Yvonne Sterling blinked awake and realized she was lying in a bed she had never seen before.

Her mind felt like it was lagging behind as she scanned the room, trying desperately to piece together what happened last night.

There’d been a department dinner.

She’d had… yeah, definitely a couple drinks too many.

And after that…

All at once, a man’s heavy, uneven breathing flooded back into her ears, sharp and vivid like some messed‑up nightmare replay.

She instantly shook her head, forcing those fragments out. No way she was staying here another second.

She grabbed the torn white shirt from the floor, staring at it with a mix of shame and collapse.

Great. Like she could actually walk out wearing *that* joke of a shirt.

Just when she was spiraling, she noticed a neatly placed business suit by the bed.

Obviously left there on purpose. Obviously by *him*.

She didn’t even hesitate—just put it on. It didn’t fit quite right, clearly a last‑minute “whatever works” purchase.

When she checked the mirror, her neck and face were spotless, but everything below her collarbone was covered in marks that made her scalp go numb.

Wow.

What a thoughtful guy.

Trying to make sure nobody sees he hooked up with someone, huh?

Yvonne let out a helpless sigh and stepped out of the bathroom, taking in the room again.

Huge space. Clean to the point of being creepy.

It looked like a hotel, but… not quite. Something was off.

She grabbed her bag from the nightstand and rushed toward the door.

Definitely not a hotel.

The moment she opened it, a wide living room spread out before her.

And then—she froze.

A familiar figure slid right into her line of sight.

He was lounging on the sofa, headphones on, a laptop propped on his lap with a pillow under it. Dressed in loose black loungewear, he looked like he was having the most relaxed morning in the universe.

At the sound of the door opening, he lifted his eyes—dark, calm, impossible to read.

She finally registered who the man in front of her was—her boss, Sebastian Blackwell.

Wasn’t he supposed to be the legendary “ascetic CEO”?

But judging from last night… ascetic? Yeah right. More like a starving wolf finally let off the leash.

Yvonne Sterling was so stunned she couldn’t get a single word out, but Sebastian spoke first.

“I’m in a meeting.” His voice was low, calm, almost too steady.

She instantly shut up, instantly understanding that he was basically telling her not to make a sound.

“Come have breakfast.”

He leaned forward slightly, long fingers nudging the honey water toward the spot across from him.

He didn’t realize that when he bent down, the cluster of faint red marks on his neck was aimed right at the camera—letting every executive in that meeting get a full, high-definition view.

Yvonne’s face went tomato-red. Those marks… probably her masterpiece from last night. So she was that… “capable,” huh?

God, if only this were a hotel, she could bolt straight home.

She sat down stiffly, not daring to meet his eyes, quietly sipped the honey water, and nibbled on a sandwich identical to his.

Sebastian was infamous for being cold—cold personality, cold temper, whole vibe just pure glacier.

Yeah… she had definitely hit a steel plate.

She must’ve gotten into the wrong car last night.

But even if she did, he was the CEO. How could he not recognize his own employee?

And sleeping with a subordinate—wasn’t he worried it’d blow up his reputation?

Fifteen minutes later, he wrapped up the meeting, closed his laptop, and unhurriedly started on his own breakfast.

“Sorry. Didn’t realize it was your first time. I was a little rough.” Same freezing tone, like he was giving performance feedback. Not a single change in his expression.

“Cough—” Yvonne, who’d finally calmed down a tiny bit, felt her face light up again like someone turned on a heater.

It already happened, okay? Can we not bring it up again? Please?

"The family doctor will be here soon. Just wait a bit before you head back," he said.

Oh my god. Was this… a cleanup operation right after the deed?

Was he worried she'd end up pregnant with his kid and come for a slice of the Blackwell inheritance?

After finishing the honey water, Yvonne Sterling picked up the glass of milk beside her and sipped it slowly, totally clueless about how she was supposed to respond.

He, on the other hand, ate like he had a fast‑forward button—done in seconds.

"Stay here. I need to head to the office. Andrew Winslow will drive you home."

Yvonne instantly panicked. "Mr. Blackwell, I can go back on my own, really. No need to trouble anyone."

"You think I didn’t do well enough last night, is that it?" He lifted his eyes, looking up at her with this helpless, pitiful expression.

"What?!"

Yvonne’s heart practically leapt out of her chest.

Think that? She wouldn’t dare!

Her brain lagged, totally frozen on how to respond.

It was honestly the first time someone had shut her up so completely just with words.

If he weren’t her boss, she’d already have roasted him so hard he’d lose the ability to talk for a week.

"Mr. Blackwell, Dr. Nan is here," an older maid reminded gently from the side.

He didn’t answer—just kept staring at Yvonne.

And Yvonne really was stunning. Fair, delicate skin, that natural blond hair that always stood out—a signature of her mixed heritage. She was the kind of beautiful that made people forget to blink.

Her figure was amazing too, basically the textbook definition of a perfect girlfriend.

Being stared at like that, she felt her whole body tense up. Her cheeks, already flushed, were now burning hot.

"Come with me," Sebastian Blackwell finally said, letting out a quiet sigh.

Yvonne Sterling followed along without a peep. What else could she do? She’d somehow gotten herself tangled up with this big shot in the fashion world.

Walking back into the room where everything had gone down last night, her heart thumped like it was trying to escape. Just one glance at the bed made her palms go slick with sweat.

But the “crime scene” had already been completely cleaned up by the maid from earlier—spotless, like nothing ever happened.

A female doctor walked in. Sebastian Blackwell stepped out right after, even closing the door for her, quiet and thoughtful.

Yvonne thought she was about to be given some emergency pill or a shot or something. Nope.

It was… a check-up. Down there. And medication.

She nearly died from embarrassment on the spot. Someone else having to deal with the “aftermath” of last night? Just kill her now.

But, well… the ointment really did help.

She covered her face the whole time, wishing she could evaporate on command.

When she finally came out, Sebastian was gone.

Only Andrew Winslow was waiting for her.

Andrew was the same age as her—twenty‑two. Same university, same graduating class, even interviewed and got hired the same day. They just ended up in different roles.

He was Sebastian’s one and only assistant—a ridiculously reliable right-hand man.

Standing by the car, Yvonne stared at him through gritted teeth. He was sitting in the driver’s seat grinning like an idiot. Her dignity? Absolutely shattered. She honestly wanted to curl up and disappear.

Once she got in, she locked her eyes on the window, voice low and bleak. “Did I… get into the wrong car last night?”

“Nope, future Mrs. Blackwell,” Andrew teased, then launched right into it, animated as ever.

“I’ve known you for years, and I’ve never seen you that wasted. You got into the wrong car, then hurled yourself straight onto the boss—kept calling him ‘Big White’ and kissing him like you were possessed. Seriously, you were unstoppable.”

“The boss had a bit to drink too, but he didn’t dare move. You know how he is with germs. And guess what—you tore his shirt. Buttons flying everywhere.”

“…,” she hung her head, mentally replaying the disaster while wanting to scream.

“We were gonna take you home, but then we remembered you live alone. Boss said you’d never manage by yourself, so he just brought you back to his place.”

"Heh… yeah." She forced out an awkward little laugh.

"So, you and the boss actually…" Andrew Winslow looked her up and down, his gaze like he was trying to read last night’s gossip off her face.

To be fair, Sebastian Blackwell really was annoyingly cautious. Her neck was spotless, not even the slightest mark.

"You get it, right?" She pointed at her completely clean neck.

"Looks like our boss is way too much of a gentleman."

"Yeah… suuure." She dragged out the word.

Gentleman. Fake gentleman, more like—

Yvonne Sterling didn’t let Andrew drive her all the way to the company entrance. Showing up in the boss’s car first thing in the morning? That kind of gossip would spread to the heavens.

She hopped out a block away from the office and quickly slipped into a nearby pharmacy to buy emergency contraception.

She wasn’t sure if he’d used protection last night, and honestly, she didn’t have the energy to think it through. She’d only feel at ease after taking it.

Just then, her phone rang out of nowhere.

Caller ID: her current boyfriend, Keith Lawson.