“Serena, think it over one more time. This is five million. All you have to do is spend one night with the second young master of the Whitfield family.”

Serena Caldwell said nothing. After a long while, she finally reached out and picked up the dress beside her, the kind with barely enough fabric to count as clothing.

It wasn’t for anything else.

Her father’s medical bills couldn’t wait.

The hotel manager saw her give in and instantly smiled, lowering his voice. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep this under wraps. Blaine Harrington won’t find out.”

Serena shook her head. “I’ll break up with him.”

If she did something like this, there was no way she could get past it morally, let alone stay with Blaine like nothing had happened.

After changing clothes, Serena sent Blaine a breakup text and stepped into the private elevator.

The top-floor suite was cold and luxurious, all sharp edges and expensive silence, but Serena didn’t spare it a second glance. Not even the man sitting with his back to her in front of the floor-to-ceiling window.

He stayed silent the whole time.

Serena lowered her head and asked first, “So... do we start right away, or should I go shower first?”

In the dead-quiet room, a faint sound broke the silence.

The man had risen and was walking toward her.

When he got close, Serena caught a light cedar scent on him, clean and crisp, but with that icy edge that made people instinctively tense up.

Then her chin was suddenly gripped.

She was forced to lift her face.

The moment their eyes met, Serena’s pupils widened hard, like she’d been struck by lightning.

“How is it you?!”

A flood of memories crashed through her mind like a fast-forward reel, spinning all the way back nineteen years, to when she was only six.

The nanny had just returned from her hometown, holding the hand of an eight-year-old boy. Her face was full of gratitude as she said, “Thank you, sir, ma’am, for giving Ah-Yun the chance to study here in the city. I really don’t even know how to repay you.”

Then she led the little boy in front of Serena and reminded him gently, “Ah-Yun, this is the little Miss Xinxin I told you about. From now on, you have to take good care of her, okay?”

The two children looked at each other.

One was spoiled and proud, carrying the sharp little arrogance of a girl raised in comfort.

The other was nervous and stiff, a boy who had just arrived in a big city and clearly didn’t know where to put his hands.

And now, after all these years, everything had flipped.

He was the one standing high above everyone else.

But... wasn’t his name Nathan Ellison?

How had he become the “second young master Whitfield” everyone was talking about?

Compared to her shock, Nathan Whitfield looked far calmer.

His face didn’t change at all as he looked down at her. When he spoke, every word was laced with mockery. “Didn’t expect after all these years, Miss Caldwell would end up this low.”

Years of butting heads kicked in like muscle memory, and Serena Caldwell fired back without even thinking, “And a guy who pays to pick women up is supposed to be some kind of saint?”

Nathan Whitfield’s hand slid slowly from her chin to the back of her head. His wrist pressed down, firm and controlled, and the space between them vanished in an instant. Their noses were almost touching.

His eyes were cold enough to freeze the air. The whole man carried that crushing, superior kind of pressure. “Miss Caldwell, when you dumped me so heartlessly back then, did you ever think there’d be a day like this?”

Serena pressed her lips tight. “That was years ago. I don’t remember much.”

“Oh, really.”

“Yes. When I was seventeen, I had an accident. About a year before and after that—I barely remember any of it.”

Nathan let out a short laugh, sharp and full of contempt. “After all this time, that’s the lame excuse you came up with?”