In the dim, hazy light, Amanda staggered toward the bed. The moment she collapsed onto the mattress, she felt an intense heat radiating beside her—like a furnace. Before she could process the sensation, a pair of strong arms pulled her into a firm embrace.
"Let me go!" she mumbled, her mind clouded by alcohol. She feebly punched at the solid chest pressing against her.
"Mandy..."
The low, tender call made her freeze. It was a voice from the past—a voice that seemed to echo the very last thing she heard before she died in her previous life. In a daze, she reached up to touch the face above her. "Who... who are you?"
Her question was silenced by a hot, lingering kiss.
Quentin Harris's eyes were bloodshot, his mind ravaged by the drug he had been slipped. He had lost all sense of restraint, operating on pure, raw instinct as he caressed the woman beneath him.
"Mandy," he whispered again.
Drunk and overwhelmed by the familiar warmth, Amanda didn't push him away. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, responding to the kiss with a desperate hunger of her own. Clothes were discarded in a frantic tangle. Sweat beaded on Quentin's forehead as he worshipped her body, his every touch making her bloom like a flower in a dream.
As they merged into one another, the sensation was so profound that Quentin didn't want to wake up. It was a night of beautiful, chaotic passion.
While the room was filled with heat, the internet was exploding into a different kind of fire.
The evidence of Javier Harris and Elena Lewis's secret affair had been leaked in full. Photos, chat logs, and financial records were being dissected by millions.
"Oh my god! Is he really a two-timer like this?"
"And Elena Lewis is a snake! Didn't she claim they were best friends in college?"
"Stealing your best friend's boyfriend is absolutely trashy."
"Wait, Amanda and Javier never went public. How do we know Elena stole him? Maybe Amanda is the homewrecker?"
"Look at the dates on these logs! Elena was with him while Amanda was in the hospital!"
Elena Lewis was being torn apart by the public. Amanda, meanwhile, was sleeping more soundly than she had in years—until she felt a heavy arm pull her tighter.
Amanda's eyes snapped open. She stared at the man beside her, her brain slowly piecing together the events of the night. Quentin woke at the same time, his dark eyes meeting hers.
1... 2... 3...
"AHHHHHHHHH!"
An earth-shattering scream tore through the room. Amanda scrambled back, pointing a trembling finger at him. "Why are you here?! Why are we... why are you NAKED?!"
Before Quentin could answer, she lunged at him, pinning him against the pillows. "I'll kill you! You bastard! You pervert!"
Quentin was still reeling. He knew he had been drugged, but he never imagined the woman in his arms had been her. Despite the shock, a secret, deep-seated joy flickered in his heart—though it was quickly dampened by the fact that she was currently trying to strangle him.
"Cough! Amanda... calm down!"
"Calm down?! You're in my room, you did this... this unspeakable thing, and you want me to calm down?!"
Quentin tried to pry her hands away, careful not to hurt her. "I can explain, but you have to let go first."
"In your dreams!"
Outside in the hallway, a group of confused reporters hovered. "Wait, both of these rooms are labeled 209? Where is 206?"
Before they could investigate the odd numbering, a wall of bodyguards swept in and shoved them toward the elevators. Behind them, Diego and his parents approached the door.
Diego signaled the manager to open the door to the room next to 205. As the lock clicked, Quentin's reflexes kicked in. He sat up, hauling Amanda into his chest and throwing the heavy duvet over both of them just as the door swung open.
"Close the door! NOW!" Quentin roared.
Diego turned pale, grabbed his parents, and slammed the door shut from the outside.
In the sudden silence, Amanda finally realized the gravity of their position—naked, tangled together, caught by her own family. She looked at Quentin with eyes like sharpened glass. Quentin felt the impending danger and tried to pull away, but he wasn't fast enough.
"Ungh!" Quentin let out a pained grunt as Amanda bit down hard on the side of his neck.
She didn't let go until she tasted blood. Her body began to tremble as tears finally spilled over, falling into the hollow of his shoulder. Quentin didn't move. He didn't dodge. He simply reached out and gently patted her back.
"Don't cry," he whispered.
But his comfort only made her sob harder. She had been so sure that her knowledge of the future made her invincible. Now, because of a stupid drunken mistake, she had ruined everything.
Half an hour later, the two of them sat in the living area of the suite, fully dressed but radiating tension. Amanda sat with her head bowed, refusing to look at anyone. Quentin sat beside her, calm and stoic, though the vivid, bleeding tooth marks on his neck were impossible to ignore.
The Solis family stared at them in stunned silence.
"I can only offer my deepest apologies," Quentin said, his voice steady. "I cannot explain the circumstances yet, but I will come to your home tomorrow to take full responsibility." He glanced at Amanda. "But first, we need to get Amanda out of here before the reporters find a way back in."
Kevin Solis nodded solemnly. Whatever had happened, their daughter's reputation was the priority.
But Amanda wasn't finished. She snapped, slapping Quentin's hand away as he tried to steady her. "Shut up! If it weren't for you, none of this would be happening!"
"Amanda, stop it," Diego interrupted, glaring at his sister. "It wasn't his fault. You're the one who walked into the wrong room and started acting like a brat."
Amanda froze. "The... the wrong room?"
She looked up at Quentin, her eyes traveling to the marks on his neck. A sudden, cold wave of guilt washed over her.
Diego sighed and turned to his parents. "Mom, Dad, take her home. I need to have a word with Quentin."