Trapped by the Devilish King

The night breeze was gentle, neon lights flickering like stars.

Still holding onto the address her bestie gave her, Camila Harrington hopped in a cab straight to Meridia's busiest commercial hub.

She got out in front of the Imperial Crest Hotel-seriously high-end, luxury every inch, the kind of place where only the ultra-rich could afford to hang out.

After paying the fare, Camila took a deep breath at the entrance before making her way inside the ridiculously fancy six-star hotel.

She took the elevator straight up to suite 3288 on the top floor.

Room 3288-aka, the presidential suite at the very top of Imperial Crest's 32nd floor. Over-the-top luxury packed with taste.

It wasn't just expensive, it was invitation-only. Even billionaires couldn't just book their way in.

Soft music played in the suite, flowing like a slow stream.

On the couch, a man with long legs casually crossed sat like he owned the place-tall, lean, every inch lounging into the plush cushions.

The lighting hit his face just right, deep set features, sharp lines, absurdly good-looking. Honestly, it was almost unfair-like someone hit jackpot on the "perfect face" generator.

He sat there without moving, relaxed but commanding. Those long, narrow eyes had this cold, bottomless look, like staring into some dark ocean. One glance and you could feel the pressure. The man radiated "don't-mess-with-me" energy.

Across from him, a couple of guys in tailored suits stood stiff as boards. They looked like kids about to get scolded, all nervous glances and not one having the guts to make eye contact with the guy on the couch.

Outside the door, Camila had just arrived.

She hesitated, debating how to step in-only to realize the guy hadn't even bothered to lock the door.

A sliver of light spilled through the gap. The music drifting out only made it weirder.

Camila frowned. Who the hell sets up a hook-up and doesn't even lock the damn door? She let out a slow breath and reached to push it open.

"Bang!"

That loud thud broke the ice-cold tension inside the suite like a hammer. All heads turned toward her.

Camila's gaze zeroed in on the guy on the couch. That had to be the scumbag she came to call out.

Without missing a beat, she marched up to him and launched right in: "Wow. Just wow. Kendall's way too good for you, and you're out here screwing around? What kind of garbage human does that? You reek of bad decisions. Honestly, people like you shouldn't be allowed within ten feet of a relationship. Stay single. Forever!"

The men in suits looked like they'd seen a ghost. Mouths hung open.

Who was this woman? And why on earth was she yelling at the BOSS like that?

Was she legit crazy? No way-she had to be the first person ever to go off like this in front of him.

The guy on the couch didn't even blink. He just turned his icy gaze her way, smirk tugging at his lips.

"Who let the lunatic in? Get her out."

His voice was low and smooth, full of that dark charisma that made people instinctively back off.

Camila's eyes widened. Okay, not what she expected. The guy was... ridiculously attractive. Looks and vibe both off the charts.

But then she remembered Kendall's tearful call from just thirty minutes ago and boom-rage mode back on. No matter how hot he was, a jerk was still a jerk.

She pointed right at him. "Lunatic? No. That's you. You cheat and act like you're in the right? I've seen trashy, but you take it to another level. No shame, no morals... One day that karma's coming for you. Poor Kendall, falling for you was the unluckiest thing that ever happened to her."

Silence.

Not just quiet-dead quiet.

The entire massive suite felt frozen. Even the air seemed to hold its breath.