Clara had fought tooth and nail for this opportunity.
“Oh, Ivy, my dear sister,” Clara pleaded, “you must charm Vincent and show him a night he’ll never
forget!”
When Clara returned home, the night had wrapped its dark velvet blanket around the world.
Stepping through the front door, she was greeted by Tessa descending the staircase, “Clara, why are
you back so late? Where have you been?”
“I was at a networking event with the cast and crew,” Clara said, massaging her temples, feigning
exhaustion. “You have no idea how hard I hustle to land a role, Tessa.”
Seeing Clara’s pained expression, Tessa felt a pang of sympathy, “You’ve really outdone yourself,
Clara. Go to your room and get some rest.”
“Sure, Clara replied, holding her head as she trudged towards her room.
Meanwhile, Ivy was navigating uncharted waters, an experience foreign to her. Her body ached, finding
solace only in the warmth of the man’s touch. She clung to him, naively reciprocating his urgent kisses.
In a hazy moment, she heard him murmur a name close to her ear, “Mara…”
Mara?
Who was Mara?
The next day.
The man in the bed awoke with a start, his head pounding fiercely. Realizing he was stark naked, he
sensed trouble. Turning his head, he saw Ivy, still lost in slumber beside him.
This woman is…?
Memories of the previous evening flooded back to Balfour Howard, and with them, a wave of disdain
for the woman at his side.
As the patriarch of the Howard family, Balfour was accustomed to women vying for his attention by any
means necessary.
However, Balfour prided himself on his integrity, never indulging in affairs with such women. Yet, the
previous night, he had lost his senses.” After attending a business soiree and overindulging in the wine,
his associates had helped him to a hotel room to sleep it off.
And in his vulnerability, this woman had seized her chance.
Coldly observing Ivy, Balfour saw no difference between her and the other women who traded their
dignity for status and fortune.
Suddenly, Ivy’s eyelashes fluttered, and her eyes opened.
Startled by the unfamiliar man before her, Ivy shrieked. Realizing she was unclothed, she quickly
grabbed the sheet to cover herself, crying out, “Ah! Who are you? Why are you in my room?”
Balfour frowned, “Take a good look around. Whose room do you think this is?”
Forced to calm down, Ivy surveyed the room, the events of the previous night slowly coming back to
her, “This… wasn’t this the room my sister booked? How… how did you get in here?”
As she spoke, Ivy wrapped the sheet around herself, cautiously slipping out of bed.
Her eyes inadvertently caught sight of a crimson stain on the sheets, sending a sharp pain through her
head.
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