Chapter 1

Hermione Rosendale had been in a secret relationship with her best friend's younger brother Darius Cavendish for five years. Though his young age, he was well-endowed.

Because of his youth, he always coaxed her into indulging in his desires in various places-his Maybach, the couch, even the private lounges at exclusive parties.

Hermione had only stepped into the bathroom for a moment when Darius cornered her again, bending her slender waist as he pressed her against the sink.

He hiked up her dress and thrust into her with satisfaction. He rocked as he buried himself inside her, his breath hot against her ear.

“Fuck… you're so tight,” he murmured, his voice dripping with sinful pleasure.

Hermione's eyes grew hazy with pleasure.

“Darius… Uhn…” she gasped, her voice trembling.

He let out a low chuckle, teeth grazing her earlobe as his tone turned teasing.

“What's wrong, sweetheart? Can't handle it?” He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust. “But we're just getting started.”

A whimper escaped her lips, but she no longer protested. She surrendered to the relentless pleasure.

Over the years, they had sexed everywhere—his car, the couch, even out in the open when lust got the better of them.

But no matter how many times they fucked, she could never quite keep up with his stamina.

Now she truly understood what it meant to date a younger man—boundless energy, endless appetite, and a knack for variety.

Her body felt like jelly, clinging to him just to keep herself steady as he continued his relentless pace.

Darius looked at her through half-lidded eyes, his hands caressing her waist possessively.

"Why is your waist so damn soft? It feels incredible every time I touch you. I'm fucking addicted to it," he murmured.

"No other man gets to touch this. Only me."

Hermione knew how possessive he could be. She let out a breathless laugh, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips.

It was only after he had wrung every last drop of pleasure from her that he finally pulled away, satisfied.

He adjusted his belt with that usual air of nonchalance, like he hadn't just fucked her senseless against a restroom sink.

As he turned to leave, Hermione reached for his wrist.

"I'll be thirty next year. My parents keep pressuring me about marriage. Since I know you don't want to go public, I haven't told them I have a boyfriend. They've arranged several potential marriage matches for me. Any thoughts?"

Darius paused, turned back and placed a gentle kiss on the corner of her mouth, his voice soft and reassuring.

"Just wait a little longer, babe. I'm already planning the proposal."

Hermione's anxious heart finally settled.

Watching his silhouette disappear down the hallway, she gathered her scattered clothes and slowly made her way back to the private lounge where the party was still in full swing.

Just as she reached the door, she heard raucous laughter from inside.

“Damn, Darius! That was something else—we could hear everything here! Your girl really knows how to moan, huh?”

“Can you blame him?” Leo’s voice chimed in.

“Have you seen that body? That waist? No wonder he keeps going back for more. Half the guys in our circle would kill for a night with Hermione, but she's always been untouchable—except for our dear Darius, of course. But you've been with her for how many years now? Man, you must have learned all the tricks by now."

Tricks?

What tricks?

Hermione felt ice in her veins, completely confused by what she was hearing.

Zayn, clearly out of the loop, laughed. “What tricks?”

“Oh, come on, you don't know?” Leo snorted.

“Darius has been obsessed with that high school junior--Lainey Belont since forever. We all told him to just go for it—after all, look at that face, who could say no? But no, he wanted to be ‘perfect' for her. Said he had no experience chasing girls, no dating history, and definitely no bedroom skills. He wanted to give that little princess nothing but the best."

Zayn let out a low chuckle. “So, he found Hermione to practice on.”

"Now that your crush is coming back, Darius, you've had your practice run with Hermione for years now… isn't it time to cut things off? Don't tell me you've actually fallen for her?"

Amidst the questioning glances, Darius lazily set down his glass.

"Fallen for her?" He let out a low scoff, lifting his gaze just enough to meet theirs.

"You think I'd actually fall for a fucktoy?”

...

His indifferent tone was like a blade, slicing straight through Hermione's heart.

For a moment, it felt like her blood ran in reverse, her entire body frozen in place.

The searing pain spreading through her chest was almost unbearable, making it difficult to stand.

Before she could even process her heartbreak, she heard the men inside laughing and saying they were coming out.

Panic surged through her, she steadied herself against the wall and quickly fled.

Almost thirty years old, and she was crying over a man.

Rain poured down in sheets as she wandered aimlessly through the city, her mind spinning with memories she had tried so hard to bury.

Hermione first met Darius during her freshman year of university.

She had moved to London for school, where she met her best friend, Hazel Cavendish.

Since she often visited Hazel's home, it wasn't long before she became acquainted with Hazel's younger brother—Darius.

Her first impression of him was simple: he was handsome—strikingly so.

But that was all. After all, she was four years his senior, and he was her best friend's brother. She always saw him as nothing more than a younger brother figure.

After graduating, she didn't return home. Determined to break free from her family's influence and prove she could stand on her own, she found a job in London.

Her beauty, however, made her a constant target for men.

During one business dinner, someone slipped something into her drink. Dizzy and desperate, she fled to a hotel and intended to call Hazel for help—except, in her delirium, she pressed the wrong contact.

Darius was the one who showed up.

When he arrived, she asked him to call a doctor, but he just looked at her with those captivating eyes and removed his t-shirt.

That night, the barely-of-age boy became her antidote.

The next morning, her face burned with embarrassment—not from shame, but from guilt.

She frantically prepared to leave, wanting to pretend nothing had happened.

But before she could escape, strong arms wrapped around her from behind.

A soft kiss landed on the nape of her neck as a husky voice murmured against her skin.

"Leaving without taking responsibility after sleeping with me, sis?" he teased.

Afterward, she tried to avoid him at every turn, but he persistently pursued her.

In the end, he won.

And for the next five years, they were together—secretly, passionately.

They fit together in every way, body and soul.

Hermione believed they would eventually make it official, always hoping for his proposal.

But Darius never brought it up.

With her family pressuring her to settle down, she finally worked up the courage to ask him where they stood.

Little did she know that he never intended for them to have a future together.

He had someone else he loved—his first love—and she had only ever been a practice tool from beginning to end!

Dazed and hollow, she returned home, curling into herself in the darkness.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed when her phone suddenly rang, breaking the silence.

She reached for her phone and answered, hearing her parents' earnest voices.

"Hermione, it's been over two weeks. Have you made up your mind about the arranged marriage?"

Her eyes fell on the framed photo of her and Darius celebrating their fifth anniversary, Hermione took a deep breath.

“Yes. I'll do it.”

From that moment on, she would step into a new life.

Darius could go after his first love.

And they would never cross paths again.

Chapter 2

Hermione's parents were surprised by how quickly she agreed, catching them off guard.

"Are you sure about this? When can you come home? Should we arrange the wedding ourselves, or would you prefer to meet your fiancé first and discuss it together?"

Hermione had no energy left to think about these details and answered half-heartedly.

"Whatever you decide is fine. I'll come back as soon as I wrap things up here."

Her parents heard the exhaustion in her voice. After offering a few more words of encouragement, they ended the call.

The room fell silent once more.

Hermione let out a slow breath before dragging herself into the bathroom.

By the time she stepped out, towel-drying her damp hair, she pushed open the door—only to lock eyes with Darius, sprawled casually on the couch.

"Why did you leave without saying anything?" he asked.

Hermione felt her breath catch, lowering her head to hide her reddened eyes.

"My phone died, so I just came home."

Darius didn't question her flimsy excuse.

Darius didn't seem to dwell on it. Without hesitation, he reached out, pulling her into his lap. With a swift tug, he loosened the belt of her robe.

But Hermione caught his hand before he could go any further.

“Haven't you had enough? Didn't we just do it at the club a few hours ago?"

Darius didn't catch the cold edge in her voice. Instead, he intertwined their fingers, his lips brushing against her knuckles.

“You have no idea how hard it is to resist you,” he murmured, his tone low and teasing. “Every time I see you, I just lose control. I want you, Hermione. I always do.”

Hearing his deliberately seductive words now only struck her as ironic.

Crazy about her? Wasn't she just practice?

After thousands of times over five years, wasn't that enough?

She turned her head away from his approaching lips, her voice cold. “Really? What if… you could never touch me again?”

Darius finally sensed something was wrong and hesitated.

"You love me, and I love you. We love each other. Why would we stop touching?"

What a joke—"we love each other."

Hermione didn't respond, a forced smile appearing on her lips as she silently changed the subject.

“Forget it. I was just talking nonsense. I got caught in the rain earlier, and I'm not feeling great. I need a break.”

Seeing her pale face, Darius didn't push further.

He lowered his head to kiss her forehead a few times, about to carry her to the bedroom.

Before he could stand, the phone on the table lit up with a chime. Without much thought, he picked it up and glanced at the message.

From the corner of her eye, Hermione caught the contact name: "Lainey-bear."

"Darius, I just landed in HearthrowAirport! But the rain is so heavy, and I can't get a Uber… tum tum."

After reading the message, Darius immediately set her down on the couch and got up, already reaching for his coat.

"I have something to take care of. I'll be back later, babe. Don't wait up for me."

The door slammed shut behind him before she could say a word.

Hermione watched the empty space where he had been standing.

Then, without a word, she turned and walked into the bedroom.

After drying her hair, she buried herself under the covers and turned off the lights.

But even with her eyes closed, she couldn't sleep.

Memories kept flashing through her mind—years of promises and carefully woven lies.

Darius slipping a million-dollar necklace around her neck, whispering that he would buy her diamonds for the rest of her life.

He would set off fireworks for three days and nights on the Alexandra Palace to celebrate her birthday, smiling as he said he would give her everything he had, without reservation.

When witnessing an ultra-rare Geminids, he would make a wish, saying he would stay with her until the end of time, never letting go...

The words still echoed in her ears.

But he never intended to spend his life with her.

Half-awake, Hermione felt like she was burning up.

Yet, beneath her fevered skin, a bone-deep chill spread through her body, making her shiver uncontrollably.

By the time morning arrived, cold sweat had soaked through the sheets.

When Darius returned and saw her face flushed with fever, all traces of sleepiness vanished instantly.

Panicking, he scooped her up and rushed to the hospital.

Just as they reached the lobby, Hermione hazily regained consciousness.

“…Why am I here?” she mumbled.

“You have a fever. I brought you in for a check-up. Seriously, Hermione, you're a grown woman—how do you still not know how to take care of yourself?”

His voice carried a mix of frustration and concern as he settled her onto a chair before turning to get her registered.

But he had barely taken a few steps when he caught sight of a familiar figure.

“Lainey?” His brows furrowed in surprise. “What are you doing here? I just dropped you off at home.”

She stood there in a delicate white dress, looking soft and fragile. The very picture of innocence.

“I was making some soup, but I accidentally burned my hand,” she said in a small voice. “So I came to get it treated.”

Darius's gaze dropped to her hand, where her skin was flushed an angry red.

His expression darkened instantly.

He immediately forgot all about Hermione, rushing to help Lainey register, get examined, and collect medication, completely abandoning what he'd been about to do.

Hermione watched in silence as the two of them disappeared down the hallway.

She knew he wasn't coming back.

With a self-deprecating smile, she forced herself to stand and made her way to the registration desk on her own.

After her consultation, she was sent to the IV room for treatment.

Three hours.

She was exhausted. Halfway through, she dozed off in the chair.

With no one there to watch over her, blood backed up into the IV tube, turning the entire drip bottle red.

A nurse rushed over and shook her awake. “Miss, are you here alone? Where's your family? Your boyfriend? There's no one with you?”

Hermione glanced down at her swollen, bruised hand, her voice steady.

“My family isn't in this city. And…” She paused, then gave a faint smile. “I don't have a boyfriend.”

The next moment, Darius came striding over.

"Hermione!"

The nurse, still adjusting the IV, turned to him in exasperation.

“You're her boyfriend, right? Where were you? Do you know how dangerous it is to leave her alone? The IV reversed, she could've had a serious complication!”

Darius's gaze landed on her swollen hand, and his expression shifted instantly. Guilt flashed across his face as he reached for her fingers, his grip tight.

"Sorry, I ran into a friend and got caught up chatting. I forgot what I was doing, and when I came back, you were gone. And I had to search everywhere for you.”

Hermione didn't bother correcting him.

She simply let out a quiet hum in response.

Chapter 3

After her IV treatment, Darius helped Hermione back home.

Just as they reached the parking garage, Hermione spotted Lainey waiting ahead.

Darius let go of Hermione's hand almost instantly.

“Lainey? Why are you still here?”

Lainey was about to answer when she noticed Hermione. She paused, her smile fading slightly.

“I needed to talk to you about something,” she said before her gaze flickered toward Hermione. “Oh… and this is?”

Since Darius and Hermione had long agreed to keep their relationship secret, he introduced her casually as always.

"She's my sister's best friend. She's sick, and Hazel asked me to take her to the hospital."

Hermione felt something tighten in her chest.

For years, she had never questioned why they had to keep their relationship a secret.

At first, she thought Darius was just trying to keep it from Hazel.

But in this moment, she finally understood—Five years of sneaking around, hiding from everyone, there was really only one person he wanted to keep in the dark.

He just didn't want Lainey to know.

She forced a slight smile and said softly, "Hello, I'm Hermione Rosendale."

At that, Lainey's expression brightened. She introduced herself with a soft giggle before turning back to Darius.

"My friends are throwing me a welcome-back party. I wanted to invite you to come along. And Hermione, you should come too! It'll be fun—consider it a chance to make some new friends.”

Hermione wanted to decline, but Darius accepted before she could speak.

With no other choice, Hermione sighed and slid into the car.

The entire drive, Darius kept up an effortless conversation with Lainey, reminiscing about their shared past.

“You still keep strawberry candies in your car?” Lainey laughed, picking up a small tin from the console.

“Remember that New Year's performance in high school when I was so nervous before playing the piano?You asked me how you could help. And I said strawberry candies. You ran out into the pouring rain just to get me some. After that, you always gave me two pieces whenever we met."

"OMG! No way! I mentioned once that I loved Sailor Moon, and you actually got this? You never struck me as someone who liked cute things.”

“And your cologne,” she continued, her tone teasing. “I told you once that guys who wear this scent are incredibly attractive… and now you're wearing it?”

Hermione listened silently, realizing that Darius—who was always so casual and laid-back with her—turned into a shy schoolboy when he truly liked someone, secretly doing everything to please them.

She looked up and caught a glimpse of his reddened ears in the rearview mirror.

After all this time, he still gets butterflies around her?

Well, of course—she was his first love, after all.

When they arrived at the bar, Hermione chose a seat in the corner.

Darius naturally took his usual place beside Lainey, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over her lap.

The group in the private room immediately started hooting and teasing.

"Five years and you're still such a gentleman, Darius! If Lainey loses at drinking games later, I bet you'll down her shots for her, right?"

"Is that even a question? Darius doesn't have a girlfriend, and there's no one checking up on him. If Lainey asked, he'd probably be more than happy to pass out right here on the floor.”

Hearing this, Darius glanced at Hermione without thinking.

She kept her head down, scrolling through her phone, as if she hadn't heard a word they said.

But Darius knew her better than that. A quiet unease settled in his chest, and couldn't help sending her a text.

"Hey, they're just joking around because nobody knows about us. Don't take it personally. It's Lainey's welcome party, not the right time to say anything. Next time, I'll tell everyone about us.”

Next time?

There wasn't going to be a next time.

Soon, the drinking games began.

Hermione lost in the first round, with a penalty of three drinks.

Darius reached out to help, but was stopped.

"Whoa there! House rules—she has to agree if you want to drink for her. Hermione, you're pushing thirty, right? After all those years climbing the corporate ladder, three little drinks shouldn't be a problem, huh?"

The deliberate jab at her age stung Hermione's heart.

Not wanting to owe Darius anything before leaving, she picked up the glasses.

Fighting through the discomfort as she finished them, applause and cheers erupted around her.

In the second round, Lainey lost. She glanced at Darius, and eeveryone poured the liquor into his glass instead.

Without hesitation, he downed them in one go.

For the next few rounds, Lainey kept losing, and Darius's glass was never empty.

Before long, he was completely wasted and stumbled to the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, when he hadn't returned, Hermione left the private room and found him in the stairwell.

The moment he saw her, Darius immediately pulled her into his arms, murmuring softly.

"Lainey, I'm so happy... I've finally got you back." His breath was warm against her neck, his grip desperate.

"I've only ever wanted to be with you. I didn't want to screw this up—I wanted to be perfect for you. Whatever other girls have had, my Lainey deserves too. That's why I've been practicing for five years. Now I know exactly how to be a good boyfriend—how to kiss, how to pick the right gifts, how to make a girl feel loved…”

Every word slashed through Hermione like a blade, cutting deep, tearing her apart.

She stood there, frozen, staring at the man who had been her entire world.

Her teeth bit through her lip, the taste of blood spreading as she couldn't help but ask.

“Darius… what the hell was I to you?”