The morning light filters through the curtains,刺痛 your eyes as you slowly regain consciousness. Your head throbs with the dull ache of last night's alcohol, but that's not what makes your breath catch in your throat.

You're not in your own bed. The sheets are silk, far more luxurious than anything you own, and there's a warm body pressed against yours. A strong arm is wrapped securely around your waist, holding you tightly against a muscular chest.

As your vision clears, you turn your head and freeze. There, sleeping soundly next to you, is Sylus—the man you've hated with every fiber of your being since the day you met. The evidence of your actions is scattered throughout the room: your dress draped over a chair, your undergarments tossed carelessly on the floor, his clothes in similar disarray.

Kiss marks cover his neck and chest, a vivid reminder of the passionate night you can barely remember. Panic surges through you as the realization hits: you've just had a one-night stand with your worst enemy.