Seduce & Break: Billionaire's Sleepless

The amber lighting in the presidential suite cast an intimate glow across the spacious room.

On the king-sized bed, Scarlett Mellon, head spinning from alcohol, traced her lips along the handsome stranger's throat, her movements deliberately seductive.

Earlier that day, she had stumbled upon her husband, Wesley Ross, at the hospital with his mistress, who was getting a prenatal checkup. The mistress was pregnant.

He'd rather father a child with his mistress than with her, his lawful wife.

He claimed she was "tainted," that touching her made him sick.

Four years ago, right after their wedding, Scarlett's father, Owen Mellon, had been suddenly arrested. While desperately searching for information about his case, she'd been drugged and assaulted at a hotel one night, losing her virginity to an unknown attacker.

After that, Wesley never touched her—no, that wasn't quite right. Wesley had never touched her at all.

But if her husband wouldn't touch her, surely someone else wouldn't find her so repulsive.

Someone like this man beneath her, who was far more attractive than Wesley could ever hope to be.

Though they'd only just met at the bar, his looks were truly one in a million.

After Scarlett's teasing kisses, the man suddenly flipped their positions, pinning her beneath him.

The tension between them was electric.

When he hesitated to continue, Scarlett wrapped her pale arms around his neck, tilted her face up to kiss him, and whispered enticingly, "I'm clean, I promise."

"Are you sure about that?" His deep voice was beautiful, but his question made her think he found her dirty too. The rejection stung, mingling with her desperation.

"Do you think I'm dirty too?"

Whether it was her tears or her words that affected him, he finally lowered his head to kiss her.

Their lips had barely touched, the kiss growing passionate, when a loud bang interrupted them.

"Security check. Open the door."

The lights flicked on. Scarlett's alcohol-fogged mind cleared instantly as she looked up, falling into the dark depths of this stranger's eyes, feeling like she might drown in them.

Her heart raced traitorously. She'd never been in this situation before and had no idea what to do. The knocking continued insistently.

The man finally got up to answer the door.

Scarlett took the opportunity to sit up, head still spinning as she leaned against the headboard. Her body felt weak, yet she wrapped her arms around herself nervously.

How had she ended up in this situation with a stranger?

"Mr. Boleyn, excuse me." A voice came from the doorway.

"Come in and check?" The man's invitation carried an unmistakable authority beneath its casual tone.

"Everyone knows Mr. Boleyn doesn't entertain women. Sorry for the disturbance."

The voice disappeared as the door closed.

Scarlett exhaled in relief, then felt embarrassment and helplessness wash over her. Her first attempt at something like this, and they'd been interrupted by a security check.

"Shall we continue?" The deep, seductive question floated to her ears.

Scarlett looked up. The man was leaning against the liquor cabinet by the door, his long legs crossed casually. His posture was relaxed yet somehow regal and untamed.

His narrow eyes studied her playfully as he twisted the ring on his left hand—an incongruous gesture that somehow perfectly blended bad-boy charm with untouchable sophistication.

This was the first time she'd encountered a man like him. Not only was he devastatingly handsome, but he possessed a unique allure that masked the sharpness beneath.

That's why she'd approached him at the bar.

She had mistakenly assumed he was just a male escort working there.

But from what had just happened, he clearly wasn't an escort—his identity was far more significant.