The city of Ashbourne was ruthless, and at the very top stood Evans Wood—a billionaire so powerful that his name alone could make people tremble. 

He controlled the stock market, crushed his enemies, and made fortunes with a single decision. No one dared to cross him. 

But tonight, someone had set him up. 

The invitation had come from an investor he didn't fully trust, but the man's connections were too valuable to ignore. A simple meeting at Velvet Nights, an exclusive club, didn't seem like a big deal. 

Then, everything went wrong. 

Evans took a sip of his whiskey, and almost immediately, he felt it—his body burning up, his vision blurring. His pulse pounded in his ears. 

He had been drugged.

His enemies didn't want him dead. They wanted him compromised. A scandal to bring him down. 

And right now, he was losing control. 

--- 

Cherry Hill didn't belong in a place like Ashbourne. 

She had grown up in a quiet village, surrounded by nature and dreams of a simple life. But after losing her parents, she had no choice but to move to the city and take whatever job she could find. 

Now, she worked as a barmaid at Velvet Nights. It wasn't glamorous, but it paid the bills. 

That night, she saw him. 

She had served plenty of rich men, but Evans Wood was different. 

He sat in the VIP section, a man who looked like he ruled the world. His expensive suit fit him perfectly, his sharp features unreadable, his cold blue eyes full of authority. 

But something was wrong.

His hands clenched his glass tightly. His breathing was uneven. 

Then, he stood up—unsteady. His darkened gaze landed on her, intense and full of something dangerous. 

Cherry took a step back. "Sir, are you okay?" 

Before she could react, Evans grabbed her wrist. His grip was hot against her skin. "Who did this?" 

His voice was rough, strained, like he was holding himself together by a thread. 

"Did what?" Cherry whispered, heart pounding She saw it then—the way his muscles tensed, his pupils blown wide. **He wasn't himself.** 

He had been drugged. 

"Sir, you need help—" 

But Evans wasn't listening. His fingers curled around her waist, his touch desperate, his control slipping. 

"Get me out of here," he ordered. 

Cherry hesitated. She had heard stories about powerful men, about girls being used and thrown away. 

But looking at him now—at the way he was struggling to fight whatever had been done to him—she couldn't just walk away. She nodded. 

"Come with me." 

--- 

They barely made it to the private suite before Evans lost control. 

The moment the door shut, a low growl rumbled from his throat. Before Cherry could process what was happening, he had her pinned against the wall, his hands gripping her waist, his body burning like fire against hers. 

"Wait—" she gasped, but the word barely left her lips before his mouth was on hers. 

Hot. Hard. Desperate. 

His lips claimed hers with raw hunger, parting them roughly as he devoured every breath she tried to take. Cherry stiffened, her hands pressing against his chest in a weak attempt to push him away, but he was too strong. 

Evans groaned against her mouth, his grip tightening as if he was afraid she would disappear. His kiss was feverish, frantic, as if he was drowning and she was the only thing keeping him afloat. His hands roamed up her sides, one slipping into her hair, fisting the strands as he tilted her head to deepen the kiss. 

His tongue swept against hers, sending a shiver down her spine. It was too much—too intense, too overwhelming. 

Cherry whimpered against his lips, and something in that sound made him pause for the briefest second. But then he was back, his lips trailing down her jaw, his breath hot against her skin as he traced a path to her neck. 

He kissed her there—slow, lingering, almost tender—before sucking lightly, sending a shockwave of heat straight to her stomach. Cherry gasped, her fingers curling into his suit, her body betraying her as she melted into his touch. 

His hand slid down, gripping her thigh, hitching it up against his hip as his body pressed her harder against the wall. Every inch of him was rigid, muscles tense, barely holding back something darker, something dangerous. 

" mr, please stop—" she whispered, her voice trembling. 

His lips paused against her collarbone. "I can't stop," he murmured, his voice thick, desperate. "I don't want to hurt you." 

But his body told a different story. His hands trembled against her, his breath ragged, his restraint hanging by a thread. 

Cherry's heart pounded. 'This was it'

She had never been with a man before. And tonight, she would lose everything. 

Evans lifted her effortlessly, pressing her back against the door as his lips found hers again, rougher, needier. His hands moved over her, tracing the shape of her body, his fingers pressing into her soft skin as if trying to memorize every inch. 

Cherry's breaths came in short, uneven gasps, her mind foggy with confusion and fear. She wasn't supposed to feel this way—this heat, this dizziness, this overwhelming sensation of being consumed. 

Evans' lips trailed lower, down the column of her neck, his breath hot and ragged as he kissed her bare shoulder. "You feel so soft," he murmured, almost to himself, his fingers grazing the thin straps of her dress. 

Cherry shivered, her body betraying her as a strange warmth spread through her chest. Her fingers curled against his suit, weakly gripping the fabric, as if trying to hold onto something—anything. 

"Please…" she whispered, not even sure what she was begging for. 

Evans exhaled sharply, his forehead pressing against hers. He was losing himself, his grip on reality slipping. Whatever had been put into his drink was controlling him now, pushing him beyond his limits. 

He didn't want to hurt her. But he couldn't stop. 

His mouth found hers again, his kiss almost punishing this time, his body pressing her deeper into the door as his hands wandered lower. 

Cherry whimpered, her body trembling under his touch. Tears burned in her eyes. 

And then—pain. 

A sharp, burning sensation tore through her, making her gasp. 

Evans groaned, his grip on her tightening. 

She tried to push him away, but he was too strong. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her breath coming in harsh, broken sobs. 

Evans' body stilled for a moment, his ragged breath fanning against her ear. Then, his fingers brushed against her cheek—almost gentle. Almost regretful. 

"Forgive me," he whispered. 

But it was already too late.