"Please, I need to wash this disaster off my skin before I lose my mind."
Mira Serrano didn't wait for a response, she shoved the door shut behind her and pressed her back to it, heart racing out of control. Her pulse hammered against her ribs so violently she wondered if it might break through bone. The suite was dim, only the faint glow from the city slipping in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting the room in fragments of blue and gold.
As silence wrapped around her, the last twenty-four hours crashed into her all at once.
"If my brother finds out…"
The words left her in a choked whisper.
Her knees threatened to give, wobbling beneath her like they didn't belong to her. She squeezed her eyes shut and forced a shaky breath into her lungs.
"No. No, he won't. Nobody will. Get it together, Mira."
But her voice was thin, cracking at the edges. She pushed herself off the door and staggered toward the bathroom as though the air had thickened around her. Every step echoed loudly in her ears-her heels clicking against marble, her breath trembling, her heartbeat racing ahead of her.
The crimson gown she still wore clung to her skin, damp with sweat, the satin pressing to her like guilt. She tugged at the zipper with unsteady fingers, the fabric whispering as it peeled away. The cool air hit her flushed skin, making her shiver.
When she stepped inside the bathroom, the cold tiles bit against her feet. The scent of sandalwood from her diffusers usually calmed her, but this morning it felt too soft for the storm inside her.
She looked up-and froze.
Her reflection stared back: flushed cheeks, mascara smudged beneath her eyes, glossy hair tangled from sleep, and scattered all along her collarbone and hips… dark marks that were unmistakable.
Evidence.
"Oh god," she whispered, gripping the counter. "You are in so much trouble, Mira Serrano."
Her breath trembled. Her stomach twisted. Shame and heat warred beneath her skin.
She grabbed a towel-wrapping it around herself like flimsy armor-but it did nothing to hide the memories seared into her body. The towel felt thin. Cheap. Useless.
"One drop of rum," she muttered. "Just one. That's all I remember."
But that wasn't exactly true.
Her pulse kicked.
And then-
Cassian Draymond.
Her family's rival. The man whose surname was practically cursed inside the Serrano household. Sharp-jawed, devastatingly handsome, ruthless, infuriatingly charismatic Cassian. The man who had humiliated her brother publicly in front of donors, investors, and cameras just a month ago. The man who never missed a chance to remind the Serranos that they were losing their grip.
And somehow she had ended up in a hotel bed with him.
Mira swallowed hard, the memory floating back like fog. His bare chest in the faint hotel light, the shadows tracing the hard lines of his body. The warmth of him against her. The rum on her tongue. His breath near her ear. The way her legs felt weak even now, the deep ache between her thighs making her want to sink to the floor.
She had woken up beside him, his arm draped over her waist like it belonged there. Cassian sleeping, quiet, peaceful, unfairly beautiful.
She had carefully slipped out from under his arm, grabbed her dress, and escaped without waking him.
Or so she had hoped.
"This is not happening," she whispered, hands shaking as she paced the bathroom. "This cannot be happening."
Then her phone buzzed.
Violently.
Mira yelped, nearly dropping it. She snatched it up.
Call from: Livia Serrano.
Perfect. Just perfect.
She cleared her throat and answered. "Livia?"
"Mira?" Livia's voice cracked through the speaker, shrill and panicked. "It's six in the morning! Where the hell did you disappear last night? Everyone was looking for you!"
"I'm.. home," Mira said quietly, glancing over her shoulder as though Cassian might materialize behind her. "I'll explain later."
"Explain what?" her sister demanded. "Mira, did something happen? Did you-"
"I'll explain later!" Mira hissed and hung up before panic could spill out of the phone and drown her.
She hadn't even taken one breath before
A sharp knock sounded.
Mira froze mid-step, towel tightening around her chest.
No. No, no, no.
She approached the door on trembling toes and peeked through the peephole.
A man stood outside. Tall. Broad shoulders. Navy suit. Hands clasped behind his back. Expression blank.
One of Cassian's men.
Her stomach dropped to her knees.
She opened the door a sliver. "What?"
The man inclined his head respectfully. "Ms. Serrano… is Mr. Draymond still here?"
Her jaw fell open. "Wh- NO! Why would he be here?!"
The man blinked once. Slowly. Calmly.
"Do you require a ride home, miss?"
"I am home," she snapped.
He nodded. "Very well. I'll report that you are safe."
"Report? Report to who, wait!" she called, but he was already halfway down the hall.
Mira shut the door and leaned her forehead against it.
"What the hell is going on…"
An hour later, Mira drove into the underground garage of the Serrano Estate wearing sweatpants, an oversized hoodie, and an expression that said she'd like to evaporate.
She barely locked her car before,
"Mira Isabel Serrano."
Livia.
Standing right in front of her. In pajamas. Arms crossed. Sibling judgment radiating like headlights.
Mira flinched. "Livia, please, no lecture before breakfast."
"We're past lectures," Livia snapped. "We are in crisis mode. After the gala,after half the board watched you disappear,and now you come home looking like you've been hit by a train,what happened?"
"Nothing."
"And why are you walking like a newborn deer?"
"I AM NOT-" Mira clamped her lips shut. "I'm not limping."
"Oh, you are absolutely limping."
Heat crawled up Mira's neck. "Drop it."
Livia narrowed her eyes, following her into the elevator. "What did you do?"
"Nothing! I just.. drank too much and booked a room," Mira insisted, jabbing the elevator button like it personally offended her.
"A room where?" Livia pressed.
Mira's eye twitched. "A hotel."
"Which hotel?"
"A hotel."
"Mhm." Livia leaned closer, with the grin of someone who smelled blood. "Did you book it with a tall, irritatingly attractive corporate devil?"
Mira choked on air.
Livia gasped. Loudly. "MIRA!"
"Shhh!" Mira slapped a hand over her sister's mouth. "Do you want the security guards to start making bets?!"
The elevator doors slid open.
Livia pulled Mira's hand away. "Dad is going to—"
"DON'T you dare finish that sentence," Mira warned. "He can't know. Nobody can."
They stepped inside. Livia practically vibrated with glee.
"Oh, Mira," she whispered dramatically. "You are so screwed."
"Stop talking."
"You slept with him, didn't you-"
"LIVIA!" Then Mira's phone buzzed again.
Her heart sank. She already knew.
Unknown number, She opened the message.
Cassian Draymond:
We need to talk. Today.
Her entire soul left her body.
Another message came instantly.
Also… you left your bracelet in my bed.
Livia inhaled sharply. "OH."
Mira covered her face with both hands.
"I'm dead," she groaned. "I'm actually dead."
And beneath all the panic, all the dread, all the humiliation…
There was something else twisting inside her.
Something dangerous.
Something she absolutely didn't want to name.