North pov

I woke up with a searing ache spreading through every limb in my body.

My muscles screamed as I tried to shift, and a groan escaped me before I could stop it.

What the actual fuck...

The room was dim, a faint pre-dawn light filtering through the large window draped with half-open blinds. It was still early-too early for the sun, and far too early for the pounding in my head.

I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to block out reality. Maybe if I stayed still, I could pretend none of this was happening.

But something felt off.

The sheets were unfamiliar-smooth, expensive, smelled faintly of cedar and something masculine. My body was bare under them, and worse... I felt sore. Not the kind of sore from sleeping wrong. No. This was deep, pulsing soreness that came from-

My eyes flew open in a panic.

Where the hell was I?

I shot a glance around the room, heart racing. The walls were unfamiliar, decorated in neutral tones, the furnishings too refined to be mine.

I moved to sit up, but the moment I did, pain radiated through my lower back and thighs. I hissed, gritting my teeth as memories from last night came rushing in-hot skin, breathless moans, the sting of teeth, the bruising grip of hands on my hips.

And then I felt it-an arm.

A strong, heavy arm wrapped around my waist, possessive, bare skin against bare skin.

I froze. My breath hitched.

And slowly, with a sense of dread that settled deep in my gut, I turned my head.

There he was.

Johan Ratchata.

Sleeping beside me like a damn angel of sin, his face relaxed, lips slightly parted, dark lashes resting against his cheekbones. His broad chest rose and fell steadily, one hand still gripping me as if afraid I'd disappear.

Fuck.

I did not just sleep with the most notorious, most dangerously hot cop in the entire district.

This wasn't just a one-night stand. This was a potential disaster.

I was an advocate. A lawyer. A partner in a law firm that literally fought people like him in court.

I was... fucked.

Panic surged in me.

How drunk had I been? What was I even thinking? Out of all the people in that damn club, I had to throw myself at him?

My limbs ached as I slowly peeled his hand off my waist. He shifted slightly but didn't wake.

Good. Stay asleep, Greek tragedy.

I moved carefully, easing myself out from beneath the expensive sheets, wincing as I stood. My legs were weak-shaky and barely holding me upright.

I glanced around the room and spotted my clothes-or what was left of them.

My shirt was ripped straight down the middle, a sleeve dangling from the bedside lamp. My pants lay discarded near the door, looking like they'd been halfway torn off. My boxers were... nowhere.

Fantastic.

With no other option, I grabbed the nearest shirt I could find-it was his. Large, black, and still smelling like him. I threw it over my head, not bothering with the buttons, then found a pair of loose sweatpants on a chair and pulled them on.

I looked back once. Just once.

He was still sleeping, the covers low on his waist, revealing a body I knew too intimately now.

I didn't wait. I ran.

Down the hall, into the elevator, through the quiet lobby.

Every step was an echo of shame, every movement a reminder of what I'd done.

I reached our shared apartment and pushed open the door, heart pounding.

What I saw made me stop in my tracks.

Dao was face-down on the hallway carpet, an empty bottle of champagne next to his hand.

Easter was curled on the couch, legs dangling off the edge, drooling onto a cushion.

Phoon had somehow passed out halfway into the kitchen, cheek pressed against a bag of chips, one sock missing.

None of them had made it to their actual rooms.

They looked like dead roaches after a pesticide raid.

I let out a sigh, dragging a hand down my face.

This was my life. This was my reality.

And I had just added a one-night stand with Johan Ratchata-a walking red flag with handcuffs and a smirk-to the chaos.

God help me.

I wanted to scream. Instead, I dragged myself past them, feet aching, body sore, and made it into the bathroom, locking the door behind me with a click that felt both victorious and terrifying.

I faced the mirror.

And immediately regretted it.

My reflection was a disaster.

Hair-wild and knotted. Eyes-red-rimmed and puffy. Lips-swollen. Neck-absolutely littered in marks.

I stepped closer, pulling Johan's shirt off slowly, carefully. I winced as I moved my arms, my muscles groaning in protest.

My chest was covered in bruises, love bites, faint scratch marks-some mine, some his. Down my sides, along my hips, and then-

I yanked the sweatpants down and choked on air.

No fucking way.

There were more marks. Everywhere. Along the insides of my thighs. On my ass. Around my waist where his hands had held me-possessively. Desperately.

I was covered.

Like I'd been claimed.

By him.

I slumped down on the toilet seat, burying my face in my hands.

I can't let anyone see me like this. I can't let them find out. I can't-

"God, what did I do...?" I whispered, voice cracking. "What the hell did I do..."

I sat there for a moment, gathering the shattered pieces of my dignity, then rose and turned the shower on full blast.

Steam filled the bathroom as I stepped under the hot spray, biting my lip when the water hit raw skin. It burned. It stung. But it was nothing compared to the fire in my chest-the shame, the confusion, the insane spark of memory that kept flashing back to the feel of his mouth on my skin, the sound of him growling my name, the way he smiled when I took control-

Nope. No. Not going there.

I scrubbed myself down like I was trying to remove sin itself.

Twenty minutes later, wrapped in a towel and hiding my neck behind my hair, I emerged from the bathroom like a thief sneaking back into a crime scene.

Time to wake the corpses.

I stepped over Dao and nudged him with my foot.

Nothing.

"Dao," I said, sharper this time, giving him a little shove with my knee.

He groaned. "If this isn't an emergency, I swear to god..."

"It's a disaster."

His eyes blinked open. "That's worse."

Next, I turned to Phoon, grabbing a kitchen towel and tossing it onto his face. "Wake up, idiot."

Phoon stirred, mumbling into the floor. "I didn't kiss that drag queen willingly-he kissed me first."

"What the hell?" I muttered. "Phoon, wake up. It's DEFCON one."

And finally, Easter. I shook his shoulder.

"Easter," I hissed. "If you don't wake up, I swear I'll-"

"I'm up! I'm up!" he gasped, flailing like he was being drafted into a war zone.

One by one, they sat up groggily, blinking at me with puffy eyes and sleep-mussed hair.

"Why are you fully showered and dressed already?" Dao asked, squinting. "You're glowing. Did you go to heaven and come back?"

I froze. "No. Hell. Definitely hell."

They all turned to me at once.

"What happened?" Phoon narrowed his eyes. "You're walking funny."

"I AM NOT-!" I snapped, then immediately winced and adjusted my stance.

Dao sat up straighter. "Wait. No."

Easter leaned forward, eyes going wide. "You didn't..."

I looked at them, eyes wild, heart racing. And then the words tumbled out of my mouth like an avalanche.

"I slept with Johan Ratchata."

Silence.

You could hear a pin drop. Or a hangover breath.

"You did WHAT?" Phoon shrieked, lurching to his feet like he'd been electrocuted.

Dao let out a strangled laugh. "No, no, no, no. That's not possible. Johan? The cop? The smug bastard with muscles and that walk? That Johan?"

Easter just looked horrified. "You mean the man who threatened to cuff me for jaywalking?"

"I didn't plan on it!" I defended. "I was drunk-we were all drunk! I barely remember leaving the club! And next thing I know, I'm waking up in his bed looking like I was mauled by a sexy panther!"

Phoon put a hand on his chest. "My heart can't take this."

Dao leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "So... how big is he?"

"DAO!"

"What?! I'm just trying to visualize the trauma accurately."

I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. "I can't go to work. What if he tells someone? What if he shows up at the office and smirks at me in front of a judge?"

Easter stood up, already marching to the fridge. "I need coffee. We all need coffee. And maybe alcohol again. Because this? This is a full-blown scandal."

Phoon blinked. "Do you think he's going to want a round two?"

I flopped face-down onto the couch. "If he even comes near me again, I'll choke him with his own handcuffs."

But deep inside... I remembered the way he held me. The way he looked at me. The way I let him in-again and again and again.

And I knew.

I was in trouble.

Big. Fucking. Trouble.