Ember's POV
The first thing I felt was the sting in my throat.
Dry. Burned. Hollow.
The second was cold.
The silk sheets beneath me were too smooth, too expensive. The room smelled like cedarwood and smoke—masculine and unfamiliar. My head pounded like it had been cracked open and stitched back together with fire. I tried to move, but my limbs were heavy, like they didn't belong to me anymore. My body felt foreign.
And then… the third thing.
A deep, steady breath beside me.
My eyes flew open. My blood turned to ice.
A man lay half-covered by the sheets, his sculpted chest bare, his face chiseled and striking. Heartbreakingly familiar.
Because I had seen him before—on billboards, in magazines, in the news.
And once, just once, at Damian's house.
This was his older brother.
Ethan Hart.
The youngest billionaire in the country. Cold-blooded CEO of Hart Industries. Engaged to Veronica Chase.
And the man I had never meant to wake up beside.
Terror clawed its way up my spine as I yanked the sheet around my body. My breath came in sharp, panicked pieces.
What happened?
Flashes burned into my mind—fragmented, cruel.
A drink I didn't finish.
A woman's sweet, too-sweet smile.
Darkness.
Hands.
Laughter.
A door locking behind me.
Then—
A knock. Sharp. Urgent.
The bedroom door burst open. A man in a suit rushed in, pale-faced, holding a phone in his shaking hand.
Ethan stirred. He groaned, then sat up. When his eyes landed on me, they went from confused to furious in a heartbeat.
"You," he growled, his voice rough. "Why the hell are you in my bed?"
"I-I don't know," I whispered, trembling. "I swear, I don't remember anything—"
"Sir…" the suited man interrupted, voice tense. "The video. It's already gone viral."
Ethan sat bolt upright. The sheet slipped from his waist.
"What video?" he snapped.
The man swallowed hard. "A sex tape. Of you and her. It leaked last night. It's everywhere."
Ethan's eyes darkened as they turned back to me. His face was a mask of fury.
"I didn't do anything," I said shakily. "I don't even remember—"
"Call PR," he barked. "Get it erased."
The man looked down. "It's too late, sir. It's everywhere now."
The rage in Ethan's eyes burned like fire. He shot up, yanked the sheet around himself, and stomped over to me.
Before I could react, his hand wrapped around my wrist, tight and bruising.
"Get. Out."
I stumbled as he dragged me out of the bed. My heart slammed against my chest. I clutched the sheet tighter around me as he shoved me toward the door.
"I hate girls like you," he snarled. "Desperate. Clingy. Fame-hungry nobodies who'd sell their soul—and their body—for attention."
Tears burned behind my eyes. "Please… I don't even know how I got here—"
He didn't care.
He wasn't listening.
With a swift, furious motion, he grabbed my crumpled dress from the floor and flung it at me.
"Put it on and get out before I have security drag you out half-naked," he growled. "And trust me, they won't be gentle."
I stood frozen. The fabric slipped from my shaking hands. Humiliation wrapped around me like a second skin. Shame, heavy and suffocating, settled in my gut.
I had no memory. No explanation. Just a viral video… and the hatred in his eyes.
Days blurred into nights, and the weight of the world settled on my shoulders like chains.
I received the email three days after that night.
"We regret to inform you that your scholarship has been revoked due to misconduct unbecoming of a university candidate. Your admission stands canceled effective immediately."
Misconduct. That's what they called it. Like I had a choice. Like I asked for any of it.
My dreams—my future—were ripped away before they even began.
And then came the final blow.
My foster parents, the only family I had, turned their backs on me. The same people who had raised me with kindness and warmth suddenly looked at me like a stranger, like a stain they needed to scrub away.
"You embarrassed us," my foster mother whispered, refusing to meet my eyes. "People talk. Our sons… they won't even come visit now."
I stood outside their door with my bag and nowhere to go. The door shut behind me. Just like that, I was alone.
Technically, I was on the road now. No home. No money. No support.
Only shame.
Online, things were worse.
My face was everywhere. On every gossip site, every headline. Thousands of strangers screamed at me from behind their screens.
"Gold-digger."
"Homewrecker."
"Desperate slut who ruined Veronica and Ethan's love story."
"She planned this. You can see it in her eyes."
I stopped checking my phone. I stopped checking anything.
Because the world had decided who Ember Rose was.
Ethan Hart's POV
Veronica broke off the engagement.
Just like that.
No calls. No goodbyes. No explanations.
She didn't even flinch when she walked out of my life—straight into the arms of my so-called best friend, Lucian.
And me?
I was left with a tarnished name and a collapsing empire.
Every headline screamed scandal. Investors pulled out. Stocks dropped. And the board—my own father's voice among them—gave the verdict.
"Damage control. Immediate. Drastic."
Their solution? Marry the girl.
Marry Ember Rose.
The same girl I had thrown out wrapped in a bedsheet. The same girl who claimed innocence while destroying everything I had.
"She stays your wife for one year," my father said coldly. "Until the media forgets. Until the market stabilizes. Then you divorce her and walk away.
And I was going to propose to her.
That night, at the party. In front of everyone.
I had the ring. I had the words.
But fate?
Fate didn't just take that moment away. It burned it to ash.
Now she was tangled in my brother's life, in a scandal none of us saw coming. And I was left with nothing but guilt and a silent ache in my chest every time I looked at her.
"Ember," I said, stepping closer. "I swear, I'll find a way out of this for you."
She didn't speak. Just looked at me like I was the last piece of light in her collapsing world.