The pre-dawn light was a cold, unforgiving blue. Inside Suite 8808, Lin Xia’s eyes snapped open. Her head throbbed with the retreating heat of the drug, but her body felt the heavy, aching reality of the night before. Beside her, the silhouette of a man remained still, his breathing deep and even. Panic, cold and sharp, washed over her as memories of the encounter returned—the sandalwood scent, the gravelly voice, and the absolute surrender.
This isn't Room 808. Xia’s breath hitched as she looked around the cavernous, opulent suite. She realized with horror that she had stumbled into a lion's den. Terrified that the stranger would wake and see her face—or worse, have her arrested for trespassing—she scrambled out of the silk sheets. Her silver dress was a disaster; the safety pin had snapped, leaving the fabric draped precariously.
She searched the floor frantically for her mother’s jade pendant, but the darkness hid it well. With a sob caught in her throat, she realized she couldn't stay a second longer. She grabbed a discarded hotel bathrobe to cover her ruined dress and slipped out the door, her bare feet silent on the charcoal carpet as she fled into the service stairwell.
Down in Room 808, a greasy, middle-aged man named Manager Wang paced the floor, agitated. He had been promised a 'gift' by the Lin family, but his bed remained empty. Frustrated, he pulled out his phone and dialed Lin Belle. "Where is she?" Wang hissed. "I’ve been waiting all night! You said she’d be here by midnight. Did you play me, you brat?"
On the other end of the line, Belle sat up in her hotel bed, her heart hammering. She frantically dumped her silk clutch onto the duvet and her face turned pale. There, sitting on the sheets, was the standard key for Room 808 on the 8th floor. The VIP Master Card she had meant to keep was gone.
"I gave her the wrong card," Belle whispered. "I sent her to the Presidential level." She raced to the 88th-floor hallway just in time to see a disheveled figure vanish into the fire exit. Belle froze, her eyes landing on the door at the end of the hall: Suite 8808.
Belle crept toward the door, which hadn't fully latched in Xia’s haste. She pushed it open a crack. The room smelled of sandalwood and the lingering heat of a fever. On the massive bed, a man sat up, his chest bare, his eyes sharp and dangerous even in the shadows. Lu Zhenting. The Ice King.
A wicked, brilliant realization took shape in Belle's mind. Xia had just slept with the most powerful man in the country and had run away like a scared rabbit. If Xia was too cowardly to claim him, why shouldn't Belle? This wasn't just a mistake; it was an invitation to the Lu family throne.
Belle smoothed her hair, composed her face into a mask of innocent distress, and pushed the door wide. "You’re still here?" Zhenting growled, his voice a low vibration that made Belle’s pulse skyrocket.