“Have you tried yourself as I suggested, Nadine?” my lover’s voice was a low, seductive hum, laced with a playful challenge.
We were alone in his room on the second floor, while the ground floor buzzed with the chaotic energy of his usual house party.
The laughter and music below felt like a distant world, one I had no desire to return to.
I nodded, the heat already creeping up my cheeks.
He smiled, a proud gleam in his eyes as he rose from the bed, his gaze never leaving mine. “Can you show me?”
A knot of hesitation twisted in my stomach, but his expectant eyes were hard to refuse.
There was something about the way he looked at me—like I was his entire world. And for that reason alone, I could not disappoint him.
I nodded again, my fingers trembling as I lay back on the bed.
The sheets were cool against my skin, but the chill was quickly overtaken by the fire Raphael had lit within me.
Slowly, my fingers trailed over my body, starting from the delicate curve of my neck down to my core. I shut my eyes, imagining his touch instead of mine, just as he had suggested.
“Good girl,” Raphael whispered, his voice thick with approval. His eyes drank in every move I made, his breathing heavy. “You’re perfect, Nadine. Absolutely perfect.”
I did it because I loved him. I loved this man who watched me with such raw hunger—Raphael Moreau, the son of my family’s bitter rival in Europe.
His family’s influence stretched across the UK like a shadow, while mine ruled over France with prestige and power.
We were not supposed to be together. We were two pieces of different puzzles forced to fit.
But for him, I had given everything. Because he gave me everything, too—just like Romeo to Juliet.
I was the only spare in my family, the one with the freedom to choose her own path.
And I had chosen to study in London, far away from the high expectations and endless scrutiny of my family’s world. I majored in literature because books were my escape.
So, London was where I met Raphael. The man who shattered my quiet world and rebuilt it with the warmth of his smile.
His charm was undeniable, his brilliance well-known across campus. And that handsome man—impossibly perfect—had fallen for me.
“You’re so beautiful, Nadine,” he murmured, his fingers brushing gently against my flushed cheeks. His touch was both tender and possessive. “Absolutely breathtaking.”
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead before slowly unbuttoning his shirt, letting the fabric slide from his shoulders. I could only watch, breathless, as he discarded the last barrier between us.
“That was amazing,” he said, his voice a mix of praise and anticipation. “But now... let me show you how much I love you.”
He tore off the plastic with his teeth and swiftly slipped the safety on before his lips claiming mine with urgency and passion.
I gave myself to him. My voice tangled with his as pleasure built between us.
“Raphael...” I gasped as he thrust into me, his name slipping from my lips like a prayer.
“I’ll be gentle,” he promised, his gaze locking onto mine. “Don’t worry.”
The party continued downstairs, a dull roar of music and laughter that masked our tangled cries and shuddered breaths.
The world beyond this room did not matter. Nothing did, except him.
When our passion finally ebbed, we lay tangled in each other’s arms, our bodies slick with sweat and satisfaction. I had never felt so alive, so completely consumed by someone.
Raphael had prepared the best for me—every touch, every kiss, was a testament to how much he desired me.
“You look messy,” he chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from my face.
His expression had softened, but there was still that gleam of pride and possession in his eyes. “Go clean yourself up and fix your makeup before you go downstairs. We don’t want anyone to suspect anything, do we?”
“Of course.” I nodded, forcing a smile. But something tightened in my chest at his words.
Was he ashamed of me? Or was he only worried about his reputation?
Raphael leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. “Good girl. You did so well. Thank you for this precious graduation gift, my love.”
I watched him put his clothes back on, his movements graceful and unbothered.
And as he left the room with that same easy confidence, the door closing softly behind him, I felt something unsettling swirl within me.
Maybe it was just the afterglow. Or maybe it was something else entirely.
But before I could linger on it, I got up to clean myself, telling myself over and over that Raphael loved me. That he truly cared.
The alternative was something I was not ready to face.
As I stepped out of the room after showering, I made my way toward the room where Raphael and his friends were gathered.
Just before I could push the door open fully, their laughter spilled into the hallway—casual, mocking, and all too familiar.
“Imagine if tonight’s intimate videos were spread on the internet. The Delaunay family's reputation would definitely be ruined, right?”
“Right! Their daughter’s body displayed like that—how could they not be embarrassed? Haha.”
“To be honest, when I saw it, I also wanted to try it.”
“Damn you,” someone else chuckled. “Before you even succeed, you’d already feel Raphael’s fist.”
My body froze. My fingers clutched the doorframe, my nails digging into the wood as their words slammed into me like icy blades.
My intimate videos? Raphael had... recorded us?
No. No, it could not be true.
But then, Raphael’s voice cut through their laughter, calm and composed, his tone carrying that infuriating air of superiority. “That’s why you shouldn’t make the Moreau family a rival.”
“Right,” one of them agreed. “At least, every time Victor makes your family have a hard time, you have a way to silence them.”
“No, I won’t wait that long. In just a week, at the Moreau Group’s Anniversary, I’ll reveal to the world that their beloved daughter is nothing more than a slave to desire,” Raphael sneered, a smirk curling on his lips.
“Damn you,” one of his friends cursed. “So, this is a gift for your grand debut as the Moreau family’s first successor? You’re ruthless.”
My breath hitched, and I slapped my hand over my mouth, stifling the choked sob that clawed its way up my throat.
It turned out Raphael had been planning to use me to destroy my family’s reputation.
Every smile, every touch, every whispered promise of love had been nothing but a carefully constructed illusion.
I stumbled back into his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind me.
How could I have been so stupid and utterly blind all the time?
I had given him my trust, believing that what we had was real. But it was nothing more than a cruel, twisted lie.
Still, I refused to crumble. Swallowing my sorrow, I steadied myself and fought back.
My trembling fingers clutched the phone as I scrolled through my contacts, finding the name that had always been my safety net.
Victor Delaunay, my brother. The only one who had ever truly loved me, even when I made decisions that tore him apart.
Victor had been disappointed when he discovered my relationship with Raphael. His frustration was sharp and his disapproval fierce.
But he had never blamed me. Despite everything, he loved me too much to hold my choices against me. His protectiveness often felt suffocating, but it was born from genuine care.
I remembered his last attempt to pull me away from Raphael’s toxic embrace. His cold, matter-of-fact message felt more like a warning than an invitation.
[Come home. Your fiancé is waiting.]
At the time, I had read those words with resentment, thinking he was trying to control me, to bend my life to his will. I had called him cruel, selfish, and unfeeling.
But that time, I saw his offer for what it truly was—a lifeline.
A chance to leave Raphael forever.
As the call connected, I directly asked first, “Is your offer about the fiancé still valid now, Vic?”
