Kylie Cooper was Jonathan Sinclair's lover for three years. After they broke up, she became his executive assistant.

Jonathan treated her coldly and mocked her with sarcasm.

Kylie said, "You used me as a stand-in before. Now that she's back, please let me go."

However, Jonathan was confused. "A stand-in? I've only ever loved you..."

"Now that you're here, get to work. Change into your uniform and head straight to V8."

Kylie Cooper took the uniform from Lily Smith and turned toward the dressing room.

Lily sized her up as she walked away. It had been over three years since they last met, and the young woman had only become more enchanting with time.

What surprised Lily, though, was that Kylie was willing to return to this line of work.

This was a newly opened high-end club in the city of Jorundale. Kylie had taken a job here as a hostess, serving drinks and taking song requests in private rooms for the clients. The club catered to the city's elite—young, rich men who spent big. The tips they gave could be pretty substantial.

Kylie was short on cash, and this hostess job seemed like a decent part-time gig.

The club's uniform was daring and borderline revealing—tight, low-cut shirts paired with skirts that barely reached the tops of her thighs. One wrong move, and it was easy for everything underneath to show.

Looking at her own reflection in the mirror, Kylie felt a twinge of self-consciousness. She instinctively tugged the skirt down a bit, adjusting the loose strands of hair falling in front of her face. Then, she made her way to the V8 room.

V8 was the largest private room in the club. Kylie opened the door and was immediately hit by a mix of cigar smoke and expensive perfume—an atmosphere of wealth and desire.

It was Samuel Quinton's birthday celebration tonight, and his family was a prominent name in Jorundale. Naturally, the event was lavish, attended by high society figures and rising stars from the entertainment world.

Kylie silently crouched beside the guests, refilling drinks one by one.

She squatted slowly, one hand holding the bottle, the other instinctively pressing against her chest.

Suddenly, the door to the room swung open. The chatter in the room quieted. Samuel, the birthday boy, stood up from the sofa and walked to the door to greet the newcomer.

"Bro, you're finally here!" Samuel called.

"Had some work at the company," came the reply.

Kylie's hand trembled slightly as she poured. With her back to the door, she hadn't seen who had entered, but the voice was unmistakable.

"See? I didn't dare cut the cake until you got here," Samuel added, gesturing to a massive five-layer cake in the center of the room.

The man chuckled softly before walking in.

"It's Jonathan Sinclair. Mr. Sinclair has arrived," someone murmured.

The others quickly rose to their feet, giving Jonathan a respectful seat at the center of the room.

Even though it was Samuel's birthday, Jonathan was given the prime spot.

Kylie stood up too, lowering her head and stepping into the shadows near the wall.

Jonathan leaned back on the sofa, his posture relaxed. But when his eyes landed on Kylie, his brow furrowed slightly, a hint of displeasure crossing his face.

Noticing the tension, Samuel assumed it was a dissatisfaction with the service. He quickly tapped his fingers on the glass tabletop and turned to Kylie.

"Why aren't you serving Mr. Sinclair his drink yet?"

Kylie hadn't expected to run into Jonathan here. She kept her head lowered and refused to look up, then replied in a soft voice, "The bottle's empty. I'll get a new one."

With that, she hurriedly backed out of the room, silently praying that Jonathan hadn't recognized her.

But, of course, she didn't escape Jonathan's sharp gaze.

Jonathan stood and followed her out of the room, blocking her path in the hallway.

"What's this? It's only been a few days, and you're pretending not to know me already?" His eyes were dark, his words laced with contempt.

Kylie turned her face away and answered quietly, "Mr. Sinclair, what a... coincidence."

In front of him, she felt like a scared rabbit. Her curves were only more accentuated by the tight uniform, her chest almost spilling out of the fabric.

Jonathan's mind flashed back to their time together in bed—her innocence paired with desire, a combination that made his heart tighten. But then, he remembered that she had thrown herself into the nightlife again. It had barely been a week since they had parted ways, and his anger flared up.

"Kylie, is this how low you've fallen? You couldn't wait to come here and find another sugar daddy?"

Kylie was taken aback. Before she could respond, Jonathan grabbed her wrist and slammed her against the hallway wall.

"Who are you planning to seduce tonight?" His eyes were dark with menace.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kylie struggled to push him away, but Jonathan only held her tighter. He leaned in close to her ear, his voice dangerously low.

"I won't allow it."

Kylie could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin, his fingers grazing her. Just like the foreplay they used to share, it made her shiver.

They had already broken up. Jonathan had no right to interfere in her life.

Anger rose in Kylie, and she turned to face him, meeting his intense gaze.

"You have no right to control me. Let go of me."

Jonathan sneered and roughly dragged her into an empty room nearby.

With a sharp click, he locked the door behind them.

Kylie took a nervous step back until her back hit the cold wall.

"Jonathan, what are you doing?"

Her voice trembled, and deep down, she knew this man had enough power to do whatever he wanted in this place.

Jonathan's voice was low and rich, but his eyes were dark. It was as though they could swallow her whole. His fingers slowly slid down her cheek, lightly cupping her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"Kylie, I'll say it again. I won't allow my woman to be in a place like this."

The touch was both familiar and alien, sending a shiver through Kylie's body. She stiffened instinctively, her cheeks flushing slightly. But the humiliation of being discarded made her resist him even more.

"I'm not your woman anymore. Have you forgotten? You abandoned me last week."

Jonathan paused, taken aback by her words. For a moment, he was speechless. But soon enough, his desire flared again, and his lips curled into a smirk.

"Not my woman? I'll make you mine right now!"

With that, Jonathan pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her waist and pushing her down onto the sofa. His other hand slid down her bottom, and without warning, he hoisted her thigh up.

Kylie's body jerked in response, her eyes widening as she stared at Jonathan, memories of their first night together flooding back—the same nightclub, the same private room, three years ago.

Jonathan gripped her chin tighter, bending down to bite her lips. His movements were rough, aggressive, as though he was claiming her once more.

"Let go of me!"

Kylie fought with all her strength, pushing against him.

But Jonathan wasn't relenting. His lips moved to her neck, kissing and biting as his long, lean hand slid beneath her skirt.

In a panic, Kylie grabbed the small cup from the coffee table beside the sofa and swung it at Jonathan's head.

He staggered back, stunned, his forehead swelling immediately with a dark bruise as blood began to seep from the cut.

Kylie was breathless and terrified, and she didn't hesitate. She scrambled to her feet, rushing to the door and bolting out of the room.

Once outside, she collided with Lily, who was walking by.

"What's going on? Why the rush?"

Kylie mumbled quickly, trying to hide her fear.

"The guest had too much to drink. I'm fine. I just need to clean up."

Lily gave her a suspicious look. This room didn't have a client tonight. Her suspicion grew as she noticed Jonathan stepping out of the room, his hand pressed to his head. His forehead was already swelling and bleeding.

"Mr. Sinclair... a-are you alright?"

Lily immediately understood that Kylie had crossed a line with Jonathan.

Jonathan was someone no one could afford to offend. If Kylie had truly angered him, life in this place would become unbearable for her.

In the dressing room, Kylie stared at her reflection in the mirror, her disheveled appearance starkly evident. The love bite on her neck stood out, a mark of what had just happened.

Jonathan had treated her like that, but even as he did, she couldn't help but notice that she had soaked through her underwear.

Jonathan was her first. Over the past three years, every encounter with him had been intense, each time a dizzying mixture of pleasure and submission. Her body had long been accustomed to his touch. Even in that moment of aggression, she had found herself wanting to respond in kind.

But now, all she felt was frustration and anger.

Lily pushed the door open, entering the room with a sympathetic expression.

"You need to apologize to Mr. Sinclair," she urged, her voice low. "Whatever happened earlier, you need to make it right. Those people... they're not people we can afford to anger."

Kylie knew the reality. The men in that room, especially Jonathan, were the elites of Jorundale. Offending any of them would end badly for her, but angering someone as influential as Jonathan?

That was a disaster waiting to happen.

She didn't want to make things harder for Lily, and she couldn't afford to lose this high-paying part-time job. Her brother, Kevin Cooper, was in the hospital, and she still had to pay his medical bills every month. The thought made her grit her teeth in determination.

"I got it." Kylie nodded resolutely.

She returned to V8, where she found Jonathan already sitting in the center of the sofa. Samuel was beside him, speaking to him. He lounged with one arm draped around an up-and-coming starlet and the other swirling a glass of whiskey.

The woman was draped over him like a snake, her hands freely roaming across his chest. Jonathan didn't seem to mind, letting her touch him without protest.

The bandage on Jonathan's forehead stood out, the white patch stark against his skin. His shirt collar revealed a faint trace of lipstick, clearly from when Kylie had struggled earlier.

As soon as Jonathan saw Kylie, his attractive eyes filled with an edge of anger.

The room grew silent.

Earlier, everyone was talking about who had the nerve to offend Jonathan, and it turned out to be a hostess. Now, everyone was waiting to see what Jonathan would do to this hostess who had dared to cross him.

Suddenly, someone from behind shoved Kylie roughly.

Kylie stumbled forward, her high heels twisting awkwardly as her ankle gave way. She crashed to the ground, falling to her knees with a loud "thud".

A sharp pain shot through her knees. Instinctively, she reached out to steady herself, her palms pressing against the cold floor. Her hair, which had been carefully styled, now spilled messily around her face, blocking her view.

At that moment, her forehead was less than five inches from Jonathan's custom Italian leather shoes.

The woman in Jonathan's lap let out a high-pitched scream, her hands clutching at him as she flung herself into his chest.

"Mr. Sinclair! That scared me!"

However, Jonathan remained calm and unbothered. He raised one foot, gently pressing the toe of his shoe under Kylie's chin, lifting her face to meet his. His gaze was sharp, his words dripping with disdain.

"Is this how you apologize?"

Jonathan had always been aloof, never one to stoop to such levels with others. It was clear he was still angry.

Samuel could tell, and he couldn't help but scoff. "Was it you? You're the one who dared to hurt Mr. Sinclair?"

With that, Samuel stepped forward, raising his hand and patting Kylie lightly on the cheek.

Kylie took a deep breath, trying to calm herself before speaking in a soft voice. "Mr. Sinclair, I'm sorry for offending you earlier. I truly apologize."

Samuel sneered, then grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the table, opening it with a flourish before holding it up to Kylie's lips.

"An apology requires sincerity, doesn't it?"

Kylie hesitated, glancing down at the bottle before her. She slowly took it from him, and still kneeling, she poured whiskey into Jonathan's glass.

Once again, she softly said, "Mr. Sinclair, I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

Jonathan eyed the glass in his hand, swirling the liquid slowly. After a moment, he raised his hand and poured the entire contents over Kylie's head.

The cold liquid soaked through her hair, trickling down her scalp, flowing down her neck, and dripping into her blouse.

"Drink the whole bottle," Jonathan's cold voice echoed above her.

Kylie hadn't expected him to be so harsh. Fear tightened in her chest, but she knew that refusing him would only make things worse.

She looked up at him, pleading silently with her eyes, hoping for mercy.

But Jonathan showed no signs of yielding. His eyes were as cold as his tone, his focus unwavering as he shook his glass.

The woman sitting on Jonathan's lap was a rising star, and she looked increasingly irritated. Tonight had been her chance to climb the social ladder, and she had already made herself comfortable in Jonathan's lap. But this interruption had completely ruined her moment.

Without a word, she stood up and slapped Kylie across the face, her voice sharp as she commanded, "Asking you to drink was a courtesy. Don't push your luck!"

Jonathan's hand trembled slightly around his glass, and a flicker of something that could almost be mistaken for regret surged in his chest.

Kylie's face was burning from the slap, and she had no choice but to comply. She lifted the bottle with respect, holding it to her lips as she drank deeply, tilting her head back. The smooth curve of her neck was visible as she swallowed, the movement subtle but alluring. The faint marks Jonathan had left on her skin earlier seemed to glow under the light.

The sharp sting of the whiskey hit Kylie hard, leaving her feeling nauseous. She swallowed it down, fighting the urge to gag. Then, in a hoarse voice, she said again, "Mr. Sinclair, please forgive me."

Jonathan remained silent, his expression cold and unreadable.

Kylie had been with him for three years without ever questioning him. She had never dared to oppose him. Jonathan hadn't anticipated that she would actually hurt him today.

He simply wanted to teach her a lesson and make sure she remembered who held the power.

The dim, flickering lights cast an almost seductive glow on Kylie's skin, her chest rising and falling with each breath, the curve of her body impossible to ignore.

She was undeniably beautiful, a perfect vision of temptation.

Samuel couldn't help but swallow, feeling a twinge of sympathy. He turned to Jonathan, his voice softer than before.

"Bro, this girl's probably new. She doesn't know the rules. A little lesson should be enough, right? It's my birthday, after all. Look, the cake still isn't cut. Let's not let this spoil the mood."

He glanced at Jonathan, waiting for a response.

Jonathan remained silent, giving no objection, which seemed like a silent agreement to Samuel's words.

"Why don't you quickly thank Mr. Sinclair? He won't hold today's incident against you," Samuel said to Kylie.

Kylie lowered her gaze, her long lashes shadowing her face, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Thank you, Mr. Sinclair. Thank you, Mr. Quinton."

The woman still draped over Jonathan's lap rolled her eyes and impatiently said, "Hurry up and get lost."

Kylie rose, her knees already bruised from the prolonged kneeling. With her head bowed, she quickly exited the room.