Chapter 449

Bianca Savigny let the last drop of clear liquid fall into the humidifier, a satisfied smirk curling her lips. This expensive aromatic oil was said to drive men wild all night.

Her fingers trailed over her freshly spa-treated skin. Beneath the silk nightgown, her body burned with anticipation. After tonight, Ethan Roscente would finally realize who truly belonged in his arms.

One successful night was all she needed—just one night to conceive the Roscente heir.

Ethan emerged from the shower, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. He checked his watch. Two hours until the gala. Settling onto the sofa, he began sorting through emails.

The AC was set low, yet heat prickled under his skin. Sophia Lowell’s face flashed in his mind—those liquid eyes gazing up at him.

"Ethan?"

A sultry voice purred in his ear. His fingers clamped around a delicate wrist, the skin beneath his touch soft and feverish.

"Say it again," he rasped.

"Ethan..." Bianca melted against him, lashes damp with faux tears. "I feel... strange."

His grip tightened on her chin, dark desire flaring in his eyes. "Tell me what you need."

Her trembling fingers loosened his tie. "Be gentle with me..."

Moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains, painting fractured shadows across the carpet.

At 3 AM, Bianca stirred awake. Every aching muscle filled her with triumph. She had claimed the man of her dreams.

In the dim glow of her phone, she snapped a photo of their entangled bodies—his face half-buried in the pillow, but unmistakable. Proof.

Her thumb hovered over Sophia’s contact. Just as she tapped send, Ethan rolled over, pinning her beneath him.

The phone clattered to the floor, forgotten. In the whirlwind that followed, she never noticed the scheduled message counting down.

Across town, Sophia adjusted her drafting lamp, blue light flickering across her focused expression. Her phone buzzed.

An unknown number. An auto-loading image.

Ethan’s profile, crystal clear.