He Left Me For Her, I Sold His Scandal

Chapter 1

I had a dream.

In the dream, I was the lead in some trashy erotic novel. The secret lover of a movie star.

During the day, he played the part perfectly, the untouchable heartthrob gliding through public events. Then at night, as his assistant, I would go into his room and let him do whatever he wanted with my body.

I really thought it was just our thing, some private kink between two people who were almost a couple.

I never imagined that one night, right when he was sweating on top of me, a single call from his first love would make him walk out. He didn't care that I was still tied to the bed, completely helpless.

I woke up with ice down my spine. Because that dream was my reality. Every single detail.

*****

"Chase, what did you put inside me?" I stared at him, horrified. He was completely naked on top of me, that flawless body on full display. Toned eight-pack abs and, further down, a trail of masculine hair leading straight to a very, very generous package.

"Something that'll make you feel amazing. You'll see." Chase Hartley's eyes narrowed. That look, the one he always got when he was about to go full twisted p*****t.

I was scared. Out in the world, Chase was the cold, abstinent movie star. Behind closed doors, he was a depraved freak with a bottomless appetite. As his personal assistant, I got dragged into his room the second work was over and used however he pleased. The last round had been so intense I was practically passed out. The scene from my dream was identical to what was happening right now.

Chase had me tied to the bed, arms and legs stretched out like a cross. He stared at me and murmured, "Such a beautiful body."

I squirmed against the restraints, totally freaked out, and told him to untie me right now.

"It's more fun this way. You're going to love it." He moved over me, his eyes already drowning in lust.

The drug started to kick in. An unbearable, maddening itch spread through my lower abdomen. I let out a needy little moan, and Chase's expression grew even darker.

Right then, his phone rang on the nightstand. I recognized the ringtone immediately. Someone's special ringtone. Chase was already rolling off me and picking up.

"Ivy, what's wrong? Don't cry. Just tell me where you are. I'm on my way."

Chase's voice was disgustingly tender, his whole face tight with worry. A completely different person from the one who looked at me. The call ended, and he started throwing on his clothes like desire had never touched him. He was ready to leave.

I watched him rushing around and couldn't stop the pathetic plea that came out of my mouth. "Chase, can you please not go tonight?"

"No. Ivy's dealing with something. I have to go now."

"Then what about me?" The drug he'd stuffed inside me was already driving me crazy. I was panting, begging him, "You can't just leave me here like this. Ivy is married. If something happened, she could call her husband. Why the hell does she need you at this hour?"

"Serena, be mature." Chase gave me a cold, annoyed look. "Just endure it tonight."

He walked out the door.

"Chase, you bastard! You could at least untie me first!"

I was furious at myself. I should have just demanded he untie me instead of testing whether the dream was real. But the story was unfolding exactly as it had in my sleep. I knew now. That had been a warning. A premonition. A cold sadness settled in my chest. I felt so worthless. In the dream, I was the tragic heroine of some wife-chasing p**n novel. Just a tool for Chase's eventual, far-too-late repentance. I had actually believed he loved me.

My phone was right there beside my hand. With a lot of struggle, I managed to call a tabloid reporter I knew. "I've got something juicy for you. 100,000, and it's yours."

The second I heard the payment notification, I said coldly, "Chase Hartley is having a secret late-night meetup with Ivy Anderson. Go get your shots yourself."

I hung up and ground my teeth.

'You want to be heartless, Chase? Fine. Don't blame me for what comes next.'

Whatever that bastard had given me took full effect. My whole body burned and ached with an unbearable itch. I was still tied up, completely unable to move. I was too terrified of total social death to call anyone for help. So I lay there in agony, the sheets soaking through with my sweat. I clawed at the fabric while it felt like ants crawled all over my skin. An eternity passed before I finally heard the front door open. I looked toward the doorway like I was seeing my salvation, waiting for Chase to rescue me.

Chase did come back. But he wasn't alone. A woman walked in with him. Ivy. She took one look at me, let out a sharp gasp, and immediately spun around to bury herself in Chase's arms.