Claimed By The Arrogant Billionaire

Chapter 1

(Eva's POV)

I woke up on the bed with a pounding headache.

As I moved my right hand, I froze—I was touching another person lying next to me.

"What? Who are you!" I gasped, sitting up immediately.

The man had a sharp jawline, full brows, and thin lips.

I glanced down at my body and was stunned to realize I was completely naked, sitting beside him.

"Who the hell are you!" I yelled, before the events of the previous night came crashing back.

I had been invited by Layla Parker to celebrate her birthday at the hotel. Layla came from a wealthy family—she was 24, fair-skinned, and my best friend from college.

Though I knew Layla was rich, I came from a struggling home. She had promised I would have fun at her party, even when I didn't want to go. I agreed, and now here I was, on a bed with an unknown man.

"I should be the one asking you what the hell you're doing on my bed. This is a VIP suite. How did you get in here, miss?" asked the handsome man, shifting away from me. I was stunned by his masculine physique—broad chest, chiseled abs, and six-pack.

"Don't stare at me like that. Get up and get out!" he barked.

I refused. "I am a virgin. I am not a prostitute, and you slept with me. Is this how you take responsibility for your actions? How did we end up entangled on this bed?" I sobbed, unable to believe I had s*x with a stranger. He ignored me, pulling the bedsheet away from my body to shield his own.

When he went into the bathroom, the sound of running water filled my ears. Suddenly, the entrance door swung open, and Layla walked in with Jacob Stone—my boyfriend.

"So this is what you do, Eva. You hook up, after everything I did to support you?" Jacob accused, standing at the door beside Layla.

"No, Jacob. I don't know what happened. Layla, you invited me to your party. How did I end up with that stranger in the bathroom?" I asked my best friend, desperate for her help.

Layla wore a short blue dress and black shoes. She clung to Jacob's arm as if she were his girlfriend.

"Jacob, I don't know what Eva is saying. She came to my party and told me she was looking forward to meeting a rich guy at this luxury five-star hotel—The Owen's Hotel. I honestly don't know how she got here until I asked the security men," Layla lied, and Jacob believed her.

"I cannot believe you would do this, Eva. After everything I did to feed you, sponsor you—this is how you repay me? It's over between us," Jacob said, glaring at me. "You never let me touch you, and now you gave your body willingly to another man. I want back all the money I spent feeding and clothing you for the five years we dated. If you fail, I'll have you arrested. Trust me." He snatched his arm from Layla and walked out.

Layla glanced at me and smiled. "Do you think you're deserving of a rich man like Jacob? Look at you, Eva. A poor girl like you cannot climb the ladder of wealth and power in Dominic City. You're to return to the slum where you belong. And don't worry about Jacob—I'll take care of him." She smirked and walked out, slamming the door with a deafening sound.

Tears flooded down my cheeks as I sat on the bed, speechless. Where would I get the money to pay Jacob now? He had promised to marry me after I graduated, and now Layla had ruined everything—and I had just graduated this year.

Wiping my tears, I knew crying wouldn't solve anything. But I wouldn't just leave. I needed an explanation from the man in the bathroom. How dare he use me, knowing I was intoxicated, and yet act like I was the one who took advantage of him?

I waited for the man to come out, grabbing my clothes from last night, which I saw sprawled on the floor—a green dress I had worn to Layla's birthday party.

A knock on the entrance door startled me again, and I quickly used the green dress to cover my chest and shield my nakedness.

A tall man in a black suit entered. Seeing me using the dress to cover myself, he lowered his head and apologized, "I'm sorry, Miss. Where's Mr. Owen?"

"Mr. Owen? Who?" I asked, confused. Just then, the bathroom opened, and the handsome man who had been with me stepped out.

"Leave, Pete. I'll call for you later," he said.

"Okay, boss," the tall man replied, and my eyes widened. This handsome stranger was a boss? Who was he, and why did the tall man call him boss?

The man ignored me and went to get his clothes ready.

"Mr. Owen, you cannot take advantage of me without an explanation. I was drunk last night, and I bet you were drunk too," I accused, my tone sharp, as he wore his shirt and buckled it.

Turning to face me with his sharp green eyes, he replied, "I wasn't drunk. But how do I know you were drunk, when you came into my room, offered yourself to me, and kissed me first? Do you need me to replay the footage to see what you did?"

"No, I…" I was lost for words. "I would never do that. You're accusing me wrongly," I said, my voice quivering—I didn't remember doing any of that.

"I see," Mr. Owen smirked, walking over to pick up his phone. "Have a look," he said, showing a video from last night on his screen.

In the video, I couldn't believe my eyes—I barged into his room, rushed to the bed, mounted him, and started kissing him.

"I didn't remember doing that. That's not me. And how do you have the video on your phone?" I asked accusingly, and he smirked.

"Don't play dumb with me, young lady. I own this hotel and the Owen's Group in Dominic City. If anyone needs compensation between us, it's me. Because you took advantage of me. I only helped you when I sensed you were drugged. If I hadn't slept with you, who knows what damage would have happened to your body. So you should compensate me." He smirked, and my jaw dropped.