Chapter 3

After a night of passion, I had no idea how I even fell asleep. When I woke up, my head was pounding.

That alcohol from last night really packed a punch.

Rubbing my temples, I sat up and exhaled deeply.

Suddenly, a low, husky voice from behind startled me.

“Awake?”

I shuddered, feeling an overwhelming sense of anxiety, as though I’d been caught doing something wrong. Instinctively, I swallowed hard, pulling the blanket up to cover the intimate marks on my skin.

I forced an awkward smile and glanced at him, my mouth opening and closing before I finally managed to say, “Pierce…”

He was lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, his gaze intense and almost mischievous, as if he could see right through me.

“That’s not what you called me last night.”

My mind immediately flashed back to the madness of the night before, and my cheeks flushed with heat.

Did we really…?

He leaned down, burying his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply as if savoring my scent, the scent that only belonged to him. His soft hair brushed against my chin, and before I knew it, my hand was gently stroking his head, relishing the long-lost intimacy between us.

The warm sunlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains, casting a soft glow over the rumpled sheets.

In the center of the light was a stark, unmistakable stain of blood.

Pierce lifted his head, following my gaze, a fleeting expression of surprise crossing his face before he kissed my cheek gently. “Does it still hurt?”

Even the smallest change in his demeanor didn’t escape me—something was off about Pierce.

Noticing the doubt in my eyes, Pierce coughed lightly, and once again, his hand instinctively brushed his nose as he smiled. “Need me to remind you of what happened last night?”

That was when it hit me—the blood on the bed was proof of my virginity.

Flushing with embarrassment, I buried my face in my hands, too shy to speak.

Just then, Pierce’s gaze darkened, and he coughed again, pressing his lips together as if in thought.

He wrapped me snugly in the blanket before standing, turning his back to me as a faint cough escaped him again.

He hurriedly dressed, fumbling a bit in his haste—so much so that he nearly buttoned his shirt unevenly until I pointed it out.

This wasn’t like the calm and collected Pierce I knew.

As I watched him walk away, I couldn’t help but ask, “Pierce, what’s going on with you?”

His body tensed, but he quickly turned and walked back over to me.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a little cold. I need to head to the office for a bit. Be good and stay home.”

I watched his retreating figure with suspicion. Was something wrong at his company?

After getting into the car, Pierce pulled out the medication hidden in the corner and swallowed it dry, which only triggered a more violent coughing fit.

The bitter taste spread through his mouth as he stared in despair at the blood staining his palm.