Chapter 2

Paige barely had time to speak before Reagan flipped her, pressing her against the wall. She struggled, but his large hand pinned her wrists firmly above her head. A dangerous, low voice, laced with a magnetic edge, whispered in her ear. "Paige, are you really this thirsty? You even dared to tease me right here in the open?" As he spoke, his other hand slid skillfully beneath the hem of her shirt. When it ventured lower, it suddenly brushed against her sanitary pad. Reagan shuddered and cursed under his breath. "I actually forgot about this." He dragged Paige to the private room's entrance and gestured to a beautiful woman in the seating area. The woman blushed and hurried over. The instant the door closed, Paige's face went ghostly pale, almost translucent. She stiffened, ready to leave, when the door swung open again. Reagan's lazy voice drifted out. "Buy a dress in your size. I tore hers to pieces." The door closed again, and teasing, flirtatious laughter came from inside. The crowd erupted in laughter, their gazes on Paige growing more lecherous by the second. Someone moved forward, but another shoved him back. "Did you forget Mr. Lancaster's rules? No one touches any woman he's been with, unless he's explicitly dumped her.” Paige's face was drained of color. She had steeled herself and knew how cruel Reagan could be, but hearing it aloud still cut deeper than she expected. The phone rang abruptly. Quinn's voice was sharp, dripping with fury. "Paige, the three-month arrangement has just begun, and you're already urging your dad to resign? Are you afraid the Lancasters will slight you? "Mark my words. As long as Reagan doesn't say he'd let you go, even if you die, it'll be in the Lancaster family. "If you make him angry, I'll have your dad transferred to Serravia instantly. Doesn't he have a heart condition? Guess whether he'll even survive three months!" Quinn slammed the phone. At that moment, Quinn's and Reagan's cruelty completely shattered their gentle facades. Paige turned and made her way to the clothing section. By the time she returned with the garment, Reagan was lounging lazily against the door. He took the dress from her and tossed it to the woman inside the room. A few moments of rustling later, the woman's delighted voice rang out. "Mr. Lancaster, it actually fits perfectly!" Reagan exhaled a stream of smoke. "Of course. You two have the same figure, and I happen to know her body very well." He spoke without the slightest restraint, utterly indifferent to Paige's feelings. Naturally, he failed to notice the tender flesh of her palm, broken by her own nails as she clenched her fists tight. The alluring woman stepped out of the room, flashing Paige a provocative smile. "Ms. Gabert, you're lucky? You've been sleeping with Mr. Lancaster for quite a while." She swayed her hips as she returned to her seat, drawing laughter from the crowd. In good spirits, Reagan stubbed out his cigarette and beckoned Paige with a finger. "Come on. I'm feeling generous, so I'll leave you with some dignity and head home with you." Paige lowered her gaze and stepped forward. Wet from the rain and weakened by her period, her head spun, and the sudden weight on her shoulders nearly toppled her. A rush of hot breath brushed against her ear. "Are your shoulders that weak? I don't remember you being this fragile in bed." Paige bit the tip of her tongue, the metallic tang of blood sharpening her mind. She steadied herself, supporting the feigning half-drunk Reagan as they made their way out. At the sight of her forced composure, Reagan's playful side flared. He shifted his full weight onto her, and Paige couldn't hold it. Her foot twisted, and she stumbled straight into a passerby. Caught off guard, Reagan went down with her. A passing bartender was caught in the chaos, his tray tipping as liquor splashed over them. Squinting, Reagan gritted his teeth. "Who the hell bumped into me?" A flash of fury ignited when his eyes landed on the man standing nearby. He leaped up, grabbed the man by the collar, slammed him to the ground, and unleashed a storm of blows. It was only then that Paige saw clearly that the man being beaten was a former friend from Reagan's circle. The two had once planned a street race, during which the other man's car lost control and crashed into Reagan. The man had walked away unscathed, but Reagan landed in a coma for half a month and woke up blind. Knowing Reagan's temper, the man had never dared to apologize. Recently, the man planned to flee overnight after hearing that Reagan's eyesight had returned. However, that was when they ran into each other. Reagan had thoroughly vented his anger. It was only after his friend had dragged him that Reagan finally rose to his feet. Seeing Paige cowering silently to the side, he narrowed his eyes in displeasure. "How could you watch your man fight instead? What's up? Are you hoping he's beaten to death so you can crawl into someone else's bed?" Paige twitched the corner of her mouth and glanced back at the man sprawled on the ground, his face bruised and battered. Just as she was about to look away, she noticed his hand reaching for a nearby bottle. She tried to dodge, but her foot slipped. She toppled onto Reagan's back, taking the full force of the bottle. It slammed into the back of her head, causing her to become unconscious.