ONLY YOU 2

Waking up in a luxurious hotel room, Tisha Stewart finds herself in a red, skin-tight gown, disoriented and with a gaping hole in her memory. The last thing she remembers is trying to unravel the mystery of her father's sudden death. Now, a sleazy stranger is closing in, and her only escape is a desperate, frantic run. But the hotel holds more than just danger; it holds Spencer Grant, the enigmatic billionaire she once admired. Their accidental collision plunges Tisha into a web of mistaken identities, perilous secrets, and an unexpected, fiery intimacy that changes everything. Can she outrun her past and untangle herself from a fate she never chose?

ONLY YOU 2

Waking up in a luxurious hotel room, Tisha Stewart finds herself in a red, skin-tight gown, disoriented and with a gaping hole in her memory. The last thing she remembers is trying to unravel the mystery of her father's sudden death. Now, a sleazy stranger is closing in, and her only escape is a desperate, frantic run. But the hotel holds more than just danger; it holds Spencer Grant, the enigmatic billionaire she once admired. Their accidental collision plunges Tisha into a web of mistaken identities, perilous secrets, and an unexpected, fiery intimacy that changes everything. Can she outrun her past and untangle herself from a fate she never chose?

The crimson glow of the neon sign outside pulsed through the hotel room's heavy curtains, casting a lurid light on Tisha Stewart. Her head throbbed, a dull, insistent ache behind her eyes, as she slowly blinked them open.

Disorientation clung to her like the cheap perfume that seemed to saturate the air. She was on a bed, the sheets silk, the pillows plush, a stark contrast to the short, revealing red gown clinging to her skin. Her gaze swept the opulent room, a jumble of gilded furniture and abstract art, none of it familiar.

She pushed herself up, a wave of dizziness threatening to topple her, and stumbled towards a full-length mirror. The reflection that stared back was a stranger – thick, garish makeup, oddly styled hair, and those impossibly high heels that screamed 'whore'. A gasp escaped her lips as fragmented memories began to surface, chilling her to the bone.

Fear, cold and sharp, pierced through the haze. Her eyes darted around, searching for anything, a weapon, an escape. A lamp beside the bed, its base heavy, felt reassuringly solid in her trembling hand. Just as her fingers closed around it, a faint click echoed from the door. Someone was coming.