The mix-up was discovered the moment Aria swiped her key card and stepped into the hotel suite. The room was luxurious, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the Chicago skyline. But it was also unmistakably occupied.

Ethan's suitcase was open on the bed, his tie draped over the back of a chair. He emerged from the bathroom, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, and froze when he saw her.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice sharp.

"This is my room," she said, holding up her key card.

He frowned, pulling out his phone. "There must have been a mistake. I'll call the front desk."

But after a brief conversation, it became clear that the hotel was fully booked. There were no other rooms available.

"Looks like we're sharing," Ethan said, his tone clipped.

Aria's stomach dropped. Sharing a suite with Ethan Blackwood was the last thing she needed. But there was no other option.

The first few hours were tense but manageable. They stayed on opposite sides of the suite, Ethan working at the desk while Aria reviewed her notes on the couch. But as the evening wore on, the tension between them grew unbearable.

It started with a simple disagreement over the presentation for Luxe Cosmetics. Ethan criticized her approach, and Aria fired back, her frustration boiling over.

"You don't have to micromanage every little detail," she snapped, standing to face him.

"I wouldn't have to if you didn't keep making amateur mistakes," he shot back, rising from his chair.

They were inches apart now, their voices rising as the argument escalated. The air between them crackled with electricity, their anger masking something deeper, something neither of them wanted to acknowledge.

"You're impossible," Aria said, her chest heaving.

"And you're infuriating," Ethan replied, his eyes blazing.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating. Then, without warning, Ethan closed the distance between them, his hands gripping her arms as he pulled her to him.

Aria's breath caught as his lips crashed onto hers, the kiss fierce and demanding. She should have pushed him away, should have stopped him, but instead, she kissed him back with equal intensity.

The world around them faded away, leaving only the heat of their bodies and the fire of their passion. Ethan's hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer, while Aria's fingers tangled in his hair. It was raw, primal, and utterly consuming.

But as quickly as it started, it ended. Ethan pulled back, his breathing ragged, his eyes wide with shock. Aria stumbled back, her heart pounding, her mind racing.

"That shouldn't have happened," Ethan said, his voice rough.

"No," Aria agreed, though her body still hummed with the memory of his touch.

They stood there, staring at each other, the air between them heavy with unspoken words. The line between hate and desire had been crossed, and there was no going back.

"We should get some sleep," Ethan said finally, breaking the silence.

Aria nodded, though sleep was the last thing on her mind. She retreated to the bedroom, closing the door behind her and leaning against it, her thoughts a whirlwind.

What had just happened? And more importantly, what did it mean?

In the living room, Ethan sank onto the couch, running a hand through his hair. He had crossed a line, one he had sworn he would never cross. But as much as he tried to rationalize it, he couldn't deny the truth.

Aria Morgan was under his skin, and he didn't know how to get her out.

The night passed in restless silence, both of them lying awake, their minds consumed by the memory of that kiss. The tension between them had reached a breaking point, and neither of them knew what would happen next.

But one thing was certain: things between them would never be the same.