Out of Control: Into Your Everything-Chapter 1: Get On Top

"Ryan, you haven’t slept with Scarlett yet?"

"Too dirty. Don’t want to touch her."

In the smoke-filled private room, Ryan Ford lounged lazily against the wine-red sofa, his foxlike eyes seductive and mocking, lips curled in a teasing, playful sneer.

Scarlett Shaw stood frozen at the doorway, her entire body cold as ice.

Someone noticed her. "Scarlett?!"

The smile on Ryan’s face faded, his gaze turning cool and his brows darkening as he rose from the sofa.

He took his long strides over to Scarlett, his expression so calm it was as if he hadn’t just called her dirty.

Ryan: "Who told you to come here?"

Scarlett raised her hand and slapped Ryan’s stunning, almost demonic face.

Ryan narrowed his eyes, a dangerous glint flickering there.

Scarlett: "Ryan Ford, we’re over."

Ryan frowned. "Just because of that one thing I said?"

"You know perfectly well what you’ve done."

The palm she’d slapped him with was stinging and numb, the pain slicing straight through her heart. Scarlett blinked back tears, turned around, and left without looking back.

Ryan didn’t chase after her.

Scarlett knew he wouldn’t. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

The Fords’ Second Son, notorious for his charm and playboy reputation in Capitoline’s elite circles—arrogant, proud—how could he ever lower himself to chase after a clingy girlfriend like her?

Three years with Ryan, and the number of flings she’d caught him with was a perfect soccer team—eleven starters and five subs.

As for the extra one, she’d just left her used condom in Ryan’s car and took over as coach for the whole team.

Scarlett’s heart ached so fiercely she thought she’d lose it. Fuming with jealousy, she hit the bar, got herself wasted, and on her way out of the restroom, crashed into a tall, cold body. Dazed, she looked up—damn, the guy was so handsome it was practically a crime.

She shoved him up against the wall, tiptoed, and kissed his lips.

The man’s lips were soft, but icy cold.

His suit was chilly too, carrying a frosty air.

Scarlett shivered for no reason.

Her slick, watery eyes fluttered open. The moment she saw that face—with a vague resemblance to Ryan—her drunken haze cleared up a lot.

"Mr... President Ford."

Julian Ford.

Ryan’s older brother.

The actual heir to the Ford family, a legend in Capitoline’s finance world, barely thirty and already running the Ford Group’s famous multinational investment arm, Veridian.

Also—her boss.

As if things weren’t bad enough, a week ago Scarlett had accidentally sent a risqué photo meant for Ryan to Julian’s work WhatsApp.

She’d deleted it fast, just praying he hadn’t seen it.

Up until yesterday.

Julian hadn’t replied to her at all.

But Scarlett had found Ryan having sex with some other woman in his car.

Scarlett: "President Ford, I’m sorry. I made a mistake."

Julian’s unperturbed gaze swept over her for two seconds. "Had a fight with Ryan?"

Scarlett: "We broke up."

Today Scarlett was wearing a spaghetti strap pink dress—sexy but not trashy, every curve accentuated, eyes bright and pure, her voice fresh and sweet like a dewy peach just about to ripen.

Hard not to notice her.

Julian’s gaze drifted carelessly back to her face, clear and unsuggestive, utterly devoid of emotion or lust.

He looked so restrained, so austere, it made Scarlett instantly feel cheap—as if she’d just defiled a god.

She had no face to stay there anymore.

Scarlett hurried out of the bar and over to the curb, where a low-key, luxurious black sedan pulled up in front of her.

Scarlett knew her cars. This ride easily went for seven figures—and it was a limited edition, the kind you can’t buy even when you’re rich.

The window rolled down, revealing Julian’s features—Eastern skin on a Western bone structure, a uniquely handsome face.

"Get in."

His voice was cold as ice.

Scarlett hesitated, wanting to refuse, but the pressure coming from Julian was overwhelming—and he was her boss. She didn’t dare defy him.

The car stopped at her apartment building.

Scarlett: "Thank you, President Ford."

Julian’s long, knuckled fingers drummed the steering wheel twice, his tone nonchalant: "Nice photo."

Scarlett’s whole face went beet red.

She wished the ground would just swallow her up.

Julian glanced at her crimson face from the side, his gaze circling there.

That photo had been taken with serious technique—revealing, but not too much—a hazy, seductive mystery. Just like Scarlett sitting here now.

Julian hooked a finger in his tie and yanked it loose.

Scarlett pleaded, "President Ford, I sent that by mistake. Could you please delete it?"

Julian: "You wanted Ryan to see it?"

Scarlett stayed silent.

"I can delete it." Julian’s expression cooled. "You know what you need to do."

Julian’s indifferent, utterly emotionless tone almost made Scarlett think he was just making casual small talk about the weather.

Scarlett: "President Ford, I’m not—"

Julian’s dark eyes glanced at her. "Quit pretending."

Scarlett went mute.

She really had gotten in the car exactly because she wanted revenge. Julian was Ryan’s brother—after three years of being made a fool of, there was no way she didn’t want to get even.

But face-to-face with Julian, Scarlett couldn’t help but be intimidated.

He wasn’t like Ryan, who always wore his arrogance on his sleeve—Julian’s calm distance was more threatening in its own way.

For a split second, Julian’s cool, controlled face flashed with impatience. His lips parted slightly; Scarlett’s heart seized up—and recklessly, she threw herself at him.

Her phone lit up: Ryan calling.

Julian had Scarlett pinned by the waist, her back against the steering wheel.

The ringtone blared. Scarlett reached to hang up, but Julian grabbed her slender neck, forcing her to lower her head and kiss him.

The only buttons undone on his black shirt were at the collar, sweat glimmering at his collarbone. Compared to Scarlett’s own disheveled, soaked appearance, he looked completely untouched.

Julian, composed and poised, calmly pulled out a tissue to wipe off the places she’d dirtied.

Only his eyes were still so remote and indifferent—no emotion at all.

Scarlett glanced at her phone—twenty missed calls from Ryan.

She was still sitting on Julian’s lap. She’d never been through anything like this—and Julian, for all his holy and forbidding aura, was even more ruthless than she’d ever guessed.

She had no strength left—until the phone rang again in her numb hand.

Ryan again.

Scarlett took a deep breath. She’d known Ryan for five years; she knew if she didn’t answer, he’d just keep calling.

"Ryan?"

Scarlett’s voice was husky and lazy with exhaustion, trying desperately to stay calm.

"We’ve already broken up. Don’t call me again."

Ryan: "Where are you?"

Scarlett: "At home."

Ryan: "If you’re home, why won’t you open the door?"

Scarlett panicked and couldn’t answer. Ryan’s voice was icy and sharp: "You never lied to me before."

Scarlett hung up.

Her pink dress had gotten torn to shreds by Julian while they were at it—the fabric in tatters. Going home now and running into Ryan would be suicide.

Scarlett was lost, her teary eyes looking to Julian for help.

Julian fastened his belt and said calmly, "Get out."

Scarlett: "President Ford, Ryan’s outside my apartment. I can’t go back now."

Julian glanced at her with indifference. "What’s it got to do with me?"