Chapter 10

The pungent scent of tobacco assaulted her senses.

Sophia Lowell immediately covered her mouth, coughing violently. "I can't stand smoke right now—" The words slipped out before she could stop them. She bit her lower lip in frustration.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was icy.

Ethan Roscente leaned against the doorframe, the cigarette between his fingers glowing faintly. His gaze lingered on the flushed tips of her ears before he drawled, "Sophia."

When she frowned, he added with deliberate provocation, "Here to fuck you, Sophia."

"You—!" Her ears burned crimson.

This bastard!

She turned to slam the door, but a strong hand blocked it. Ethan braced himself against the frame, towering over her.

Those peach-blossom eyes, deep as a pool, always seemed to hold a hint of affection—no matter who they looked at. Once, she had been fooled by them, believing he truly cared for her.

Later, she learned all his tenderness was a lie. She was just a shield to protect the woman he truly loved, a plaything he could summon at will.

"State your business or leave." Sophia pressed against the door, her voice glacial.

Ethan scoffed and effortlessly pushed it open. He locked it behind him, then seized the back of her neck, slamming her against the entryway cabinet.

"Ah—" The hard edge dug into her spine, drawing a pained gasp from her.

Before she could react, his lips crashed down on hers. The taste of tobacco and cold cedar flooded her mouth. She struggled, but his strength overpowered her.

Slap!

A sharp crack echoed through the room.

Ethan turned his head slightly, tongue pressing against his stinging cheek. He narrowed his eyes, thumb brushing her bloodied lip. "You've grown bold."

"Had enough?" He gripped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Even playing hard to get has its limits."

Sophia suddenly laughed.

Even now, he still thought this was some petty game.

"Ethan." She stared straight into his eyes, her voice feather-light. "I mean it. I'll pay you back. We're done."

"Pay me back?" His laugh was cold. "With what?" His gaze raked over her. "Asking that blind date for money? Sophia, are you really this cheap?"

Every word cut like a knife, leaving her bleeding inside.

Her nails dug into her palms, but her expression remained calm. "Whether I sell my body or my blood, it's none of your concern. You agreed yesterday—once the money's transferred, we're even."

Ethan lit another cigarette, the ember casting shadows across his sharp profile. "When did I ever agree?"