Chapter 1Rebellion Comes at Midnight

I’m Charlotte Monroe’s secretary—uptight, rigid, and by the book.

For three years, I’ve never made a single mistake.

Until I ran into her at a bar.

I was drunk. I stormed over and spent the entire night treating her like a dog I was training.

Terrified of getting fired, I lied the next day and claimed she’d met my twin brother.

Charlotte stared at me, a thoughtful glint in her eye. After a long moment, she spoke.

“I’ll raise your salary by five thousand a month. Give me your brother’s contact information.”

* * *

Last night’s high was directly proportional to this morning’s low.

Right now, Charlotte was sitting in her office.

Her sensual lips were stained with a trace of blood, and a distinct scratch marked the pale skin of her neck—all souvenirs from my handiwork last night.

Guiltily, I averted my gaze, convinced I’d misheard her.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Monroe, what did you just say?” I asked instinctively.

My lapse in attention earned me a displeased frown.

But she repeated herself. “Give me your brother’s contact information.”

“May I ask what this is regarding?”

“A personal matter.”

After a long pause, I finally managed, “I’m sorry, Ms. Monroe, I don’t think I can help you. The truth is… my brother and I aren’t very close.”

Charlotte raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. I pressed on, my voice stiff. “You see, after our parents divorced, my brother and I were separated. We haven’t been in contact for a long time.”

“A long time, you say? Then how did he know to call me his little dog, Charlotte?”

She let out a cold laugh. “Your ‘brother’ was quite rude to me yesterday. We’ve never met. The only way he could have known who I was is if you’d mentioned me to him.”

The hairs on my neck stood up.

How could I have forgotten that detail?

Last night was… a bit of a blur.

I saw Charlotte, drunk off my mind, and marched over and slapped her across the face.

“Insolent mutt! Why do you not kneel before your king?”

She was completely stunned.

The rest is hazy. The next thing I clearly remember, I’d stripped her down to her blouse, used her jacket and silk scarf to tie her hands behind her back, and was making her kneel while addressing me as “Your Majesty.”

The memory alone made my brain short-circuit.

I cleared my throat. “We have had… some minimal contact. We exchanged a few jokes. I never thought he’d take them seriously…”

“My brother is just impulsive and reckless. If he offended you in any way, please don’t take it to heart.”

“I’ve already taken it to heart,” she said, her expression unreadable.

“I won’t make things difficult for you. Find an opportunity to ask him. I have a feeling he’ll be more than happy to add me as a friend.”

With that, she waved a dismissive hand. “You may go.”

It wasn’t until I was outside her office that the rigid posture I’d been holding finally collapsed.