I Married Him Once, Never Again

Chapter 3 The Locked Suite

Ever since Selene's birthday party, she hadn't breathed another word about forcing a marriage alliance with the Barton family. For a few days, we both enjoyed a rare patch of peace and quiet.

That was until our grandfather's seventieth birthday banquet. The celebration was hosted in the grand ballroom of the city's most luxurious hotel, drawing every high-profile figure and socialite in town.

I arrived alongside my family.

During dinner, apart from Selene occasionally piling food onto my plate and telling me to eat more, I sat quietly in my corner. I purposely avoided the spotlight, wishing for nothing more than to slip through the evening unnoticed.

As the night wore on and the wine flowed, the guests scattered into smaller groups to mingle, and the atmosphere grew lively.

Selene excused herself to use the restroom. Ten minutes later, a waiter in a crisp hotel uniform walked briskly over to my table, bowing slightly. "Ms. Bianca Fuller, there's an issue. Your sister's gown accidentally tore along the side seam. She asked if you could come up to the VIP lounge to help her figure out a temporary fix."

I blinked, caught off guard. "My sister's gown is a custom haute couture piece. How could it just tear out of nowhere?"

"I'm not entirely sure, Miss," the waiter replied smoothly.

Not thinking much of it, I stood up and followed him toward the elevators.

Although I disliked Selene's relentless matchmaking between me and Roderick, ever since I returned to the family, she really had shown me nothing but constant care and concern.

I understood that the switch wasn't her fault; she was just a little girl back then. As long as she stopped obsessing over forcing me onto Roderick, I was perfectly willing to treat her like a real sister.

"The VIP lounge is on the penthouse floor. Right this way, please."

The waiter led me down a carpeted, silent corridor and stopped outside a set of heavy double doors. "This is the suite. Ms. Selene Fuller is waiting for you inside."

With the banquet in full swing downstairs, the penthouse level was completely deserted.

I pushed the door open and stepped over the threshold. The very next second, the heavy door slammed shut behind me with a sickening thud.

My heart dropped, and every instinct inside me screamed in alarm.

No matter how panicked Selene might be, she would never have a waiter lure me into a completely random suite, let alone lock the door.

I whirled around and twisted the brass handle, but the lock was thrown tight. It wouldn't budge an inch.

"Open the door! Who's out there? Let me out!" I pounded on the wood, shouting at the top of my lungs, but the hallway outside remained dead silent. There wasn't a single whisper of a response.

The room was dimly lit, curtains half-drawn. A faint sweet scent lingered in the air. At first, it was barely noticeable, but soon, it crept into my lungs with every breath, building up strange, unsettling heat.

I recognized it immediately: a drug designed to shatter self-control and ignite uncontrollable desire.

My whole body went rigid as the realization hit me, my blood running cold despite the mounting fever.

"Bianca?"

Roderick's voice cut through the silence, raw and raspy, coming from the adjoining bathroom.

'How? Why on earth is Roderick here?'

I knew how this setup worked. In stories and high-society scandals alike, once two people were trapped with this kind of drug, the only way to survive the fever was to have s*x.

By the time the trap sprang, a crowd would be brought upstairs to catch us in the act. With my virtue ruined and the Barton family being so pathologically obsessed with their public reputation, Roderick would have no choice but to marry me.

'No! I won't let Selene win! I refuse to be shackled to Roderick in this life!'

But my body was betraying me. The heat was intensifying, spreading like wildfire through my veins, and my knees began to turn to water.

The bathroom door swung open slowly, and Roderick stumbled out, utterly drenched in water.

His face was flushed crimson, his eyes clouded and unfocused. The gentle, polite distance he usually maintained had completely vanished, replaced by a dark, drug-fueled desire that locked onto me like a predator.

"Bianca..."

His voice was incredibly hoarse as he took a heavy, uneven step toward me. It was obvious he had been exposed to the drug much earlier than I had, and he was already balanced on the absolute edge of losing control.

I scrambled backward until my spine hit the icy wall, trapped with nowhere left to run.

"Stay back! Roderick, snap out of it!"

He didn't seem to hear me. He kept advancing, his tall, broad frame casting a suffocating shadow over me. Looking at the volatile storm of raw lust in his eyes, a wave of sheer panic crashed through me.

Summoning every ounce of strength I had left, I grabbed his arm and bit down as hard as I could. The sharp spike of pain seemed to clear his head for a fleeting second, but the drug surged right back, dragging him back into a feverish haze.

Pinned into the corner, I couldn't push him away.

My clothes were already partially torn from my shoulders when the muffled sound of approaching footsteps echoed from the corridor outside.

"Bianca, are you in there?"

"Causing a scene like this at your own grandfather's birthday gala... where are her manners?"

"Growing up in the countryside really leaves them uncultured..."

The sharp knocks and malicious whispering outside grew louder, closing in on me.

Was I really doomed to repeat history? Was I going to be forced to marry Roderick all over again? No, please, no!

But trapped in a drug-induced fog, my mind raced frantically, utterly at a loss for how to escape.

"Step aside, the locksmith is here!" someone shouted through the door.

Roderick was leaning in, mere inches away from shattering my life.

Suddenly, a shadow crashed through the glass window. A figure vaulted into the room, forcefully ripping Roderick away from me. Before I could process what was happening, a heavy coat was thrown over my shoulders, wrapping my exposed skin in warmth.

"Bianca, it's okay. I'm here."