In the dead of night, the sky resembled a canvas of ink, a heavy curtain pulled across the darkness, oppressive and heavy. It was on the corridor of a five-star hotel in Athens where Veronica Brown stumbled along, her right hand clutching the wall, her knuckles slightly swollen with even the smallest drops of blood visible. She clutched her chest, her cheeks flushed, her gaze unfocused, her ebony hair matted with cold sweat, disheveled against her forehead. Her eyes were rimmed with red, her breathing rapid, her heartbeat racing as if it might leap from her throat. Furious shouts sounded from behind and the clamor of disordered footsteps. A middle-aged man with a battered face, one eye swollen black, burst from a room, his shirtless torso stained with bruises. He pointed at Veronica's retreating figure, his voice a howl of rage, "It's her! Get her back for me!"

At the entrance, two men rose from the ground, wiping blood from their mouths, their eyes fixed with malice on Veronica. This woman ran out of the room just now and knocked both of them down. Veronica staggered towards the elevator, only to find it paused on the first floor, a long wait ahead. Biting her lip, she turned instead into the adjacent emergency stairwell. Her head throbbed, her body felt like it was on fire, her heartbeat a drumbeat within her. She knew she had been set up. Consciousness was slipping away, her eyes began to glaze as she ascended the stairs. The footsteps behind her were relentless, echoing in her ears. She clenched her palm, trying to stay awake, her eyes burning red as if they would bleed at any moment.

She had no idea which floor she was on, but as she passed a room, the door ajar, she hesitated for a fraction of a second before pushing it open. The room was dark, the lights off, shadows draping the space. Before Veronica could react, she was seized from behind. Her scalp tingled, her hand reaching for the nerve in her assailant's neck, but he seemed to anticipate her move, pinning her arms high above her head. A cool, pleasing scent assailed her senses, a scent she knew all too well. His lips pressed against her, a storm of kisses fierce and overwhelming, robbing her of breath.

Just before her consciousness began to disperse, she caught a glimpse of his face in the faint moonlight filtering through the window. Her pupils constricted. She saw the red glow in his eyes, a wildness, a fierce aggression. He was like a beast suddenly released from its cage, hissing, ready to pounce. His gaze was wild and invasive, almost predatory. The subtle fragrance of her skin was a torment to his senses, his reason clouded by the drug, his actions guided only by his desire. The window was open, the curtains swaying in the breeze, casting a dim, ethereal light over the bed, the outlines blurred. Only the sounds of their rapid breathing and the muffled growls of restraint filled the air.

As the first light of dawn crept into the room, the silence returned. Veronica woke up, the morning sun streaming through the window, her mind reeling with the events of the night. She sat up, her gaze falling on the man beside her. His eyes were closed, his brow still sharp, his features deep and angular, his arm on the bed a testament to its strength. Her body ached, a reminder of what had transpired. She wrapped the sheet around her, her legs feeling weak as she rose from the bed, her steps unsteady as she made her way to the bathroom. Her pale face appeared in the mirror, her brows furrowed, her eyes bright and round like black grapes, her nose delicate, her lips swollen, her neck speckled with the marks of their encounter.

After a quick wash, Veronica returned to the bedroom, rummaging through the pile of messy clothes for her outfit. Her skirt was torn to shreds and couldn't be worn. In the end, she could only wrap herself in a bathrobe and pick up Alexander Jackson’s dark coat to put on. Once she was properly dressed, she crouched by the bed, her slender, fair fingers pressed to the man’s wrist. After a while, she withdrew her hand. As she had suspected, he had been drugged. Otherwise, given his character, he would never have succumbed to her so easily. The drug was potent, leaving one in agony if not relieved, causing great harm to the body. She smiled wryly, they had each satisfied their need, hadn't they?

When Veronica was about to leave, she couldn't help but turn back and press a gentle kiss to the corner of the man's mouth.

The December air was frigid. She wrapped the coat tightly around herself and left the hotel. After leaving, she fumbled in her pocket for her phone, her slender fingers swiftly navigating the screen.

It was around 8:00 in the morning when Alexander stirred from his sleep. His eyes snapped open, sharp and cold, as he gazed at the crimson stain on the pristine white sheets. He removed the covers and glanced down at himself, a frostiness creeping into his gaze. He had been drugged, and in his hazy recollections, he remembered clutching a body that was soft and sweetly fragrant, the scent overwhelming his senses, his desire for her insatiable.

The room held no trace of the woman's identity, and he noticed his coat was missing. She had slept with him and stolen his coat! Alexander dialed Gabriel Jackson's number, then sat before the computer, accessing the hotel's security footage.

Gabriel arrived swiftly, "Bro."

Alexander quickly spoke, "I was drugged. Last night, a woman broke into my room. I want you to find her!"

Gabriel paused, "Alex, did you...?"

Alexander didn't respond, his face a mask of displeasure. Gabriel's eyes couldn't help but sweep to the disheveled bed, and when he caught sight of the vivid red, his scalp tingled.

Shocked! His brother had finally lost his celibacy! Shouldn't he celebrate with a string of firecrackers?

Alexander added, "The hotel's security footage has been wiped."

Gabriel: "..."

The woman was bold. She had slept with his brother, helped him with the drug, and left no trace, her actions shrouded in mystery. Within five minutes, Gabriel had gathered useful information.

"Last night, the guest of room 1707 was beaten up, his face a mess. According to him, a fledgling celeb was 'delivered' to his room, but she didn't cooperate, and she beat him and his bodyguards up.

Neither the guest nor the bodyguards could see her face, and they didn't know who she was.

The two bodyguards chased her, but she disappeared on the 18th floor."

Their current location, the presidential suite, was on the 18th floor.

Gabriel took a deep breath, "That ‘no-name’ may have entered your room."

Alexander's face was like ice, "Find her! Dig her out even if it means turning this place upside down!"

Being slept with by a woman and then abandoned, without a trace left behind, was a profound humiliation for Alexander. Gabriel's curiosity was burning, so who was the woman who had shared his brother's bed?

….

Would they find her? Let's see.