Chapter 2

• My phone vibrated quietly on the table. A familiar name flashed across the screen Kenzo.
• My pulse quickened.
• For three years, I had waited for this name to appear again.
• I answered, trying to steady my voice. “Hello?”
• “Hey,” his tone was cold, clipped the same voice that once made her heart tremble with affection. “I’m at the Imperial Hotel, Room 1968. Bring me a new set of clothes. Now.”
• The line went dead before I could respond.
• I stared at my phone for a moment, dazed. The classroom chatter faded into a blur.
• Kenzo had called.
• After three long years.
• Three years ago, I had been two hours late to meet him all because I stopped to help a man injured on the roadside. When I finally arrived at the park, Kenzo was gone. Later that night, I learned he had fallen from the rock cliff near the lake and been taken to the hospital.
• Coincidentally, my half-sister, Claire , had been there too. She had tried to save him, fallen as well, and bruised her head badly. The injury left a faint scar that became a permanent reminder of that day the day everything began to unravel.
• Rumors spread quickly. Kenzo and Claire grew closer after that accident. To outsiders, I became the villain the inattentive fiancée who had failed him. Even though our families had agreed upon our engagement, Kenzo’s warmth toward me turned to ice.
• From then on, he treated me as though I were the cause of every misfortune in his life.
• I hurried back to the school dormitory, my hands trembling as I opened my closet. I took out a carefully wrapped set of men’s clothes a crisp white shirt and tailored suit pants an expensive gift I had bought months ago with half my summer salary, thinking one day I might find the courage to see him again.
• “Guess fate made that decision for me,” I murmured bitterly, pressing the package against my chest.
• So much had changed.
• My parents’ divorce had left my mother and I penniless. The Mills family had turned their backs on us completely. Once, I had been the adored young lady of the prestigious Mills family now, I was just Naomi, a quiet teacher living in a dorm.
• The Titanic Hotel towered over port skyline opulent, cold, and distant, much like the man waiting inside.
• My hand trembled as I placed it on the doorknob of Room 1986. To my surprise, it turned easily. The door was unlocked.
• From inside came the faint sound of laughter a woman’s soft giggle, followed by a man’s deep voice. My chest tightened. A sense of foreboding washed over me.
• I pushed the door open, just a little.
• And froze.
• Clothes were scattered carelessly across the carpet. On the wide velvet sofa, two bodies were tangled together bare skin, heavy breaths, the unmistakable rhythm of intimacy.
• My heart plummeted.
• For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.
• Kenzo.
• The man I had once loved with everything I had the man I believed still held a piece of my heart was lying there, with another woman.
• He had called me here… for this?
• To humiliate me? Was he trying to revenge back”.
• My fingers dug into the fabric of my coat, nails biting into my palm. The air felt suffocating. Three years of quiet pain, three years of dignity, shattered in a single glance.
• I had imagined reconciliation. Instead, I found betrayal.
• Again.
• The woman’s red nails trailed down Kenzo’s chest as she noticed me standing there. A sly smile curved her painted lips.
• “Oh, look,” she purred, “your fiancée is here.”
• Her words dripped with mockery.
• Kenzo didn’t even flinch.
• “Ignore her,” he said coolly, pressing a kiss to the woman’s neck. “She’s only here to bring me clothes. How disappointing.”
• My vision blurred.
• My throat tightened, but I refused to let tears fall not here, not in front of them.
• The woman giggled, clearly emboldened. “How cruel, Mr. Kenzo,” she teased, running her hands over him. “Shouldn’t you at least greet her properly?”
• The insult sliced deep, but I remained still.
• My hands clenched at her sides.
• The air around me seemed to tremble with restrained fury.
• When I finally stepped forward, my heels clicked sharply against the marble floor. The woman turned, expecting me to scream, to sob, to break down but my face was composed, calm, terrifyingly serene.
• I stopped two steps away, her eyes glacial.
• My silence spoke louder than words I’ve seen enough. Continue if you dare.
• A flicker of embarrassment flashed across the woman’s face. She turned to Kenzo, whispering with false sweetness, “Mister Ken, your fiancée is watching…”
• Kenzo paused, his expression unreadable as he studied me.
• He had wanted to provoke me, to see cracks in my mask. Yet, like always, I stood there graceful, unshaken, untouchable.
• Even now, after being publicly humiliated, I looked every bit the poised socialite i once was.
• And somehow, that infuriated him.
• “What are you doing just standing there?” he sneered. “Say something.”
• I lifted a hand, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and smiled faintly a calm, beautiful curve of my lips that was colder than winter air.
• “Since you told me to come,” she said softly, “I should at least be a good audience.”
• My voice was steady, elegant, controlled the perfect tone of a woman who refused to be diminished.
• Then I took out my phone and raised it slightly. “Perhaps I should take a photo to commemorate the occasion,” I added, tilting my head. “The CEO of Zeal up Entertainment Group caught in bed with a popular model. Imagine the headlines tomorrow.”
• The woman froze. “You!”
• Kenzo’s eyes darkened. “Naomi,” he warned.
• I smile didn’t waver. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure they get your best angle.”
• The woman paled. The casual confidence in my voice was worse than any threat. She could almost see her career her fame, her contracts burning to ash.
• “Get the hell off me,” Kenzo snapped suddenly, shoving the woman aside. “Leave.”
• “Kenzo!” she gasped, humiliated. But his glare left no room for argument.
• She snatched her clothes from the floor, threw me a hateful look, and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
• Silence filled the room.
• Kenzo rose slowly, his bare chest still glistening faintly with sweat. His jaw was tense. Without a word, he grabbed my phone and checked the screen but the only photo there was a simple shot of the sofa’s maroon corner.
• No evidence. No threat.
• He looked up. My expression was unreadable a faint sadness behind her calm eyes, a quiet disappointment that cut deeper than any accusation.
• For the first time in years, he felt… small.
• I stepped closer, placed a paper bag on the sofa, and spoke quietly.
• “The clothes you asked for,” I said. “I’ve brought them. Goodbye.”
• I turned to leave.
• Something inside Kenzo twisted painfully. Rage or perhaps something else flared in his chest. He couldn’t bear the thought of me walking away so effortlessly, so calmly, as if none of this mattered.
• “Naomi!” he barked, his voice sharp.
• Before I could reach the door, his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, pulling me back hard. My body hit the wall with a thud.
• “Kenzo, let go”
• He didn’t. His body pressed against mine , his eyes burning with something wild, wounded. His thumb brushed roughly against my lips as he whispered near my ear, his voice low and dangerous.
• “Don’t act like you’re above me,” he hissed. “You’re not angry? You’re not jealous? Or are you just miserable because I never touched you?”
• His breath was hot against my skin.
• “Let me satisfy you now.”
• I froze. The scent of alcohol and the other woman’s perfume clung to him. My heart pounded painfully, and my mind screamed at me to push him away. But his strength pinned me there, his shadow swallowing my whole.
• When his lips moved toward me , I turned my head sharply. His kiss landed on my neck instead rough, searing. My skin tingled from the contact, shame mixing with helplessness.
• For a fleeting moment, Kenzo hesitated.