Sleeping with the Enemy's Son
A forbidden billionaire romance full of secrets, betrayal, and undeniable chemistry.
She was raised to hate his name.
He was raised to destroy her family.
But one reckless night changed everything.
When Ashley Walter, the daughter of a powerful media mogul, sneaks into a masked charity gala, she just wants to forget who she is for one night. No titles. No rivalry. Just the thrill of being someone else - especially after realizing her fiancé might not be who he claims to be.
To escape the heartbreak and pressure, Ashley lets her best friend drag her to the gala - one night to forget, one night to feel free.
Then she meets Alan Jean - charming, dangerous, and utterly off-limits. Their chemistry is instant, electric, and wrong in every possible way.
One night of passion. No names. No consequences.
Until there are.
Because Alan is the only son of her father's sworn enemy - and the secret Ashley carries could destroy them both.
When their families collide again in a billion-dollar merger war, Ashley finds herself face to face with the man she's been avoiding... and he's about to learn that the woman who hates him most is carrying his child.
Now, the stakes aren't just business - they're blood.
And love, in a world built on revenge, might be the most dangerous secret of all.
When the masks come off, Ashley realizes the man she gave herself to is Alan Jean, the billionaire heir to her father's greatest rival. Panicked and ashamed, she disappears before dawn, determined to bury the memory and the scandal that could ignite another corporate war.
But weeks later, two pink lines change everything.
She can't stop seeing the enemy's son. The tension between them is unbearable. Her marriage is at stake - and if her father ever finds out, he could have her killed. That's how deep his hatred runs for the other side.
Will love prevail?
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Chapter 5
Alan's POV
If hell had chandeliers, they'd look like this boardroom.
Gold, gleaming, expensive - and utterly suffocating. The Walters were seated opposite us, the tension so sharp you could hear it hum beneath the polite laughter.
I'd been to dozens of business meetings, but never one where I couldn't breathe.
Not because of the deal. Because of her.
Ashley Walter. A name that carried legacy, control, and the kind of family my father spent decades trying to destroy.
I'd told myself to treat her like any other corporate pawn.
But the moment she walked in, the world tilted. Her perfume hit first - faint, familiar.
Then the way she carried herself - calm, precise, almost cold.
The meeting dragged on for an hour. Numbers, proposals, projections - all noise. I didn't hear a damn word.
All I could think about was the way her eyes had flicked to my wrist when I sat down. The way her breath had caught when our gazes locked.
When our fathers finally called for the "symbolic handshake," I almost laughed. Symbolic? Try catastrophic. She approached like she was walking into a battlefield. Calm on the outside, chaos beneath.
She stopped in front of me, just close enough that I could smell that same faint trace of perfume - the one that had ruined my self-control the first time.
Her hand slid into mine.
Soft. Steady. Familiar.
And for a second, time folded.
The boardroom dissolved. The chatter vanished. All I could see was her - the same woman in that dim suite, pressed against me, whispering "no names."
The heat that surged between us now was quieter, but sharper. Dangerous.
Her pulse raced beneath my thumb as I held her hand, and then - I saw it.
The tattoo.
That crescent-shaped mark inked on her wrist. The one I'd kissed without knowing it would haunt me later.
It brushed against my palm, and the air went thin.
She looked up at me, eyes wide but unreadable, every secret screaming behind them.
She knew.
I knew.
And neither of us could breathe.
Applause. Cameras. Smiles. Lies.
Our fathers were shaking hands, congratulating themselves for uniting two dynasties built on ruin.
I forced a smile for the cameras, the kind that didn't touch my eyes.
Every flash of light felt like it was burning that secret into my skin.
Leah, beside me, leaned in with that knowing glint. "You're awfully quiet."
"Just tired," I said, keeping my tone flat.
"Hmm." She studied me for a moment. "You hate being here, but somehow, I don't think that's why."
I didn't answer.
Because if I opened my mouth, I might've said her name - the name I wasn't supposed to know.
The speeches went on. The older men talked about legacy, progress, and "a new era of partnership." It sounded noble to anyone who didn't know how much blood these families had shed to get here.
Ashley didn't say much. She didn't need to. She sat there, perfect posture, flawless composure, her eyes fixed on the contract in front of her as if the ink might start bleeding secrets.
I couldn't stop looking at her hands. The same hands that had once pulled me closer now clenched around a pen, hiding that mark like she knew it was dangerous.
When it was finally over, she stood. Smiling politely, shaking a few hands, doing the performance she'd been born into.
I should've looked away. I didn't.
She turned to leave, and for a moment, I let her go.
Then her gaze dropped - just once - to my wrist.
The cufflink gleamed in the light.
A.J.
Her lips parted slightly. Just a flicker - but it was there.
Recognition. Shock.
And for a fraction of a second, I saw the mask slip. The perfect daughter, the polished heiress - gone.
What was left was the woman I'd held in the dark, now standing under crystal lights, pretending she didn't remember the shape of my voice.
She blinked, hiding it fast, and turned away.
Our secret - the one night that was never meant to exist - had just followed us into daylight.
The irony almost made me laugh. Out of all the women in this damn city, I'd fallen into bed with the enemy's daughter.
And now we were partners.
The headlines tomorrow would talk about legacy and collaboration, about how two powerful families were finally setting aside their pride.
But none of them would know the truth.
That beneath every handshake, every smile, every carefully spoken promise - there was history. Bitterness. And now, a secret that could burn it all down.
Leah nudged me again. "You okay?"
I didn't look at her. "Yeah."
But my gaze stayed on the door Ashley had just walked through.
She was gone. But the scent lingered. The memory stayed. And the imprint of her touch refused to fade.
For years, our families had fought over money, contracts, power.
Now it was different.
This wasn't just business anymore.
It was personal.
And one of us would burn before it was over.