Reborn Into His Arms: One Night With The Obsessive Devil

"This mess is on you…"

Kaylee Harris trembled. The searing warmth of the broad hand stretched across her waist sent violent shudders through her, even as she fought against the solid body holding her down against the mattress.

The man's heated breath washed over her skin. His mouth moved from hers, dragging slowly along until it reached the soft curve of her throat, where he grazed and bit.

With the drug flooding her bloodstream and the dizzying pull of his scent clouding her senses, her thoughts unraveled into a fog. Pinned within his iron hold, she slipped helplessly between awareness and darkness.

She had never foreseen anything like this. After dying in flames at the hands of that monster, her fiance Declan Edwards, inside what was supposed to be their new home after they got married, she had come back—thrown into the past at the very instant Joyce Harris had slipped something into her drink. While having an affair with her fiance, that vile woman had also thrown her into the bed of some disgusting director and destroy her name beyond repair.

Kaylee had succeeded in knocking the creep out cold and escaping, only to wander blindly into this stranger's room in her dazed state.

Could it be that, even after being given another life, she still had no control over where her path led?

"Don't… don't lay a hand on me," she breathed out weakly. Her hands pressed against the man's chest, trying uselessly to push him away.

Yet the man ignored every word. His hold snapped tighter, and his knee forced its way between her legs without effort.

A sudden, strange pain ripped through her as his long fingers clamped firmly around her waist. Any hint of restraint he might have had vanished in an instant, replaced by something fierce and unrelenting.

With no strength left in her body, Kaylee was unable to resist. She had no choice but to let him draw her closer, enduring the relentless, unrestrained pace he set.

By the time the surge of intensity finally died down, the sky beyond the towering windows had begun to soften with the faint light of early morning.

Utterly drained, Kaylee could not so much as lift a finger. She sank into an uneasy, heavy sleep against his chest.

……

"You've got some nerve." A shadowed, deadly tone cleaved through the stillness.

Before Kaylee could properly surface from sleep, icy fingers locked hard around her neck.

The sudden flare of agony and the sharp deprivation of breath jolted her awake. Her gaze collided head-on with a face that was striking in a way that felt almost sinister.

Her back stiffened instantly when she noticed the tiny mark beneath his eye, along with the unfathomable intensity in his razor-sharp stare.

Why was it him?

As the hazy, heated fragments of the previous night surged back with brutal clarity, a wave of cold fear seeped into her bones. This man was Caden Lloyd—the head of the Lloyd Group, and the terrifyingly influential figure Joyce had once paraded as her so-called "protector" in Kaylee's former life.

Piecing it together in her mind, Kaylee realized that, back then, it had been not long after this very incident that Caden hosted a grand banquet. He had summoned the entirety of Olissey's upper crust to formally present Joyce as someone within the Lloyd family's inner ranks.

If events were unfolding the same way, then their connection must have already been established.

In that past life, Joyce had basked under Caden's absolute protection. No one had ever dared oppose her. With his limitless backing and endless chances, she had risen straight to the top tier of the entertainment world in just half a year.

At the same time, Kaylee had been cast aside and erased, driven into the shadows, coerced into marrying that worthless scum, Declan, only to be killed on the very night of her wedding.

"Mr. Lloyd, what happened last night was a mix-up. I was drugged… and that's how I ended up in your room."

Kaylee pressed her nails deep into her palms, anchoring herself as she struggled to stay steady, even while her heart pounded violently against her chest.

Caden was not someone anyone would risk offending. The Lloyd family already stood at the very summit of high society, and after he took control, Caden had wiped out internal divisions with ruthless precision. His reputation for brutality was well known.

And beyond that… he was completely out of reach. Over the years, countless women had tried to plot their way into his bed. Every one of them had disappeared without a trace.

"Oh? How neatly that lines up!" A harsh smile tugged at Caden's mouth, his eyes stripped of any trace of warmth. "Who was it that drugged you?"

He knew exactly who he was holding. Kaylee Harris—his nephew Declan's betrothed.

Kaylee parted her lips, but no sound followed. She didn't dare name Joyce. Even if Caden chose to believe her, with his ties to that woman, he would most likely treat Kaylee as nothing more than a problem to eliminate just so he could shield Joyce.

"Nothing to say?"

Mistaking her silence for guilt, the frost in Caden's expression deepened, and his hold on her throat grew even tighter.

As air became painfully scarce, Kaylee instinctively scratched at his iron grip.

Her voice came out fractured, thin and strained, as the silver bracelet on her wrist brushed against the back of his hand. "I really… was drugged…"

Caden's eyes dropped abruptly, locking onto the bracelet as if frozen in place.

Before Kaylee could even choke out another word, the suffocating pressure at her throat disappeared. Caden caught her wrist instead, dragging it closer as he examined the piece with a chilling, focused intensity.

"This," he said, his voice sinking into a dangerously quiet register. "Where did you get it?"