My fingers tighten around the phone 101

Ethan’s POV
I woke to a jackhammer pounding against my skull, the agonizing throb pulsing in perfect rhythm with the strange hum
of an air conditioner I didn’t recognize. My eyelids felt welded shut, impossibly heavy. The charity gala, the opera, the
endless handshakes—all clear in my memory until… nothing.
I ran my tongue along the roof of my mouth and nearly winced at the sensation—like dragging sandpaper across desert
rock. My throat burned with thirst, each swallow a painful reminder of how desperately I needed water. When I finally
managed to lick my cracked lips, an odd herbal bitterness coated my tongue, crawling down my throat.
“No, the phone is right here on our nightstand. I told you we spent the night together. Should I ask him to call you back
when he wakes up?”
Emma’s voice sliced through my confusion, her words dripping with smug satisfaction that made my stomach clench
even before I fully processed what she was saying. Who the hell was she talking to? And more importantly—why was
Emma’s voice so close, as if she were right beside me?
Panic jolted through me like an electric current. My hand shot out, groping blindly across what was unmistakably
bedsheets. The weight of dread settled in my chest as my fingers confirmed what my brain refused to accept—I was in a
bed, and Emma’s voice wasn’t just nearby, it was right next to me.
“Emma?” I asked hoarsely, my dry mouth making it almost impossible to speak. I desperately sucked on my cheeks,
trying to produce enough saliva to moisten my parched mouth. I really needed water.
“Good morning, darling.” Emma purred in what she clearly thought was a seductive voice. It only scraped against my
nerves.
I ignored her term of endearment, though her voice made me somewhat nauseous. I needed to figure out what was
going on, so I opened my eyes, hissing curses at the blinding sunlight. It pierced through and burned my retinas. I
cleared my throat again, “What time is it?”
“One moment,” Emma chirped, her voice sickeningly sweet as I felt the mattress shift beneath her weight. I froze, my
entire body going rigid with horror. The pounding in my head intensified as reality crashed over me like ice water—she wasn’t just nearby, she was literally sharing a bed with me.
I forced my eyes open despite the stabbing pain of sunlight, throwing my arm across my face with a hiss as my vision
swam with dancing black spots. Slowly, painfully, the room came into focus through the gaps between my fingers—
unfamiliar cream-colored walls, designer furniture, and clothing scattered across plush carpet. My vision cleared enough
to reveal my own bare legs stretched out on Emma’s satin sheets, and a wave of nausea rolled through me that had
nothing to do with my headache.
No, that wasn’t entirely true. There was something else, a flash of memory: silky raven hair, a glimpse of crimson fabric.
My heart lurched painfully in my chest. Aria? I could have sworn I’d seen her, but the details slipped away like water
through my fingers. None of this made any sense.
“Just after 7 o’clock.” Emma sat up, tucking her feet underneath her bottom. I glanced over to find that she was also
naked. I scanned the room, seeing the red sequined gown Emma had worn last night. It was now discarded on the floor,
along with whatever lacy undergarments she’d been wearing beneath it. Damn it. What the hell had happened last night?
“Emma.” I rasped, my throat begging for water. Emma’s eyes widened, and she grinned. She bounced off the bed and
darted out of the room. I took several deep breaths, trying to remember what had happened, but everything after
running into Emma near the bathroom at the charity gala was as dark as I thought it would be. That didn’t make any
fucking sense either.
Emma bounced back into the room, grinning as she handed me a glass of water. I stared at the glass, flashing back to the
only thing I’d had to drink last night—the sparkling water she’d handed me in the limousine. I narrowed my eyes at her,
demanding, “What the hell happened?”
“What do you mean?” Emma tilted her head slightly, frowning. She placed her hands behind her back, thrusting her
round, fake breasts toward me.
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I glared at her, gripping the water glass so tightly I nearly crushed it, not in the mood for games. “Don’t play dumb with
me. What happened? Why am I naked in your bed?”
Emma’s face split into a triumphant grin, her eyes glittering with excitement as if she’d just won some grand prize. She
tossed her blonde hair with a dramatic flick of her wrist and leaned toward me, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial
whisper.
“You were absolutely wild last night,” she purred, batting her eyelashes. “I was just coming out of the ladies’ room at the
opera when you grabbed me—couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.” She bit her lower lip, clearly savoring every word.
“Just like that night six years ago. You practically carried me to the limo, tearing at my clothes the whole way.” She
paused, her eyes raking over me. “Such a change from how cold you were earlier, but I’m not complaining. You were even
better than I remembered—so tender yet so… passionate.”
Before I could process her words, Emma shifted her weight, her naked thigh sliding over mine as she moved to straddle
me. The contact sent a wave of revulsion through my body so intense that bile rose instantly in my throat. I shoved her
away with more force than necessary, stumbling out of bed as my stomach violently contracted.
I barely reached the toilet before my body convulsed, emptying the meager contents of my stomach into the porcelain
bowl. That same bitter, herbal taste coated my tongue and scorched the back of my throat as I retched. Through the fog
of nausea, a moment of clarity struck me like lightning—I recognized this taste now. Wolfsbane.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and staggered to my feet, rage building inside me like a gathering storm. When I stormed back into the bedroom, Emma had rearranged herself on the bed, lying on her side with one hand
propping up her head, her body deliberately displayed in what she clearly thought was an enticing pose.
“Darling?” she cooed, her face a mask of fabricated concern. “Are you feeling alright?”
Ignoring her nakedness took zero effort on my part, “You fucking drugged me?”
Emma sat up with a jerk, her face arranging itself into an offended expression, voice quavering, “How could you! How
could you say such a thing?”
“Then why can’t I remember anything after seeing my grandmother and Leo last night?” I spat, baring my canines.
“How should I know?” she stammered, putting on that pitiful expression again, “You were obviously drunk when you
pounced on me!”
“I wasn’t drinking at all!” I roared, looking around for my clothes. I was done with lies, drama, and bullshit. It was exactly
this kind of stunt that made Aria not speak to me. “The only thing I drank was that sparkling water you handed me in the
limo. So I’m asking you one more time. What the fuck did you drug me with?”
Emma blinked, dropping two tears. I was really tired of her tricks, and she opened her mouth, but only a hoarse “ah”
escaped.
I didn’t want to be here, didn’t care what lies she fabricated. Once I was fully dressed, I searched my pockets for my
phone, wallet, and car keys. I found the latter two but not my phone, which made the hair on the back of my neck stand
up.
I whirled on Emma, growling, “Where the fuck is my phone?”