For His First Love, He Destroyed My Wedding Gown

I froze for a moment, completely at a loss for words. This man was insane.

Shaking my head, I instinctively rejected him outright.

"Please don’t joke with me."

Steve didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned in slowly, closing the distance between us. His gaze was piercing as his fingers brushed against my arm, stopping at my wrist and gently caressing it.

"I’m not that free to be joking around," he murmured in a low voice, his breath warm against my ear. His lips curved into a faint smile.

"After all, marrying me would only benefit you. Not only would it silence your family, but I could also help keep your father’s company afloat. So, Ruby, what do you think? Care to consider it?"

The warmth of his breath and the tingling sensation that followed made me close my eyes and turn my head away. My heart raced uncontrollably at that moment.

"No, it’s not appropriate," I stammered, unable to meet his gaze. My head hung low as I waved my hands dismissively.

Noticing my reaction, Steve loosened his grip on my wrist and leaned back into his seat.

"Your fiancé brought his mistress home, and yet you still choose to endure it quietly," he said. His tone was calm but carried a sharp edge. "Seems like you really are a pushover."

I fell silent at his words. They were harsh, but every word was true. Even James himself had once told Lisa that I’d never fight back.

At that moment, a whirlwind of emotions surged within me.

Why was James allowed to betray me over and over, while I was expected to endure it in silence? Why could he do whatever he wanted, yet I was the one who had to hold back?

Clenching my teeth, I turned back to meet Steve’s gaze. Without giving it much thought, I reached out, grabbed his tie, and pulled him closer.

A light, fleeting kiss landed on his cheek.

"You’re the real pushover.”

Steve froze for a second, then cupped my jaw with his hand, tilting my face up as he leaned in to kiss me.

My hands pressed against his chest, but his kiss was forceful and intense, as if he wanted to pull me entirely into himself.

After a long moment, he finally released me, though his breath was ragged, and his voice came out hoarse.

"Let’s take this somewhere else."

In the bathroom, he pressed me firmly against the mirror. His shirt was gone, discarded entirely, and the heat radiating from his body seeped into my every nerve.

My back was flush against his firm, muscular chest, leaving no space between us. His breath lingered against my neck, sending a wave of warmth over my skin.

Blushing deeply, I tried to avert my gaze, but Steve grasped my chin and guided it back, forcing me to look at my reflection.

His cool lips brushed against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"Since you’ve agreed, there’s no turning back now," he murmured in a low voice.

He toyed with my disheveled hair with one hand while the other held my waist firmly, pinning me in place.

In the mirror, our entwined bodies reflected back at me, and my self-control had completely shattered.

Unconsciously, I called out softly, "Sir… gentle, please."

In response, he lightly nibbled on my earlobe as if in punishment, his voice hoarse and commanding.

"Say my name."

"St… Steve."

The next morning, when I woke up, Steve was already gone, without a single word left behind.