The first time they met, Cole looked at Anne coldly and said, "This is the first and the last time." But after the second and third time, Anne cursed in her heart: Damn men. Never trust a word they say. Many years later, as Cole watched Anne sleeping beside him, he let out a sigh: Indeed, you should never be with the same woman more than three times. Otherwise, you're doomed. A story that began as a transaction but led to a choice of love-only wishing... to never forget the original intention. Anne was chosen by Cole at first glance because she resembled his first love. At the time, it was Anne's first time working as a escort, doing so to afford the medical expenses for the grandmother who had raised her. After a night of passion, Cole suspected he had been set up-because he never touched women so easily, especially escort. Seeing Anne's resemblance to his first love, his guard against her was at its peak. However, when Anne was nearly assaulted by a perverted client, Cole stepped in just in time to save her. Under Cole's protection, Anne remained a escort but rarely suffered any harassment. Yet, because of her resemblance to his first love, Anne always suspected-was she just a mere substitute in his eyes?
Chapter 1 Relax
That night, in the presidential suite of the L&C Hotel in Chicago, Anne bit her lip, yet she couldn't completely suppress the soft moans escaping her. The man on top of her had been domineering from the moment they entered the room, kissing her as if he wanted to devour her whole. But just a few hours ago, he had been cold and indifferent.
"Don't bite." His lips brushed against her ear, his voice husky with desire.
"I... I..." Anne stammered, unable to form a complete sentence. A fine layer of sweat covered her forehead. It was her first time, and making such sounds made her feel ashamed. But under his relentless actions, an unfamiliar sensation slowly swelled within her.
"Call my name," he commanded.
"W-What?" Anne's voice trembled. Realizing his intentions, she nervously clutched his firm arm. "Cole, can... can you be gentler?"
Hearing this, Cole paused for a moment. He hadn't expected her to say that. Raising his head slightly, he looked at her flushed face. For some reason, he really did slow down his movements.
"Mm..." She bit her lower lip hard. The taste of blood quickly spread in her mouth.
Just as the pain became unbearable, she felt him stop. Moments later, her lips were pried open, forcing her to endure an inexperienced yet intense kiss. He also took hold of her hand, preventing her from resisting.
"Relax," Cole whispered in her ear.
But Anne couldn't relax-it hurt too much. By the time she finally started adjusting, she instinctively wanted to bite her lip again, only for him to capture her lips in another possessive kiss, leaving her no chance to do so.
Anne felt only pain. Cole had given her a few minutes to adjust at the beginning, but soon, she started to feel a foreign pleasure rise from deep within her body. She couldn't control the sounds escaping her lips. Even as she tried to stifle them, she failed. Wrapped tightly in his embrace, she clung to him like a drowning person holding onto a lifeline.
She had no idea how many times it happened that night. Anne only vaguely remembered that Cole seemed tireless. By the time he finally stopped after one last deep thrust, she felt utterly spent.
She faintly remembered being carried into the bathtub, his hands carefully washing her. She wanted to tell him that she could bathe herself, but she had no strength left. Sleep quickly overtook her.
After placing her back in bed, Cole stepped into the outer room, lighting a cigarette. He picked up his phone and made a call. Though it was already past 3 a.m., the call was answered almost immediately.
"President Campbell," the voice on the other end greeted.
"Find out who orchestrated tonight's events. And investigate this woman," Cole ordered coldly.
"Yes, sir."
Ending the call, Cole smoked while gazing at the city lights outside. Though it was late at night, the high-rises in Chicago's CBD were still illuminated. His expression was unreadable as he recalled the night's events.
Tonight's gathering had been arranged by Xander. The woman had been chosen for him. But Cole didn't believe Xander would drug his drink.
He had just returned to the country yesterday. Half a month ago, Xander had mentioned that a woman at Blue Sea Gulf bore a striking resemblance to Adele. The first time she arrived, he had noticed her immediately. Xander had paid to keep her there for Cole. Cole had dismissed it as nonsense, yet here he was, dragged into this meeting.
Seeing Anne in person, he had to admit that under her makeup, there was indeed a slight resemblance. When she was pushed into his seat, she looked uneasy, her short skirt making her uncomfortable as she kept pulling at the hem. Sensing her nervousness, he had someone bring her a small blanket. She was so surprised that she kept thanking him, and as soon as she covered herself, she let out a quiet sigh of relief.
The private room was filled with more than ten people, all drinking and playing games. Aside from Xander and Ronan, none of them dared to force Cole to drink, so they turned to Anne instead. When Cole left for the restroom, Anne had been drinking, her cheeks already flushed with intoxication.
As he returned and told Xander he was leaving, Xander pushed Anne toward him. "She's for you. Take her."
Cole had initially planned to refuse. But when he turned to see her slightly drunken, rosy face, he frowned. If he didn't take her, she would end up with someone else tonight. On a whim, he agreed.
His original plan was to drop her off, give her some money, and be done with it. But before leaving, he had finished his last drink.
His eyes darkened as he recalled what followed. Returning to the bed, he looked down at Anne, who was still sleeping restlessly, her brows slightly furrowed.
At the time, the drug in his system had made rational thought difficult. He had noticed her inexperience-she didn't even know how to kiss. But in that moment, he hadn't cared.
Women in clubs often pretended to be innocent. However, when he entered her, he realized the truth-she had been a virgin.
Forcing himself to slow down, he had watched as she tightly shut her eyes, biting her lip so hard it bled. He had leaned down, unable to resist kissing her, tasting the iron tang of her blood. That moment had brought a brief clarity to his mind.
But in the end, he had lost control. He had no idea how many times he took her. The drug had played a role, but so had his own instincts. Seeing her teary, red-rimmed eyes, watching her bite her lips in a futile attempt to suppress her cries-it had made him want to kiss her even more.
Anne shifted in her sleep, exposing the marks he had left all over her pale skin. Cole's gaze fell on the bed, where a faint trace of red remained.
Though he had already suspected it, actually seeing that stain made his brows lift slightly.
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