Vincent Carlisle stood in the doorway, steam rising behind him. A towel was wrapped low around his waist, water dripping down his chest. His damp hair clung to his forehead.He glanced at the coat rack in her hands. Then, in the nightdress, on the couch.His face darkened.“You’re still dressed?” His voice turned sharp. “I gave you ten minutes to take those clothes off. If you don’t, I’ll have my men do it for you—and you know I have quite a few.”Rosalind’s face turned pale.“Why aren’t you taking off your clothes?!” Vincent demanded, brows furrowing in anger. His gaze roamed her body, and he licked his lips. Just seeing her dressed was already turning him on—and he couldn’t wait to see what was underneath.“Why would I take them off?” she retorted. “I said I’ll do anything else apart from this.”A deep frown spread across his face. The towel around his waist barely held, and his cold gaze swept over Rosalind with hunger.His smile twisted. “You really thought I was bluffing?”Rosalin

Sean straightened slowly, rolling his shoulder like none of it had fazed him. The men outside were down, unconscious, and not getting up anytime soon. Which meant nothing was stopping him now.His eyes flicked to the wide-eyed receptionist behind the glass doors. The moment she saw him looking, she ducked under her desk like he might breathe fire.He didn’t stop.He marched straight into the building.Another guard came running down the hall. “Hey! You can’t be in here!”Sean didn’t even pause—he grabbed the man by the collar, slammed his head against the wall, and kept walking. The body slid to the floor like a sack of flour.Staff screamed. Papers flew. Some backed away fast. Others bolted for the elevator, smacking buttons in panic just to get away.Sean walked up to the front desk and slammed his palm down.“Tell Vincent Carlisle,” he said, voice calm but laced with promise, “Sean is coming.”Then he turned and headed for the elevator. But the doors didn’t open.Instead, footsteps

Rosalind, who had been watching the whole thing, widened her eyes in shock. She hadn’t expected Sean to hit Vincent at all. They were supposed to be here, trying to get Vincent to tell them what he wanted as compensation, not beat him up.But after everything he had done to her—and almost did—she no longer cared. In fact, she wanted Sean to hit him even more.“So, I just have to hit you to my satisfaction before the 350 men arrive, right?” Sean asked, his fist still clenched as he stared down at Vincent, who had fallen flat on his butt from just one punch.With a palm over his bleeding nose, Vincent looked up at Sean—his eyes wide, the arrogance drained from his face.For the first time, pure fear flickered in his gaze.He hadn’t thought Sean would hit him. But now, looking up at the man towering over him like a storm waiting to break, he realized—he had judged him completely wrong.“What are you doing?” Vincent asked, scooting backward on his butt, eyes locked on Sean. “How dare you h

The leader didn’t even look back as he fled—he just ran. Arms flailing, breath ragged, panic fueling every step.If he had known Sean was coming, he would’ve quit his job two weeks ago and left town entirely.Fighting? That was no longer an option. His only chance now… was his legs. The faster they carried him, the better his odds of staying alive.Seeing the same leader—who had gotten them into the mess in the first place—flee like a coward sparked chaos.Everyone stopped fighting, turned around, and started running for their dear lives. If the strongest among them had taken off, what chance did they have?“Why are you all coming with me?!” the fleeing leader demanded, increasing his pace. He might’ve shouted for them to run, but that didn’t mean they should run with him.Yet here they were, stampeding after him, making it look like a group marathon.Since they were running with him, Sean would have no one else to fight and could easily wipe them all out.“Stop running and fight!” the

When Vincent’s eyes opened, he found himself staring up at a white ceiling.The lights were too bright. Sterile. Cold. He blinked a few times, his vision blurry, then slowly turned his head.A sharp bolt of pain shot down his neck.“Argh—” he groaned, wincing immediately.His throat was dry. His lips were cracked. And the more he tried to move, the more he realized just how much of his body ached.“What the hell…?”He tried to sit up, but that thought died quickly when fire spread through his ribs, making him collapse back onto the hospital bed with a harsh gasp.For a moment, he just lay there, staring at the ceiling again.Was it… a dream?He closed his eyes, trying to piece together the fragments. The office. Rosalind. That bastard Sean. The punch. The blood. The alarm. The guards rushed over after he’d hit the emergency button.Then that grin. That terrifying grin Sean had right before the chaos started.Vincent’s eyes snapped open. He flinched.No…His heart began to pound.It was