Golden rays of sunlight filtered softly through the gauzy curtains, casting delicate patterns across the room. They landed on the serene face of a woman lying on the large bed, her dark hair cascading over the pillow like an ink spill. The warmth of the light tugged her gently from the depths of her sleep, and as her eyes fluttered open, her relaxed expression dissolved into confusion.
This wasn't her room.
Her breath hitched, and her heart began to race as her gaze darted around the unfamiliar surroundings. The modern yet minimalistic decor—charcoal walls, sleek furniture, and the faint scent of cologne in the air—hinted at masculine ownership.
Then she turned her head and froze.
Lying beside her was a man—a devastatingly handsome one, with sharp jawlines, disheveled dark hair, and a peaceful look on his face. His muscular arm rested on the sheets, mere inches from where she had been.
The world tilted as the weight of realization crashed down on her. Mei Ling clutched the blanket tightly against her chest, her mind scrambling for answers. What had she done? Her pulse thundered in her ears, blocking out everything except the awful truth staring her in the face.
Gathering herself, she gingerly slid out of bed, careful not to make a sound. Her hands trembled as she grabbed a towel from the bedside table, draping it around her bare shoulders like a shield. She cast one last glance at the man who had turned her world upside down.
It was Wei Jun—her sister Mei Hua's fiancé.
Her legs felt weak as she padded across the cool hardwood floor toward the bathroom. Once inside, she shut the door behind her, locking it with trembling fingers before leaning back against it. She exhaled shakily, feeling the cold bite of the surface seep through her skin.
Turning toward the mirror, she reluctantly met her reflection. Her usually composed face was pale, her wide, haunted eyes brimming with guilt and disbelief. Then her gaze dropped lower.
Dark marks bloomed faintly along her neck and collarbone, evidence of a night she wished she could erase. Flashes of fevered moments—a pair of strong hands gripping her waist, whispered promises exchanged in the dark, lips trailing along her skin—played cruelly in her mind.
"No," she whispered to herself, clutching the edge of the sink. Her nails dug into the porcelain as if the pain could bring clarity.
How could she have allowed this to happen? Mei Hua adored Wei Jun, had been dreaming of their future together, planning a wedding filled with love and joy. And now, because of her weakness—because of her betrayal—everything was ruined.
Tears welled up in her eyes as shame pressed down on her chest. How could she ever look Mei Hua in the eye again? What explanation could possibly excuse the unforgivable?
Her mind churned with unanswered questions and self-reproach, but one thing became abundantly clear: she couldn't stay here.
As Mei Ling splashed cold water on her face, hoping to wash away the evidence of her guilt, she made a silent vow. Whatever it took, Mei Hua could never know the truth. She had already stolen something precious—something she could never give back. Now, she would do anything to protect her sister from the pain she knew too well.
But as she glanced at her reflection one last time, a shadow of doubt lingered. Could she truly bury this secret forever, or would it come back to destroy them all?