The memo line read: Performance fee.

She tore it to shreds with shaking hands.