Chapter 1 A Night With Her Fiancé's Uncle

Kyson Cooper propped himself up on the bed.

His hair fell in lazy curls.

Next to him, a woman rested her arm on his abs.

When he shifted, her eyes snapped open, wide and startled, as if she were a scared rabbit. Despite their beauty, there was a naive simplicity in her gaze.

A flicker of distaste crossed Kyson's refined features.

Eliza Scott, equally taken aback, blurted out, "Uncle Kyson?"

Then, in a flurry of sudden panic, she glanced down at herself.

Hickeys dotted every inch of skin.

Eliza checked herself out and realized she'd done it.

When she glanced down, Kyson's gaze fixed on her.

Eliza, barely in her twenties, possessed a gentle beauty and a slim build, embodying the innocent charm many men found appealing.

Under the quilt, however, Kyson could sense her well-defined curves.

A shadow of irritation crossed Kyson's face.

Sensing his growing annoyance, Eliza looked up and shifted slightly.

The soft caress of her skin against his tensed muscles stirred a sense of desire within him.

"Fuck off!"

Kyson's voice was low and firm.

Eliza, hearing him, immediately tried to compose herself, her body tensing and her shoulders curling inward, making her collarbone stand out sharply.

She appeared utterly vulnerable.

"Uncle Kyson, was I that drunk?" she began, her long, soft black hair cascading over her shoulder, covering part of her fair chest. "It's all Rhett's fault. He kept pushing drinks on me."

There was a hint of sorrow in her tone as she confessed, "I can't handle my liquor well."

Yet, Rhett Bailey, her fiancé, seemed indifferent to this, continuously filling her glass without concern.

Kyson, clearly annoyed, pushed her away. As he got out of bed and slipped into his robe, he instructed, "Get dressed and leave."

At his words, Eliza could only muster a frightened "hmm" in response.

Nevertheless, she dressed at a leisurely pace. After she put on her bra and shirt, she lifted the quilt, and then looked up at Kyson with a blend of confusion and despair. "Uncle Kyson..." she uttered, feeling lost.

Kyson's gaze followed hers, landing on a bloodstain on the bedsheet.

His expression immediately darkened, his handsome face now stern.

Kyson wasn't actually Eliza's uncle. She called him that because her fiancé, Rhett, was his nephew, and she chose to address him in the same manner.

Kyson didn't really remember much about her. He was aware she was the Scott family's sole heiress. Despite her parents passing away, she came from a wealthy background.

However, he found little to admire in a woman who seemingly lacked personal boundaries.

"I'll have someone drive you home," he offered, his tone not as sharp as before.

Upon hearing his softer approach, Eliza glanced down, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, concealing the quick shift of emotion in her eyes. She dressed herself contentedly and headed out, her steps uneven.

Her steps were hindered by a noticeable limp as she made her way.

She had a disability.

In Aneson, everyone was aware of this, so those who desired her family's wealth refused to marry her, fearing ridicule as her spouse.

Descending the stairs, Kyson's assistant was at her side in an instant, offering support when her balance faltered.

"Are you alright?" the assistant inquired, securing her stance.

Eliza simply nodded, her gaze drifting back to Kyson.

He stood by the door, his expression cold, his attention pointedly on her leg.

The night before, when they were having sex on the bed, her disability didn't seem apparent.

"Sorry to trouble your assistant," she offered, with a soft, apologetic smile, catching his scrutinizing look.

Kyson remained silent.

Eliza chose not to say anything further, realizing Kyson's feelings for her were not favorable. Rather than subject herself to further embarrassment, she quietly walked away.

After she had gone, Kyson picked up his phone and dialed a number. "Find out who Rhett was with last night."

He wondered where Rhett had been instead of looking after his intoxicated fiancée.

While she was heading home, Eliza's phone rang.

The caller ID showed it was her old friend, Makenzie Dixon.

Eliza decided not to pick up and simply waited.

When the call went unanswered, Makenzie texted Eliza instead.

Eliza opened the message with a faint smile.

It contained a photo of a bathtub.

Scented candles flickered at the bathtub's edge, while rose petals scattered over the water and the surrounding floor.

A man's chest was soaked in the foamy bubbles, with a woman's body pressed closely against him.

It conveyed a clear sense of intimacy.

Having suspected their affair, Eliza felt unfazed by Makenzie's attempt to upset her.

But the phone rang again.

This time, Eliza picked up.

With a moan, the voice on the other end taunted, "Eliza, how was the guy last night?"

Eliza stayed quiet.

Makenzie persisted in her taunting. "Rhett got you drunk and left you outside last night just to be with me. You must be feeling terrible. Sadly, Rhett can't be bothered with your tears. He's still in bed with me."