“Are you an animal… always in heat?” Inside the girls’ dorm room, Lily’s cheeks were flushed, her lip bitten, as she writhed gently in my arms, releasing a series of hurried, delicate gasps. “You’re already this hot, still pretending, huh?” I smugly pulled out my finger, then slid it into her mouth, playfully teasing her small tongue. My name is Jake, and I’m a freshman in college. Freshman orientation had just ended a few days ago, and after being cooped up for half a month, I couldn’t wait to sneak into my girlfriend’s dorm. With her and her roommates covering for me, I successfully evaded the dorm supervisor, Ms. Jenkins’ inspection, and managed to stay overnight. After lights out, one hand pulled off my boxers while the other moved down Lily’s body. She pressed down on my invading hand, blushing as she whispered, “If you keep that up, I’ll scream.” “It’s fine, they’re used to it by now.” This wasn’t my first time spending the night in the girls’ dorm. I knew exactly what to do. I got up, pressed her head down towards my pelvis, blocking her mouth with my body. “St-stop… Mmmph…” Without her protests, I lifted Lily’s nightgown, and with a swift tug, ripped off her panties. Just then, I saw Chloe, sleeping on the opposite bed, stir. Was she peeking? I subtly glanced over and clearly saw Chloe’s chest heaving, her mouth slightly ajar, cheeks flushed, eyes hazy as she stared at my lower body, her small hand moving gently inside her sleep shorts. Our eyes met, and I was startled at first, then felt a rush of excitement. Chloe seemed so innocent, but it turned out she had a wild side. Watching Lily and me while pleasuring herself. I didn’t care if Lily noticed Chloe peeking. I grabbed Lily’s legs and spread them, then pounced on her like a wild stallion, my movements unyielding. “Ah… I can’t… Please, spare me…” She cried out until her voice turned to a tearful plea, her body limp, a melting puddle on the bed. The next day, as dawn barely broke, I was dragged out of bed by Ms. Jenkins. By the time I’d been reprimanded and left Dean Thompson’s office, lunch was already over. My bladder was about to burst; I hadn’t peed almost all day. I rushed towards the administration building’s restrooms. But when I reached the men’s room door, I found a sign on the floor with six large words: “Under Maintenance, Please Excuse.” I glanced back at the empty hallway. No choice, I had to use the women’s restroom. But I never imagined that after I finished peeing, before I even had my pants up, a petite girl with her head down pushed open a stall door. I stared in disbelief at the girl before me. It was Chloe. She was probably as stunned as I was, staring blankly at my lower body, frozen for a good ten seconds. Tap, tap, tap. Then, hurried footsteps echoed from outside. Without thinking, I grabbed Chloe and pulled her inside the stall. Immediately after, the adjacent stall door opened. The rustle of clothes, followed by the sound of urine hitting the bowl. The sound wasn’t loud, but in the empty restroom, it was piercingly clear. Chloe squirmed uncomfortably in my arms. I looked down at the delicate little thing, inhaling the faint scent of her hair. One hand slid down her lower back, cupping her incredibly elastic little butt. Probably from all her dance training, Chloe’s derrière wasn’t particularly fleshy, but the sensation was exquisite. Especially when her waist subtly twisted, her legs slightly swayed, the mound under my palm seemed to come alive, moving on its own, firming without me squeezing, shifting slightly, an endless delight. “Mmmph…” Chloe seemed to have little experience. A few casual touches from me sent a whimper from her, her breathing noticeably quickened, her body trembling slightly, completely melting in my arms. If I hadn’t been holding her, she would have collapsed to the floor. Could a girl really be this sensitive? Taking advantage of her inability to resist, I pulled hard with both hands, dragging her pants and underwear down to her knees, then pressed her, rear end exposed, against the stall wall. “N-no… I can’t…” Chloe struggled, using her hands to cover her butt, preventing me from getting my way, while whimpering softly, “I… I’m a virgin, I can’t be deflowered in a place like this…” “Then you’ll use your mouth instead.” Chloe quickly covered her small mouth with her hands. Knock! Knock! Just then, a knocking sound came from the adjacent stall, followed by a girl’s voice, “Chloe, what’s wrong?” It was Ashley, another one of Lily’s dormmates. “N-nothing…” “Why does your voice sound weird? Are you sick?” “Mmmph… Saw… saw a roach…” The toilet flushed next door. Ashley walked out of her stall to wash her hands. “Well, hurry up. I’ll wait for you outside.” Once Ashley left the women’s restroom, Chloe struggled out of my arms, trembling, “I… I can let you take my virginity… but not in a place like this…” With that, she forcefully broke free, pulled up her pants, and exited the stall, looking back at me every few steps. I slowly composed myself, and when the coast was clear, I slipped out too. That night, I waited alone outside the girls’ dorm. My only goal was to release some pent-up energy. But before Lily arrived, her three other dormmates showed up. “Hey, didn’t get enough yesterday? Planning to crash in our dorm again tonight?” “I heard you’re, like, eight inches? Even bigger than some guys… is it true?” It was Ashley who spoke. She was about 5’7″, loved wearing crop tops and tight jeans—the kind of figure that could drive a guy wild. Remembering the “powerful” sound of her peeing in the restroom earlier, my heart stirred. “Of course it’s true. Be careful, I might climb into the wrong bed tonight and ‘accidentally’ take you.” Ashley and another girl burst into laughter, giggling uncontrollably. Only Chloe, deep in thought, blushed scarlet. I looked up at Chloe, thinking that if Lily didn’t show, pulling Chloe to a hotel wouldn’t be a bad idea. Ashley waved a hand in front of my face. “You two have something going on, huh? Giving each other ‘the eye’?” At her words, Chloe’s face turned from a summer tomato red to an autumn eggplant purple. There was definitely something there! But then Ashley added, “Let me tell you, don’t do anything to betray your girlfriend while she’s sick.” “She’s sick?” I blurted out. Ashley countered, “You didn’t know?” “No, I didn’t. I’ll climb through your window to see her after lights out.” A sudden worry seized me, and I forgot about Chloe for a moment. Unlike yesterday, I usually snuck into the girls’ dorm first, hid on Lily’s bed, and waited for the room checks to finish before doing anything. But after being caught this morning, the girls’ dorm was bound to be on high alert. Evading a room check now would be nearly impossible. So, to stay overnight again, there was only one way: climbing through the window. After the room checks were done, I scaled the anti-theft grate on the dorm building. “Quick, open the window!” Lily complained as she helped me open it. “Are you insane? This is the third floor!” “For you, I’d climb thirty floors!” A chorus of groans filled the dorm. Ashley and another girl called me cheesy. “How’s your sickness?” Lily was almost in tears from emotion. “It’s just a common cold.” Just then, footsteps sounded outside the door. Turns out a girl on the second floor hadn’t gone to sleep yet, thought someone was breaking in, and alerted the dorm supervisor. The girls panicked. I was about to hide on Lily’s bed when she pulled me down. “You have a record. Hiding on my bed makes it too easy to find you. Go hide on the bed opposite.” So, I climbed onto Chloe’s bed. Ms. Jenkins stopped in front of Lily’s bed, peering inside by the moonlight. I lay on Chloe’s bed, hardly daring to breathe. But next to me was a girl wearing only underwear, practically spooning me. How could I resist? I quietly put my hand on Chloe’s butt, gently kneading. Her body trembled, but she didn’t make a sound. This made me even bolder. My other hand pushed aside her underwear fabric. “Are you sure no one came into your dorm?” Ms. Jenkins asked. “No one!” “Why isn’t the window closed?” “It was stuffy, so we opened it for some air.” The situation below was tense, but my mind was entirely on the girl in my arms. I gently lifted her right leg, pressing myself against her side. “Mmm…” Chloe let out a soft moan. Ms. Jenkins immediately looked over suspiciously. “What was that?” “Ouch!” Lily was quick to react. Seeing the situation, she immediately crouched on the floor, moaning in pain, “Oh, no, my stomach hurts so bad…wuwu~~~” The girls on the two nearby beds jumped down. “She’s sick, quickly, help her to the campus clinic!” “Why didn’t you say so earlier? Let’s go!” Amidst Ms. Jenkins’ urging, the group hurried out of the dorm. The room returned to quiet darkness. My heart blossomed with glee. I flipped over and pinned Chloe face down on the bed. Then I gripped her slender waist and lifted, her little butt curving high, and with one swift pull, her underwear was gone… “Mmm-hmm… I knew it… something was going on between you and Chloe… Ah…” The girl beneath me arched her hips to meet my thrusts, then twisted her head, revealing a face flushed like a sunset, her eyes full of both reproach and shyness. Even her moans became unbearably sweet, incredibly alluring. “You… you actually… really are eight inches…” I froze, dumbfounded. “Ashley? Is that you?” “What? Disappointed… or… scared… Didn’t you say you were going to take me… Ah…”

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“Oh God, this is… just incredible…” In the girls’ dorm room, a naked girl let out a cry that was almost a sob, her slender body arching forward, hands clutching the sheets, her whole frame stiff. I held her tight until she melted into a boneless puddle on the bed. My name’s Josh, and I’m a freshman in college. Yesterday, the pre-semester bootcamp ended, and my girlfriend, Ashley, who’d been pent up for half a month, wasted no time calling me into her dorm. Under the cover of her and her roommates, I managed to sneak past Dorm Supervisor Ms. Jenkins’s inspection and stay the night. “You wild thing, I want you…” As soon as the lights went out, Ashley grabbed my hand, pulling it under her nightgown, and kissed me. I playfully squeezed her butt. “They’re not asleep yet.” “Don’t think I don’t know…” Ashley wriggled her body against me, a beautiful leg wrapping around my waist. “Every time you make me feel like I’m dying… isn’t it on purpose, so they can hear you… doing me?” She whispered the last two words into my ear. “You naughty girl! Are you that eager?” Feeling Ashley’s wet tongue, I grew increasingly aroused. I pulled off her nightgown, hooked one arm around her wrists above her head, and pressed her down beneath me. “Yes… I’m a tease… don’t you like me a little wild?” Ashley rocked her hips, continuing to provoke me. “Am I wild enough tonight? Hmm?” “Wild? You’re absolutely ravenous!”

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My husband wasn’t able to satisfy me anymore. He knew I needed more, so he proposed an unconventional solution: a strong, single man. That tall, powerfully built athlete allowed me to rediscover that mind-blowing pleasure, making me feel alive again… My name is Maya, and I teach dance. Ever since the summer I turned eighteen, when I gave my virginity as a gift to my then-boyfriend, now husband, I truly awakened to the boundless desires within me. Back then, his own passion was just as fiery; he’d keep me pinned beneath him, making love four or five times a night. But after we got married and started our careers, he gradually grew more strained, often rushing things and spending less than ten minutes on foreplay. For the past six months, he hadn’t managed to satisfy me even once. That night, after yet another dull session, he exhaled a ragged breath. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, pulling out a few tissues to wipe me down. “That was a bit quick. Did you… get there?” I let out a soft moan, feigning contentment as I hugged him. “Of course, you were amazing.” I played along, eager to lull him to sleep so I could slip off to the bathroom and take care of myself. My body still felt suspended mid-air, an invisible hand tickling at my core, an agonizing burn between my legs. Once his breathing evened out, I quietly slid out of bed, opened my dresser drawer, and pulled out a skin-toned vibrating massager. I tiptoed into the bathroom. It was late tonight, so I had to be quick. I set the toy to a high setting, and my whole body felt like it was being lifted. I clapped a hand over my mouth, desperate to stifle my cries. Afterward, I carefully put my little helper away. A wave of sadness washed over me. Sigh. Am I destined to spend my life with a massager? I cleaned up, slipped into my lace nightgown, and returned to bed. My husband suddenly rolled over and wrapped his arms around me. “Sweetheart, how about I find a single man for you?” My heart seized up. He knew. “What are you talking about? Go to sleep!” I couldn’t sleep that night. On one hand, I was worried he’d found out about my little toy and feared hurting his pride. On the other, his suggestion stirred a torrent of restless thoughts. I enjoyed watching explicit films occasionally, and scenes of intense intimacy involving multiple partners always sparked fantasies. But what did my husband mean by that? Was he trying to trick me? I decided I couldn’t bring it up myself; it would make it seem like I was eager for it. But my husband wasn’t just talking. Two evenings later, right after dinner, he casually said, “How about you come with me to meet a friend later?” “Sure,” I replied, clearing the table. “The kind of friend I mentioned the other day. A single man.” Caught completely off guard, I froze. “What are you talking about? Are you actually serious about… letting someone else into our marriage?” He stood up, hugged me from behind, and spoke gently but firmly. “Maya, you’re in the prime of your desires right now, your needs are growing, but I’m slowing down. I might never be able to fully satisfy you.” “But we can’t be reckless! I’m not that desperate!” “Don’t worry. I’ve looked into a few athletes. We’ll try one tonight. I’m sure he’ll make you happy.” “You’re serious?” I was dazed, but his tone wasn’t joking. My heart fluttered, but I didn’t want him to see my flushed face, so I grabbed the dishes and escaped to the kitchen. My husband was truly going through with it, and as a woman, I found it hard to question him further. My mind churned, feeling like a puppet as he took my hand and led me out the door. On the way to the hotel, my steps felt ethereal, my mind completely numb. It wasn’t until he checked us into a room and told me to shower first that I snapped back to reality. I grabbed his hand. “Husband, is this really okay?” He patted my hand. “Trust me. Let go of your worries. Just enjoy the pleasure.” Those four words, “enjoy the pleasure,” held a magic that easily shattered my emotional defenses. My husband always knew how to break down my walls; he’d gotten me into bed after only a few dates, and it was still the same now. In the shower, I thoroughly washed myself, just as I had the first time I went to a hotel with him. Doing the same thing again brought a whirlpool of emotions, an unidentifiable mix of feelings. After cleaning, I picked a plain black lingerie set from my change of clothes, worried he might think I’d dressed up too much. When I put on the hotel robe, my husband pulled me into his arms. “Sweetheart, every time you put on that classic, elegant wife look, you absolutely mesmerize me.” I nestled quietly against him, my heart thumping wildly, my mind fixated on the stranger I was about to meet. I looked up, testing the waters. “Husband, that man…” I trailed off shyly, clutching his robe. He patted my behind, whispering, “He’s already in the elevator.” The moment the words left his lips, the doorbell rang. I almost leaped up, frantically asking my husband, “Where should I stand?” I knew it was a stupid question, but at that moment, I truly didn’t know what to do. My husband didn’t answer but kissed me. “Darling, I’ll always love you!” That sentence eased half my tension, but the other half still made my heart feel like it would burst from my throat. Seeing my uneasy expression, he kissed me again, then went to open the door. A powerfully built young man stood at the entrance, even taller than my six-foot-tall husband. He was a towering figure, completely blocking out the hallway light. “Let me introduce you. This is Liam. And this is my wife, Maya.” “Ma’am, you’re beautiful,” Liam said, offering me a gift he’d brought. His eyes gleamed with excitement and a raw hunger; clearly, my appearance and figure had pleased him greatly. “You… hello,” I managed, nodding, staring at the man who would soon enter my body. Blood rushed to my face, hot and burning. I struggled to suppress my nervousness. My husband, however, calmly accepted the gift. “Thoughtful of you. Why don’t you go ahead and shower?” “Alright, sir.” My husband took my hand and had me sit beside him. One hand stroked my hair, while the other slipped under my robe, caressing my full breasts. He leaned closer, speaking into my ear. “Relax, sweetheart. Let your body surrender to desire. I just want you to be happy.” His touch left me in a delicious haze, my mind flashing with exciting images. My husband was about to say more when the bathroom door opened. Liam emerged, wrapped only in a towel, revealing his sculpted muscles. His gaze swept over me, lingering particularly on my breasts, which my husband was still caressing, and my thighs. I didn’t actually feel any aversion to Liam’s gaze. From the moment he entered the room, I knew my husband had chosen a man to my liking: tall, strong, and powerful. “You two get acquainted. I’ll go take a shower too.” My husband left the room to me and Liam, stepping into the bathroom. Watching his back, I instinctively clutched my chest. Anticipating what was about to happen, I felt a warm, dark current surge through my body. “Ma’am, may I sit next to you?” “Mm-hmm.” I replied, my voice barely a whisper, shifting slightly to make room. Liam slowly moved closer, so close I could feel his hot breath on my cheek, sending shivers through me. “Ma’am, you smell wonderful. May I touch you?” he asked softly. “Mm-hmm.” This time, my voice was a little louder. Perhaps my compliance emboldened Liam. He skipped the tentative steps, directly reaching out to touch my breast. He was far more skilled at teasing a woman than he looked. He started by stroking over the robe, and seeing no resistance, his hand slowly slipped inside. The stranger’s hand felt warm and heavy. The moment it brushed my breast, my legs instinctively pressed together. There was even a hint of pleasure. I involuntarily closed my eyes, letting out a satisfied sigh. Seeing my reaction, Liam immediately leaned in to kiss me, his tongue deftly exploring my mouth. At first, I felt a touch of shyness, but in the face of my surging desires, I quickly succumbed, actively engaging in the passionate kiss. Our tongues tangled together, fiercely and wildly. He was fervent from start to finish, and I gradually caught fire, burning uncontrollably. My body, initially tense with nervousness, slowly relaxed. I had to brace myself with my hands on the bed to maintain balance. My reaction clearly encouraged him. His movements grew bolder. One hand kneaded my thigh, gently untied my robe’s belt, and slowly moved upward towards my inner thigh. The other hand unhooked my bra, gently laying me back on the bed, his head descending to bury itself in my chest. “Mmm…” I shuddered, instinctively arching my chest. In that instant, I felt my soul soar. Even without intimate contact, my body held almost no secrets from him. And the switch for my desires was on the tip of his tongue. He wasn’t satisfied, though. His warm, moist tongue slid down along my full curves, his fingers hooking the sides of my panties, gently pulling them down. “Give it to me…” My mind reeled. I was panting heavily, drenched in sweat, throwing my head back, and actively pulling my legs wide apart… Just then, I saw my husband emerge from the bathroom, looking at me with a complex expression. Suddenly, my vision went black. My last conscious thought was my husband’s frantic footsteps and his panicked voice.

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My face flushed, I leaned heavily against the counter at the school’s corner store, my legs trembling. From beneath the till, my math teacher, Mr. Evans, was doing unspeakable things that made my head swim, all while oblivious customers browsed the aisles. Once the last shopper left, Mr. Evans finally emerged from behind the counter, leaning in close, his hot breath caressing my ear. “Like my technique, do we?” he whispered. 1 My name is Scarlett. I’m a dance major, known as the ‘Campus Belle’ at Rosewood Arts Academy. This summer, I took on a job working at my parents’ corner store near the high school, making a hundred bucks a day. It wasn’t much, but school was out, so it was pretty chill. Most of the time, I just scrolled on my phone. The Rosewood summer, though, was relentlessly hot and humid. And my parents, trying to save a buck, refused to install air conditioning. Sometimes, when the heat became unbearable, I’d slip behind the cash register, sneak out my personal pleasure device, and find a moment of private comfort to soothe my simmering body. Today was particularly sweltering, the kind of mid-summer day that makes you feel like you’re swimming through the air. I’d already secretly shed my bra, but sweat still dripped from every pore, soaking my white tank top and shorts until they clung to me, translucent as wet tissue paper. My soaked tank top clung to my frame, making every curve – especially my fuller chest – unmistakably clear. After a long stretch of no customers, and seeing not a soul outside the store, I couldn’t resist. I grabbed my device, retreated behind the counter, and, just like any other day, closed my eyes, letting myself get lost in a haze of private comfort. But just as I was blissfully lost in my own little world, the door chimed. Mr. Evans, my math teacher from junior year, walked in. “Hey, little boss! Got any glue?” I froze, a jolt of shock coursing through me. My body went limp, trembling, and the device slipped from my fingers, clattering to the floor. By the time I snapped back to reality and dared to look up, I found Mr. Evans staring at me, a look of stunned disbelief mingled with something disturbingly like admiration in his eyes. My face instantly burned scarlet, a wave of mortification washing over me. I wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. God, this was beyond embarrassing! But embarrassing or not, I had a customer. I frantically pulled myself together, forcing my voice to stay steady as I stood up. “Mr. Evans, hi… Yes… yes, we do. It’s usually… under the counter.” My cheeks were on fire, and I kept my gaze fixed on the floor, terrified to meet his eyes. Even though I’d hastily adjusted my clothes, the damp fabric clung to me, outlining every curve as if I were barely dressed, especially without a bra. Mr. Evans, if he wanted, could probably see everything. Sure enough, his breathing grew heavier. I could feel his scorching gaze sweep over me, possessive and knowing. My lip trembled. Was he… was he interested? Was he imagining pressing me down right here on the counter? A sigh of relief escaped me when he didn’t say anything, just crouched down and began rummaging under the counter for the glue. I stole a glance at his back, a mix of chagrin and a strange flicker of excitement stirring within me. Actually, with the summer heat and lack of business, my parents had suggested closing the store for a break. But I insisted on staying. I had a secret: I’d had a crush on Mr. Evans for three years. My persistence in keeping the store open was all about creating opportunities to be near him. I loved his tall frame, his refined, handsome face, and the intense focus in his eyes when he stood at the chalkboard, classic wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, lecturing. His long, slender fingers, holding a piece of chalk, seemed to stir something in my heart with every stroke. But through three years of high school, I was just a student in the next classroom over. On top of that, my parents were incredibly strict, forbidding any teenage romance, let alone something as scandalous as a teacher-student affair. While my friends were exploring intimacy at friends’ houses, whispering tales of secret hookups and amazing experiences, I had to suppress my inner turmoil, my restlessness, and my envy. My feelings for Mr. Evans remained buried deep. That’s why I’d developed this bad habit of self-soothing—a way to vent my frustrations and my silent longing for Mr. Evans. But I never imagined my first real interaction with him would be him catching me in the act. Thinking about it, I felt like crying. Oh God, why me? How could I be so unlucky? Mr. Evans might not have said anything, but he must surely think I’m a loose, reckless girl, right? Still, judging by his reaction just now, he seemed… to like it? 2 “Little boss, are you sure the glue is here?” After a moment, Mr. Evans hadn’t found any glue. He stood up, looking puzzled, and asked me again. I suddenly remembered: we’d sold out of glue a few days ago. I was about to explain when his gaze paused. He seemed to spot something on the floor, then bent down and picked up a pink, oval-shaped object. There was wet residue on it. Mr. Evans brought a finger to his nose, a curious expression on his face. “What kind of glue is this?” he mused. “Smells… unusual. But it’s certainly sticky.” I peered at the pink object in his hand, and a wave of fresh panic crashed over me. It was my personal pleasure device, the one I’d fumbled and dropped! I instantly realized what the “liquid” was. My face turned crimson, and I quickly averted my eyes, utterly speechless. This was beyond mortifying. To my surprise, seeing my reaction, Mr. Evans paused. Then, as if understanding dawned on him, he didn’t show an ounce of disgust. In fact, he gave a wry, almost fond smile, and spoke gently to reassure me. “Ah, I see… that kind of stickiness!” he said. “Little boss, there’s nothing to be ashamed of! It’s perfectly natural. To be honest, sometimes when I’m alone in my apartment, I find myself needing to… unwind. It’s a normal human thing.” He paused again, then looked at me expectantly. “By the way, what’s your name? What should I call you?” My mind went blank. I couldn’t believe Mr. Evans, the cool and refined teacher, was openly sharing such a personal secret to comfort me. He did that too? And he was asking for my name? Was he trying to get closer to me? My heart pounded with a mix of excitement and nerves. God knew how many lonely nights I’d whispered his name to myself as I drifted off to sleep. How long had I waited for this moment? I had to seize this chance! A sudden idea sparked in my mind. I took a deep breath, gathered my courage, and met his gentle gaze. “Hi, Mr. Evans,” I stammered, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m Scarlett. But you can call me Scar.” I quickly added, “Mr. Evans, we sold out of glue two days ago. How about this: let’s exchange numbers, and when the new stock arrives tomorrow, I can personally bring it to your place?” A girl offering to come to a guy’s house? Even an idiot would get that hint. I waited, heart hammering, for his answer, secretly vowing that if he agreed, I would pull out all the stops. Even if I had to physically make a move, I’d make him mine. But what happened next was beyond anything I could have imagined. Mr. Evans apparently couldn’t wait until tomorrow for the glue. He seemed quite urgent. “Scar,” he said, his voice laced with concern, “I can’t wait until tomorrow. I have some urgent documents that need to be glued right away.” He frowned. “And I don’t know where else to find any at this hour.” He then looked down at his finger, still bearing the wet residue from my device, and then back at me. A strange look crossed his face, as if he’d just made a decision. He glanced quickly outside the empty store, then turned back to me, an embarrassed but persistent plea in his eyes. “Scarlett… could you… maybe help me find something similar to that? Something… sticky, to help with this?” … I was stunned. I never expected Mr. Evans to make such an outlandish request. My face flushed, my ears burning, as I instantly understood his meaning. If anyone else had suggested such a thing, I would have called the police on the spot. But this was Mr. Evans, the man I’d secretly adored for years. My heart didn’t hold a single ounce of reluctance; in fact, I had only one thought: I had to help him. Under Mr. Evans’ expectant gaze, my body trembled. I took a deep breath and nodded firmly. His eyes lit up with delight, and he quickly extended his hand, holding out my pink device. Just then, my phone suddenly rang.

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“Ah… I can’t take it anymore… you guys are going to kill me with pleasure…” “Godmother, hips higher please…” Late at night, I lay sprawled on the bed, my body limp, my hips raised high, manipulated into various positions by two strong men. It had been so long since I’d tasted such pleasure, and my primal desires, long buried deep within me, were finally unleashed. Until one of the men bit my ear, “Godmother, do you like the front or the back?” “Both… I like both…” I was a widow. Ever since my husband passed away, I had worked tirelessly to raise my son, hoping he would make something of himself. But one ordinary night, things began to spiral into an abyss beyond my control. That night, I was woken by the urge to pee, groggily getting ready to head to the bathroom. I noticed my son’s room was slightly ajar, and faint sounds of heavy breathing drifted out. It was so late, and Josh was still awake? I tiptoed closer, only to see him lying on his bed, indulging himself, with a black lace thong covering his face. I bit my lip. Though I’d had a premonition, seeing this scene still made my face flush crimson. What made my breathing quicken even more was the phone screen in Josh’s other hand. At first, I thought it was just a video to help him get in the mood, but when I heard vaguely familiar sounds through the speaker, I realized it was a video of him and a woman. And the woman pinned beneath him, clutching a pillow, frantically pushing her hips to meet his rhythm, was none other than Josh’s godmother, Denise. Denise was my college friend, my best friend. Years ago, we got pregnant almost simultaneously, agreeing that if we had a boy and a girl, we’d become in-laws. If we had two boys or two girls, they’d become godchildren to each other. But I never in my wildest dreams imagined her taking the role of “godmother” to bed! I couldn’t bring myself to watch any longer. Without even using the bathroom, I rushed back to my bedroom, sitting on the bed, lost in thought. Josh was at the peak of his vitality; every time I washed his underwear, I almost always found signs of nocturnal emissions. It was normal for him to have those urges. But why would he be involved with Denise? My thoughts drifted to my own godson, Tyler. Every time he saw me, he’d hug me, hold me, and lean into me. He’d say he was giving me a massage, but his hands would inevitably linger and roam. I used to feel flattered, thinking my charm hadn’t faded. Now, thinking back, he definitely had something going on in his mind about me. Especially every time he massaged me, he’d ask, “Godmother, does that feel good?” It was utterly humiliating. Just then, a soft knock sounded at the door. “Mom, are you asleep?” I glanced down at my lace nightgown; only two thin straps supported my full, pale curves, and other than the sheer skirt, there was no other cover. I pulled the blanket over my legs before telling him to come in. Josh, dressed only in a pair of boxers, pushed open the door, his face looking strange. I hugged my shoulders, covering the parts my nightgown didn’t conceal. “What’s wrong, Josh?” “I want Godmother and Tyler to come over tomorrow.” I bit my lower lip, surprised that he came to me in the middle of the night for this. But I wasn’t ready to face Denise yet. Especially with my son being so full of youthful energy, what if they couldn’t control themselves and did something? Should I avoid being there? Don’t let Denise’s usual delicate and frail demeanor fool you; she possessed a naturally captivating charm, a waist like a serpent, breasts full and round, and a pert, peachy behind. She was at an age of peak vitality, capable of drawing the very essence out of even the strongest man. If it happened too often, would it affect Josh’s health? But seeing the hopeful expression on his face, I agreed. The next evening, I tidied up the house, welcoming Denise and Tyler into our home. Tyler was even taller than Josh, easily over six feet three, and with his love for fitness and basketball, his physique was astonishingly muscular. As soon as he entered, he scooped me up in a bear hug, burying his face in my chest without a care in the world. “Godmother, I missed you so much!” “Godmother, your chest is so soft, not only much bigger than my mom’s, but it smells amazing too.” “Go on, go on, what are you doing…” My face flushed crimson with embarrassment. “You’re a grown man, still clinging to your old ways?” “It’s not like I haven’t before, Godmother, let me just have a taste again.” With that, Tyler leaned into my chest, and my bra was getting undone. I tried to stop him, but I couldn’t push him away. It wasn’t until he lingered there, taking a long, deep breath as if savoring something, that he finally put me down. “Godmother, you look truly beautiful today.” Perhaps it was the stirring of a dormant passion, ignited by what I’d learned about Josh and Denise, but I found myself truly enjoying Tyler’s awestruck gaze today. It certainly made choosing this figure-hugging, low-cut short dress worth it. And Denise seemed to have dressed up too. Though a widow, she wore a striking red dress, her captivating, upturned eyes hinting at a subtle allure, exuding a mix of innocence and brazen charm. Her whole being radiated the sensual vibe of a sophisticated woman. No need to ask, my son must have been responsible for this! I shot Josh a look of annoyance. That brat! He might be full of energy, but he shouldn’t be so reckless! Denise, unaware that I’d discovered their secret, sat down openly with Josh. They even shared drinks, their arms intertwined. The gooey-sweet look in their eyes, so thick it could be pulled into threads, clearly showed the shyness of a new bride. And Josh’s hand was constantly under the table; no doubt, he was stroking Denise’s thigh. Before long, Denise’s cheeks were flushed, and she was sighing softly, leaning against Josh’s lap. Though I couldn’t see what they were doing, the soft, squelching sounds coming from Denise’s mouth. They were so incredibly embarrassing, yet so strangely arousing. That little minx, she couldn’t be… pleasuring Josh with her mouth, could she? My whole body was burning hot, and I unconsciously kept pouring red wine down my throat. I started to feel a little anxious. If Tyler found out, that would be the end of it. Thankfully, Tyler’s attention remained entirely on me; he hadn’t even glanced their way. “Godmother, I’ve learned some new pressure points. Let me give you a massage!” I didn’t dare stay in the living room, so I took his hand and led him to the master bedroom. I lay face down on the bed. To my surprise, when Tyler placed his hands on my backside, it didn’t feel uncomfortable. Perhaps it was too much wine, or perhaps it was because we had played so many risky games before that I had already adapted to something that was bound to happen eventually. So, I didn’t refuse. Instead, I subtly lifted my hips, making it easier for him to undress me further. “Godmother, your backside is so beautiful.” My face was pressed into the pillow, my disheveled hair fanned out, hiding my cheeks and, with them, my shame. But as Tyler’s hands grew bolder, my legs began to tremble, and a thrill of breaking taboos, a mix of naughtiness and excitement, coursed through me. My glutes involuntarily clenched, then relaxed, then clenched again. My unprecedented compliance emboldened Tyler. As he undid my bra, he continued, “And your skin is so fair, like a creamy cake.” Then, his breath suddenly warmed my lower back, and he gave my backside a light bite. A warm, wet sensation traced its way from the base of my spine, following the curve of my waist and hips, up to my neck, and then behind my ear. “Oh…” I jolted. It tickled. So much. It was a tickle that went straight to my core, like an electric current, making me involuntarily arch my upper body, trembling uncontrollably. My period was still a week away, and this was when my desires were most intense. I unconsciously curled my toes, biting my lower lip tightly, afraid to open my mouth, straining every muscle in my body to fight the deep, bone-aching pleasure, terrified that I would let out an undignified moan. Finally, when I recovered and lay prone on the massage table again, I gasped heavily, almost pleading. “Godmother has always cared for you so much; is this how you treat her?” “Precisely because Godmother cares for me, I can’t bear to see you alone.” Tyler leaned in, biting my ear, “I will… make you feel on top of the world…” With that, he swiftly pulled down my underwear…

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From my neighbor’s balcony, I watched as a burly guy, probably in his early thirties, jogged on his treadmill. His wife had run off with some rich old man six months ago. Since then, he seemed to hold a grudge against every woman he met. His eyes were always narrowed, his jaw clenched, as if he wanted to devour us whole. Every attractive woman in our apartment complex was scared of him. But not me. I’m a freshman dance student, fresh out of high school. I’m light on my feet, flexible, and naturally graceful. And I’ve been a head-turner my whole life. From elementary school to middle school, I was always the most popular girl, the “it” girl. Now in college, I’m seen as this unattainable goddess. But what no one knows is that my “unattainable” image is just a facade. Outside of school, privately, I have a side that no one could ever guess. My neighbor, Dave, stands over six feet tall, broad-shouldered and powerfully built, with a healthy, tanned complexion. Every morning, he’s out on his balcony, working out on his treadmill. He only ever wears a pair of short athletic shorts. And almost every morning, I’m out on my balcony too, ostensibly practicing my dance moves. But really, it’s just an excuse to showcase my eighteen-year-old freshman self – my youth, my sensuality, my supple grace – for him. I wonder if he knew my parents had gone away on vacation, leaving me home alone. Because today, he was up much earlier than usual. The first thing he did, as always, was hit the treadmill on his balcony. Maybe it was because he didn’t see me right away, but he started making intentional noises, even faking a few coughs. Clearly, he was trying to get my attention, to let me know he was exercising and that I should join him on the balcony for my “practice.” I chuckled to myself, finding it amusing. Then, I flipped out of bed, eager to head out to the balcony. With my parents away, I felt even bolder. I chose something particularly daring and form-fitting. My tall, slender figure was accentuated, curves in all the right places. My long neck, my delicate arms, and a pair of legs as smooth as ivory were all on full display. Once on the balcony, I played coy. Even though I was doing this all for him, I deliberately turned my back. Yet, from the corner of my eye, I snuck glances at him. I was both surprised and thrilled to see that today, he too had become unexpectedly bolder. He wasn’t wearing his usual shorts. He was wearing nothing but a pair of extremely tight, elastic boxer briefs! 2 A thrill shot through me. Continuing my routine, I kept an eye on him from the corner of my vision, while subtly twisting my nimble, graceful body. With my back still to him, I performed a pole dance routine that was even more sensual and provocative than usual. My peripheral vision caught his eyes, wide and fixed on my swaying back, especially my full, curving hips. He stared with a ferocity that seemed to want to devour me whole, more intensely than ever before. He was already so tall, powerfully built, with a healthy, dark tan. Now, with that wild glint in his eyes, I couldn’t help but think of the overwhelmingly potent figures I’d seen in adult movies. I felt like I’d struck gold. I also recalled a rumor I’d once heard: his wife had left him for that rich old man because she couldn’t stand his endless, nightly torment. I truly couldn’t understand why she would feel that was torment. Wasn’t that what every woman secretly craved? If only I were his woman, how wonderful that would be! As this thought raced through my mind, I pictured myself forcefully pinned beneath him, a thrilling, heart-pounding image. I couldn’t help but launch into another pole dance. My movements were even more fluid, more alluring. His eyes widened further, that predatory glint, the desire to consume me, burning even hotter. Yet, I felt it wasn’t enough. As long as he could still control himself, I wouldn’t be satisfied. I needed to completely ignite the fire in his heart and body. I wanted him to burn with me, intensely and without restraint, until he couldn’t hold back anymore. By now, after two pole dance routines, I was slightly breathless, my body glistening with a light sheen of sweat. I seized the opportunity to make an even bolder move. It was the first time I had ever done something so daring in front of him on the balcony. Right there, under his ravenous gaze that promised to devour me, I began to change my clothes. Of course, because it was the first time, I still didn’t dare turn fully towards him. I kept my back to him, only letting him see my fair, supple skin. Though I hadn’t actually been with a man yet, my extensive experience with adult films had taught me more about men than most women my age. I knew that to truly entice a man, you couldn’t reveal everything at once. Nor could you let him have everything immediately. The more he only saw my alluring back, the more he would long to see my front. And the more I deliberately withheld it, the more he would crave, fantasize, and lose control, finally doing the wild thing I’d been longing for. I deliberately unfastened my top’s back clasp slowly, piece by piece, then slowly slipped off my shirt. Next, I bent over, slowly peeling off my ultra-short skirt… 3 Instead of quickly putting on the clean clothes I’d prepared, I picked up my towel and slowly, deliberately, began to wipe the beads of sweat from my body. From front to back… then from top to bottom… Throughout this entire process, I remained with my back to him. The whole thing lasted at least ten minutes before I had slowly and completely wiped myself dry. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his gaze behind me. It wasn’t just burning with a devouring intensity greater than ever before; it was truly ablaze with fire. I knew I had completely ignited the flame in his body and heart. But at that moment, I allowed myself a knowing smile. Then, I quickly dressed. After that, with a graceful turn, I left the balcony, entered the living room, and vanished from his sight, leaving him with nothing. My goal was to light that raging fire within him, but not be responsible for putting it out. I wanted him to suffer even more, to be tortured by desire. Then, at just the right moment, I would give him an opening. Only then, after being suppressed for so long, would he explode with uncontrolled urgency, like a rampaging beast. And only then could I truly become the leading lady of my own adult movie, experiencing the primal impact I craved. For the rest of the day, I secretly watched his movements. He spent the entire day restless and agitated, constantly pacing to his balcony and peering towards ours. From his craving eyes, I knew how desperately he wished I would appear on the balcony again. But I simply hid in my apartment, secretly amused. The more he acted this way, the more I wanted to tease him, leaving him wanting, but unsatisfied. As dusk approached, he took a phone call on his balcony. It sounded like a few buddies were inviting him out for dinner and drinks. Unable to decline their insistent invitations, he agreed. After hanging up, he didn’t leave immediately. Instead, he stared at our balcony a few more times, lingering with an air of strong reluctance and regret, before finally turning and going back into his room. A little while later, I heard him leave his apartment, his footsteps heading towards the elevator, then descending. He and his friends had a long dinner. By the time I heard him return, several hours had passed. I was watching an adult movie, waiting for him. As I listened to him open and close his apartment door, I glanced at my phone. It was nearly midnight. The first thing he did upon returning was rush out onto his balcony and peer towards ours again. In the dim night light, I saw the fierce flame burning even brighter in his eyes. A gust of night wind carried the strong scent of alcohol. Clearly, he’d had quite a bit to drink tonight. A secret delight fluttered in my heart. He was already tall, powerful, built like a primal force. Now, having drunk so much, wouldn’t he be even more uncontrollable, more overwhelmingly potent? But he didn’t see me. I was hiding in the shadows. He had no idea of my secret glee. He stayed on the balcony, looking around for a while, and when he didn’t see me, he turned away, disappointed and deflated, and went back into his room. I waited a little longer, estimating the time was right. Then, I grabbed my pink bath towel, dressed in something even sexier than what I’d worn during the day, and left my apartment. I walked to his door and rang his doorbell. The doorbell chimed for a while before I heard his heavy footsteps. When he reached the door, he only glanced through the peephole, and the next second, he urgently flung the door open. Just like that morning on the treadmill, he was completely bare-chested, wearing nothing but those extremely tight, elastic boxer briefs. His eyes held surprise, inquiry, and a burning, consuming fire. “You, do you need something?” His throat bobbed, his voice trembling. “Were you about to sleep? Did I disturb you?” I gave him a alluring smile. “No, no disturbance. It’s still early for sleep, I have trouble sleeping and usually stay up late on my phone. I was just about to take a shower, that’s why I’m dressed like this.” “Oh, good. I was also about to shower, but my water heater suddenly stopped working. I was wondering if I could borrow your bathroom? Would you mind?” “Mind? Of course not! Please, come in!” I smiled even more seductively, swaying my hips with a sensual, graceful movement, and stepped inside… 4 I deliberately brushed past him. His tall, powerfully built frame, over six feet, was like a tower. I’m only five feet five, so you can imagine how small I felt next to him, how stiflingly immense his presence was. But I liked that oppressive feeling. Even more, I loved the strong scent of alcohol and the palpable wave of male hormones radiating from him. As I brushed past, I intentionally pressed my soft, yielding body against his large, animalistic physique. In that instant, I felt the searing heat of his tanned skin. I was certain he felt the smooth, delicate texture of my skin, like snow. I distinctly felt his powerful body tremble uncontrollably. My own heart abruptly began to pound faster. But it was only a few fleeting seconds before I was past him, heading towards the bathroom. He stood there stunned for several seconds before snapping back to reality. Then, with a resounding thud, he quickly and securely closed the living room door, locking it. From the corner of my eye, I saw him staring at my graceful, sensual form as I headed towards the bathroom. His gaze was even more intensely predatory than in the daytime, promising to devour me. A hint of triumph and cunning, like a predator eyeing its prey, flickered in his burning eyes. But I wasn’t scared in the slightest. Instead, I gave a knowing smile with my back to him. The true hunters often appear as prey. Soon, we’d see who was truly whose prey! His apartment layout was identical to mine. But his decor was different. Especially his bathroom door – it was made of frosted glass, allowing vague shadows to be seen through it. This suited my plans perfectly. I entered the bathroom, closed the door, but not only did I not lock it, I deliberately left a tiny crack open. It was a clear invitation, implying he could push the door open and enter whenever he was bold enough. Next, I slowly undressed, admiring my perfect figure in the mirror for a while. Only then did I turn on the shower and step under the curtain of water. As I washed, I deliberately hummed a suggestive, teasing tune. Since I entered the bathroom, I hadn’t heard him move. I was sure he was standing not far from the bathroom door, looking in my direction. I was also certain that my entire showering process, and the faint, tall, shapely shadow of my perfect figure, were all being watched by him, his eyes wide, his desire to consume me even more intense. Too bad he hadn’t turned on the lights. The outer room was only lit by the dim light filtering in from outside the window. The bathroom light, however, was much brighter. This allowed him to stand in the relative darkness outside, brazenly peeking at my shadow projected onto the bathroom door, while I, from inside, couldn’t see him at all. But not seeing him didn’t matter. I could imagine. I couldn’t help but picture his naked body, save for those shorts, out there becoming even more monstrous, more primal than any beast. I smugly anticipated that if things continued this way, it wouldn’t be long before the fire inside him would rage even hotter, and he would lose all control, pushing open the bathroom door and rushing in… 5 I’d seen countless adult films. Many of them featured scenes in bathrooms. I’d always longed for a bathroom encounter. We could shower together. I could scrub his entire body, and he could scrub mine. And of course, when the internal fire burned beyond control, we could burn together like kindling, consumed by the flames. However, to my surprise, after almost half an hour, what I had confidently expected still hadn’t happened. Not only did he not push open the bathroom door and rush in, he didn’t even say a single provocative word to me from outside. It was as if he wasn’t even in the room outside, as if he had left like a perfect gentleman. But I clearly hadn’t heard him leave. Puzzled, I turned off the shower and listened intently. I heard heavy, ragged breathing coming from the room outside. So, he hadn’t left after all. He must have been breathing heavily because my shadow on the bathroom door was teasing him. It seemed that despite his tall, powerful build, like a beast, he only had the desire of a beast, but none of its courage. He only dared to hide in the dark outside, peeking at my shadow on the bathroom door and fantasizing, but lacked the courage to rush in. How disappointing! After his wife ran off, he’d apparently become so hostile towards women that every woman in the complex was terrified of him. Especially me – he’d always eyed me as if he wanted to devour me whole. But when I actually gave him the chance, he didn’t even have the guts to burst into the bathroom! It seemed my teasing wasn’t enough. He’d even had so much to drink tonight. If I couldn’t provoke him into rushing into the bathroom even when he was drunk, I was truly a failure! But I wasn’t disheartened. In fact, I firmly believed that if I kept trying, tonight, I, the true hunter appearing as prey, would definitely turn him into my real prey. So, I didn’t rush to open the door and leave. Instead, I wiped the misty mirror, then admired my perfect, ivory-skinned body, still glistening with water droplets, in the reflection. And I did this while leaning over the sink, admiring myself in the mirror. I was sure the shadow of me on the bathroom door would show my waist perfectly arched, my full hips perfectly tilted high. I hummed a song, not the teasing tune from before, but a luridly suggestive song that had been popular on social media recently, one that described body parts in a lewd and provocative way. I simply refused to believe that in this moment, in this setting, he could resist the temptation of such a song sung by a fresh, tender eighteen-year-old college girl. 6 Yet, I still didn’t get him to rush into the bathroom. I only heard his ragged breathing outside growing faster and heavier. I suspected he was uncontrollably doing what I’d seen many times in adult movies, focused on my shadow on the bathroom door. It seemed I had overestimated him after all. He might be tall and powerfully built, with the physique of those primal figures from adult movies, but he lacked their animalistic ferocity and daring! He only dared to satisfy himself by staring at my shadow on the bathroom door, not by actually rushing into the bathroom to do the crime I’d secretly craved. It was clear I needed to resort to more extreme measures. So, I stopped admiring myself in the mirror and stopped humming the suggestive song. I didn’t even bother drying my hair or body. Still soaking wet, I wrapped myself in my towel and pushed open the bathroom door, stepping out. His increasingly rapid and heavy breathing suddenly ceased. So, he really was doing that to my shadow on the bathroom door. He must have been startled by my sudden appearance and quickly stopped, right? I couldn’t help but smile, amused and alluring, as I looked his way. In the dim light, I saw him, indeed, lying on the sofa, unmoving. His large hands were placed in a very particular position, quite suggestive, sparking all sorts of impure thoughts. I was even more certain now that my earlier suspicions were correct. He had indeed been doing what I’d guessed, fixated on my shadow on the bathroom door. And he had indeed been startled by my sudden emergence, freezing in place. His face was somewhat flushed. Was it from guilt, from shame and embarrassment? I never would have thought that a man who instilled fear in all the women in the complex, a man who constantly watched me with murderous intent, wanting to devour me whole, could ever feel guilty, or blush from shame and embarrassment. But his flush lasted only a few seconds. His eyes, wide and fixed on me, once again blazed with that familiar devouring intensity he usually held when he watched me. His throat still bobbed. I heard a loud gulp as he swallowed. In that moment, he was a starved wolf, and I, a lamb waiting to be slaughtered. Compared to his over six-foot, powerfully built frame, I, a five-foot-five freshman girl, was so delicate. I was only wrapped in a towel, which was so short it barely covered anything. And the parts that were exposed, glistening in the dim light, seemed even more luminous, like pure snow. Especially the shimmering water droplets rolling down my neck, tracing paths along the expanse of my pale chest, slipping into the valley between my breasts, and disappearing beneath the towel. In this moment, this scene, how could he, a man radiating strong alcohol and primal hormonal scents, like a beast of pure masculine power, possibly resist? How could he not look at me with even more ravenous eyes, salivating and gulping? “Thank you, I’m done. You can go wash up now. Goodnight…” I said, choosing this very moment to play my game of enticing yet retreating. With that, I turned and headed towards the living room door. But after only a few steps, I deliberately “slipped,” tumbling to the floor. My towel instantly slid off my naked body. I lay on the floor, head and waist buried low, but my full hips were perfectly angled towards him on the sofa, arched high.

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“Godmother, open wide.” The words barely registered. Tonight, I lay naked, clutching a pillow, my hips arched high, head thrown back in a submissive arch, sandwiched between two strong men. “Mmmph… I can’t… it’s too much… too much…” I was a widow. Since my husband passed, I’d poured my heart and soul into raising my son, Leo, hoping he’d make something of himself. But one ordinary night, things began to slide into a chasm beyond my control. That evening, I was woken by a full bladder and groggily made my way toward the bathroom. Yet, as I passed Leo’s room, I noticed his door was ajar, and faint, muffled sounds of gasping drifted out. So late, and Leo’s still awake? I crept closer, then froze. Through the crack, I saw him on his bed, pleasuring himself. A black lace thong was draped over his face. I bit down on my lip. Although I’d had my suspicions, seeing it laid bare sent a scorching flush through me. What made my breathing hitch even more was the screen of Leo’s phone, clutched in his other hand. At first, I assumed it was just one of his private videos. But when the faint, disturbingly familiar sounds from the speaker reached me, I realized it was a video of him in bed with a woman. And the woman pinned beneath him, clutching a pillow, thrusting her hips wildly to meet his rhythm, was none other than Leo’s godmother, Denise. Denise was my college friend, my closest confidante. Years ago, we’d both been pregnant around the same time and joked that if we had a boy and a girl, we’d tie our families together. If we had two boys or two girls, they’d become godchildren to the other. But I never in my wildest dreams imagined her taking her ‘godmother’ duties right to his bed! I couldn’t bear to watch another second. I hurried back to my room without even making it to the bathroom, my mind racing as I sat on my bed. My son was at the peak of his vitality; every time I washed his underwear, I found evidence of nocturnal emissions. It was natural for him to have needs. But why, why with Denise? My thoughts involuntarily drifted to my own godson, Alex. Every time he saw me, he’d hug me tight, kissing my cheek. He’d say he was giving me a massage, but his hands would invariably stray, roaming over me. I used to feel a little smug, thinking I still had my charm. Now, thinking back, he must have been interested in me all along. Especially when he’d ask during our ‘massages,’ “Godmother, did that feel good?” It was utterly mortifying. Just then, a soft knock came at my door. “Mom, are you asleep?” I glanced down at my lace nightgown. Two thin straps barely supported my pale, soft breasts, and the sheer skirt offered little coverage. I pulled a throw over my legs before telling him to come in. Leo, clad only in boxers, pushed the door open, his expression odd. I instinctively crossed my arms, shielding the parts my nightgown didn’t quite cover. “What is it, Leo?” “Tomorrow, I want Godmother and Alex to come visit.” I bit my lower lip. I hadn’t expected him to approach me about this in the middle of the night. I wasn’t ready to face Denise. Especially with my son so full of vigor – if they got carried away, should I just leave them to it? Denise usually seemed delicate and fragile, but she had a naturally alluring face, a waist like a serpent’s, breasts full and rounded, and buttocks firm and lush like peaches – the kind of figure that made men go wild. She was at an age of intense vitality, capable of draining even the strongest man dry. Wouldn’t such frequent activity affect Leo’s energy? But looking at his hopeful expression, I relented. The next evening, I tidied the house, welcoming Denise and Alex through the door. Alex was taller than Leo, well over six feet, and with his love for fitness and basketball, his physique was astonishingly well-built. As soon as he stepped inside, he swept me into a hug, unabashedly burying his face in my chest, rubbing against me. “Godmother, I missed you so much!” “Godmother, your breasts are so soft, so much bigger than my mom’s, and they smell incredible.” “Oh, stop it, you! What are you doing?” I flushed crimson. “You’re a grown man, still wanting milk?” “It’s not like I haven’t had them before, Godmother. Let me taste them again.” With that, Alex directly pulled down my neckline and began kissing and sucking at my chest, almost tearing my bra in the process. I tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t budge. Not until he’d sucked greedily a few times, satisfying his craving, did he finally let me go. “Godmother, you look truly beautiful today.” Perhaps it was the fire sparked within me by Leo and Denise’s secret, but I found myself strangely enjoying Alex’s awestruck gaze tonight. My choice of a form-fitting, low-cut short dress had certainly paid off. Denise, too, seemed to have dressed up. Though a widow, she wore a striking red dress, her alluring, upturned eyes radiating an intoxicating blend of innocence and brazen allure. She exuded the sensual air of a seasoned woman. There was no need to ask; my son must have been… nourishing her. I shot a resentful glare at Leo. That rascal, so much energy, but he shouldn’t squander it like that! Denise, unaware I knew their secret, openly settled beside Leo. They even shared a drink, their eyes locked in an almost inappropriate way, a sickly sweet gaze that stretched like taffy, her expression the shy demeanor of a new bride. Leo’s hand was under the table, and if I wasn’t mistaken, his hand was on Denise’s thigh, maybe even lower. Before long, Denise’s cheeks were flushed, soft whimpers escaped her lips, and she practically melted onto Leo’s lap. Though I couldn’t see what they were doing, the wet, sticky sounds she made—”gurgles and squishes”—were both utterly mortifying and incredibly arousing. That little hussy, was she… pleasuring him down there? My body felt hot, and a sense of urgency began to prickle. If Alex noticed, it would be over for me. Thankfully, Alex’s attention was fully on me; he hadn’t even glanced their way. “Godmother, I’ve learned a few new special pressure points. Let me give you a massage!” I didn’t dare stay in the living room. Taking his hand, I led him to the master bedroom and lay face down on the bed. To my surprise, when Alex placed his hands on my buttocks, I didn’t feel any discomfort. Perhaps it was the wine, or perhaps the countless suggestive interactions over the years had accustomed me to something like this inevitably happening. So not only did I not refuse, I even lifted my hips slightly to make it easier for him to pull down my dress. “Godmother, your backside is so beautiful.” My face was pressed into the pillow, my disheveled long hair falling, covering my face and, mercifully, my blush. But as Alex’s hands grew bolder, my legs began to tremble. A forbidden thrill, a rush of excitement from doing something wrong, spread through me. My butt cheeks involuntarily clenched, then relaxed, then clenched again. My unprecedented submission emboldened Alex further. As he unhooked my bra, he continued, “And your skin is so fair, like a cream cake.” Then, his warm breath suddenly ghosted over my lower back, and he gently bit my backside. His warm, moist tongue traced a path from my tailbone, up the curve of my waist and hip, all the way to my neck, and then to behind my ear. “Oh…” I shuddered. It tickled. It tickled so much. It was a tickle that went straight to my core, like an electric shock. I involuntarily arched my upper body, trembling uncontrollably. My period was still a week away, and this was when my desire was at its peak. I unconsciously curled my toes, biting down hard on my lower lip. I dared not open my mouth, straining every muscle in my body to fight the intense, aching numbness that reached my very core, terrified I would let out a shameless, wanton moan. Finally, when I regained my composure, I collapsed back onto the bed, breathing heavily. “Godmother has been so good to you, and this is how you treat her?” “It’s precisely because Godmother is so good to me that I can’t bear to see you widowed any longer.” Alex leaned down, biting my earlobe. “I’ll make you… feel like you’re flying…” Just then, the bedroom door suddenly opened. Leo, naked, carrying a flushed Denise in his arms, walked in and laid her down beside me. As if on cue, Alex abruptly pulled down my panties…

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When Liam Sterling first cheated, he dragged his mistress before me, eyes blazing, and declared I could do as I pleased with her. Back then, I loved him fiercely, so I forgave him this supposed “accidental lapse.” The second time he strayed, I sent the woman overseas, forbidding her to ever return. But on the night of our engagement party, Liam grabbed my throat, pressing a blade cold against my stomach, his eyes bloodshot as he demanded: “Where’s Chloe? She’s pregnant, do you know that?” “It’s my fault I couldn’t control myself. Take your anger out on me. Chloe’s just a young girl, she shouldn’t suffer for this. Please, I’m begging you, once the baby is born safely, I’ll never see her again.” “You’re afraid of the pain of childbirth, aren’t you? What if we just have this one child, the one in Chloe’s belly? I promise, the child will only recognize you as their mother; that’s my vow to you.” The blade pierced my skin, and blood welled around the cut. I looked at him, smiling faintly, and told him Chloe’s whereabouts. After he slammed the door and left, I fumbled for my phone, my hands trembling, and dialed a familiar number: “You were right this time. Can you still help me?” A string of curses came from the other end, the man’s voice laced with exasperation: “Why didn’t you say something sooner? I’m already out of the country, how can I help you now?” “Aubrey Hayes, I’m telling you, how can someone as smart as you fall for the same guy twice? Did you use all your emotional intelligence just to throw yourself at him?” I pressed hard against the wound on my abdomen, my voice growing increasingly bitter: “I’m sorry. I owe you this one. Next collaboration project, thirty percent off. Is that enough?” The man on the other end instantly perked up, his tone brightening with excitement: “Send me the time and location. I’ll be there, no doubt.” “Next time you have a ‘collaboration’ like this, remember to call me! Absolutely fair and square.” I sent the complete wedding plan to Jax. He quickly responded with an ‘OK’ emoji. The wedding suite, once meticulously prepared, was now a wreck, vandalized by Liam, much like my own shattered heart. After tending to my wound alone, I stumbled out of the villa. As soon as I checked into a hotel, Liam’s call came through. Despite the loud hum of the airplane engines, I still acutely picked up the suppressed fury in his voice: “Aubrey, I’m on a flight out of the country right now. I can’t be with you tonight, so get some rest. I was just too emotional earlier, I never meant to hurt you.” “Is the injury serious? Should I send my private doctor over to check on you—” “No need,” I cut him off coldly. Liam’s tone immediately dropped, growing sharper: “Aubrey, didn’t I tell you? Chloe and I were just an accident. Someone drugged me, and I mistook her for you. It’s happened, are you going to let a Sterling child be born overseas?” “You forgave me once before, didn’t you? Why are you being so unreasonable this time? The wedding is in a week. Just calm down tonight.” I stared at my chat history with Jax, and said coldly: “No need. I won’t marry you.” “Liam Sterling, I told you, I don’t tolerate infidelity.” I was about to hang up when he suddenly erupted: “Not marry me? What kind of joke is that? The engagement party’s done. The whole world knows the Sterlings and the Hayes are uniting. You’re saying this now? Using our alliance to threaten me?” “Aubrey, we grew up together. I know you better than anyone. Unless I was set up, I would never betray you!” “They say the third time’s the charm, and I’ve only made two mistakes. Once the child is born, I promise Chloe will never appear before you again. Isn’t that enough?” Tears suddenly welled up, and a bitter smile touched my lips: “So, what? You want me to look at the child you had with another woman every day, to remind myself of your mistakes every day?” “Liam Sterling, I can’t do it. I’m sorry.” The moment the words left my mouth, his enraged roar came from the other end: “Fine, remember what you said! Don’t you dare regret it!” “Which man of my status doesn’t have a mistress? I handed Chloe over to you to deal with; I’ve done all I can. If you can accept it, marry me. If you can’t, get out, and do whatever you want!” The call ended, and the glass of the floor-to-ceiling window mirrored my disheveled appearance. Suite 13520. It used to be his favorite meeting spot. He said it was filled with memories of our love. Valentine’s Day, birthdays, anniversaries… This room had practically become ours. But now, only I remembered those things. Liam broke the news of the broken engagement to my parents, and they immediately called to question me. “Aubrey, what happened? Liam said you want to call off the wedding?” “This isn’t a game, you can’t be so reckless.” I buried myself deep under the covers, my voice catching in my throat: “His mistress is pregnant.” “Which man doesn’t make mistakes? Just have it taken care of—” “I’m not calling off the wedding. I’m just changing grooms. You know him too, Jax Carter.” My father’s attempts to persuade me caught in his throat, and my mother gasped in astonishment: “Jax Carter? Aren’t you two sworn enemies? Have you forgotten when he almost set your hair on fire when you were kids?” I smiled, trying to keep my voice light: “Exactly. So I want to marry him. To torment him for a lifetime.” 2 Tossing and turning, the wound on my abdomen kept me awake all night. When morning broke, I contacted a real estate agent to sell the wedding villa. Returning to pack my things, I saw Liam’s private jet still parked on the lawn. Pushing open the door, my eyes fell on walls covered in warm photos. Only, the figures in the pictures weren’t me; they were Chloe Adams. The Arctic glaciers, the Eiffel Tower, the burnt-out Notre Dame. All the places we had once visited together, he had taken Chloe to see them all again. He used to say he hated taking pictures. Being in his position, who knew what reporters or rivals would do with his photos. No matter how much I begged or promised, we never had a single photo together. But now, Chloe was his exception. They stood together beneath the photo wall, Chloe caressing her barely noticeable bump, her smile bright. “Liam, when the baby’s born, let’s take them to these places, okay?” “They’ll love it, I’m sure! Feel, they’re kicking me already!” The sound of the door opening drew their attention. They turned and saw me. Chloe immediately dropped to her knees in front of me, embracing my waist, begging and apologizing. “Aubrey, it’s my fault. I didn’t keep my promise to stay overseas. Please don’t be mad at me, okay?” “I just love Liam too much… I swear, I’ll leave once the baby is born. I won’t be in your way…” Before I could speak, Liam scoffed. “No need to apologize to her. You were drugged too, and met me by accident. If anything, I’m the one who owes you.” He lifted his eyes and looked at me. “Aubrey, I’ve found out who drugged us. That company will be shut down within a month.” “Chloe is innocent, forced into a mistake. You shouldn’t blame her. I can overlook this incident; just apologize, and we can move past it.” I looked back at him, my gaze devoid of any emotion. It was just laughable. “Me apologize? Liam Sterling, have you lost your mind?” The next second, the hand on my waist tightened sharply, hitting my wound. I gasped in pain, cold sweat drenching me. I quickly pushed her away. I hadn’t used much force, but Chloe stumbled back and fell against a cabinet. “What do you think you’re doing!” Liam abruptly shoved me, and my forehead hit the doorframe hard. Blood immediately trickled out. “I think you’re the one who’s lost your mind!” “Chloe has already bowed to you, and I’ve explained everything. What more do you want?” “Apologize, or you can try me!” I clenched my jaw, swallowing a wave of humiliation, and enunciated each word: “No. Way.” “Apologize to your mistress? Liam Sterling, you must be dreaming!” “Unbelievable!” Liam’s eyes turned red with anger. He quickly scooped Chloe into his arms and carried her to the bedroom to rest. As he came out, he called all the villa staff. “Get the restraints. My fiancée is clearly delirious. Make her kneel on the grounds until she calms down! She’s not to get up without my permission!” 3 My eyes instantly turned bloodshot. I looked at him, disbelief flooding me. “Liam Sterling, you’re insane! She’s just a mistress, and you dare to treat me like this?” “This is my house!” “But I’m the man of the house.” Liam gave me a cold glance and said nothing more. The staff quickly dragged me outside. A long trail of blood stained the ground. The moment the villa gates closed, a sudden clap of thunder echoed in the clear sky. Then, the heavens opened, and a torrential downpour began. I was quickly soaked to the bone. Kneeling in the rain, the cuts on my forehead and abdomen began to burn. My consciousness slowly blurred. I looked at the supervising staff member, my voice weak to the extreme: “Let me go… please, call Liam over, please…” The staff member, observing me with a look of amusement, stood under the eaves, a mocking smile on their face. “Save it. I’ve seen enough of your pity parties.” “Mr. Sterling just called the private doctor. He’s busy tending to Ms. Adams’s injuries right now.” I strained my eyes upwards. Figures were faintly visible on the second-floor balcony. The next second, my vision went black, and I collapsed completely onto the ground. In my unconscious state, I heard the staff’s urgent shouts: “Oh no, Ms. Hayes has fainted!” “There’s blood on the ground! Quick, get the doctor to come here!” Familiar footsteps approached, and an umbrella was held over my head. Liam’s voice was unusually cold. “Had enough of acting?” “Anyone would think you were the pregnant one.” “Aubrey, it’s time you learned to control your temper. I’m doing this for your own good.” Footsteps receded. He and Chloe stood embracing under the eaves, looking in my direction. Chloe weakly nestled into his arms, her voice aggrieved: “Liam, Aubrey doesn’t seem to be faking. Are we being too harsh on her?” “After all, she’s your fiancée. If the Hayes family found out…” Liam’s face hardened. “I’ve worked my way up for years. I don’t need to be dictated by the Hayes family.” “She was being unreasonable first. Chloe, you still have eight months until the baby’s born. You can’t let her bully you constantly. Her temper needs to be reined in.” A flicker of triumph crossed Chloe’s eyes, quickly replaced by an innocent expression. “I heard that arranged marriages in elite families often lack emotion. Is it the same for you and Aubrey?” The relentless downpour mercilessly battered my pale face. For a moment, I felt as if my heart had stopped. The next second, Liam’s emotionless voice sounded beside my ear. “Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown. Born into the Sterling family, a marriage alliance is my inescapable destiny. Since I have no choice, I can only accept it.” “Aubrey is beautiful, and innocent. Compared to other domineering heiresses, she was the best choice.” Tears streamed from the corners of my eyes, mixing with the mud. Liam looked at Chloe with doting affection, his eyes finally showing genuine emotion. “I thought I would live my entire life that way. Your appearance, Chloe, is a gift from above.” “Thank you, Chloe.” Each biting word pierced my heart. I couldn’t tell which hurt more, my body or my soul. The memories of our childhood together grew hazy. What I thought was innocent young love, what I believed was deeply rooted affection, turned out to be nothing but lies. How ridiculous that my only wish for twenty years of my life was to marry him. To help his career flourish and soar to great heights. The boy who, under the willow tree, broke off a branch to make me a crown, had truly faded into memory. My taut nerves suddenly snapped, and fresh blood began to gush from my abdomen. Liam finally noticed something was wrong and roared at the staff nearby: “What are you waiting for? Go check on her!” “If anything happens to Ms. Hayes, none of you will have a job!” 4 In my haze, my body was repeatedly shaken. Then, I was enveloped in a warm embrace. The familiar scent of pine wood seemed to take me back to when it was just the two of us. But when I opened my eyes, I had been moved into a guest room. Liam sat by the bed. His face was full of anger and coldness. “Why didn’t you tell me you were injured?” “Aubrey, are you really that stubborn? When will you ever change your temper?” Ignoring his emotions, I turned my head to survey the room. It was shabby and disorganized, worse than the staff’s quarters. And who was staying in my original master bedroom was clear without a doubt. A cold smile touched my lips. I didn’t even glance at him. “My temper has nothing to do with you.” “The person you should be most concerned about right now is Chloe.” I propped myself up and tore off the gauze bandage from my abdomen. “Also, a reminder: this is my house. Please have your mistress move out as soon as possible.” Liam was completely enraged by my indifferent attitude. He immediately stood up and roared furiously: “Enough! Are you really that intolerant?” “I had Chloe move in because I wanted you two to look after each other, not for you to act so irrational!” “Forget it. Chloe still has eight months until the baby is due. You can use that time to calm down. When the child is born, I don’t want their mother to be a lunatic!” He threw down these words and left without looking back. I lifted the duvet; the wound on my knee had already been treated by the doctor. I couldn’t help but let out a cold laugh. Everything I had suffered was thanks to him, and now he was trying to act like a good person? The laughter from downstairs continued. I took out my phone and lowered the villa’s asking price again. I didn’t want to see this painful place for another moment. That evening, the staff prepared a table full of food. Most of it was seafood, which Liam was allergic to. I stood on the second floor and watched for a moment, recalling how Liam used to order in restaurants, unwilling to compromise for me. It turned out love and not loving were so obvious. Returning to what was once the master bedroom, my original luggage had already been thrown out. That saved me some trouble, at least. After ordering a cab on my phone, I turned to leave. Chloe appeared in front of me, carrying a tray of food. She smiled sweetly. “Aubrey? What, are you here to see your room? Oh, sorry, Liam said the pregnant woman gets priority, so this room is mine now.” “If you’re looking for any trash, you might want to check the garbage bin. There’s nothing here, sorry.” What she called trash were the gifts Liam had once given me. A cold smile played on my lips as I looked at her. “Chloe, what you value as treasure isn’t necessarily treasure to me.” “I can let you have the house, and I can let you have the man. But remember, what’s taken by force will be taken by force. You weren’t his first woman, and you won’t be his last.” Chloe’s face hardened, and she deliberately smashed the food tray in her hands. “Who are you trying to fool? A worn-out plaything like you, only tough talk!” “I don’t need you to ‘let’ me have him. Liam will only choose me. Don’t believe it? Just watch!” With that, she suddenly shrieked, ran her hands through her long hair, and dashed towards the terrace, stumbling back and falling off the terrace. Only one arm was supporting her weight as the cold night wind whipped around her. Chloe cried more and more miserably. “Aubrey, why are you doing this to me?” Before I could react, Liam kicked the door open. He rushed forward in three strides, pulling Chloe up from outside and holding her tightly in his embrace. Turning back to me, he furiously slapped my face. “Aubrey, are you never going to stop?” Chloe hid in his arms, both hands clutching her stomach, her voice weak. “Aubrey, I’ve already apologized to you. Why can’t you just leave me alone?” “The baby is innocent. When the baby is born, I’m willing to atone with my life. Please, spare the Sterling family’s bloodline…” I frowned, about to speak. Liam said coldly: “Aubrey, kneel!” I looked at him in disbelief. “You suspect me?” Placing Chloe on the bed, Liam turned and walked towards me, his eyes full of ruthlessness. “Why shouldn’t I suspect you? First, you sent Chloe overseas, then you deliberately pushed her. This is the third time!” “Aubrey, how am I supposed to trust you?” The love I once held for him vanished in that moment. Without giving me a chance to explain, Liam carried Chloe and quickly left the villa. I tore down and burned the photos on the walls, one by one. At midnight, the real estate agent sent me a message. “Ms. Hayes, someone is willing to buy the house at full price, no discount needed. When are you available to sign the contract?” “Tomorrow.” I dismissed all the villa staff. For a whole week, Liam never showed up. Photos of him, secretly taken by passersby, occasionally surfaced from the hospital. He was either registering at the obstetrics and gynecology department or picking up medication for Chloe on the first floor. On the morning of the wedding, Liam drove the wedding car to the villa to pick me up. He opened the door and was met with a stranger’s face. His brow instantly furrowed. “Where’s Aubrey? Who are you?” His assistant rushed up behind him, breathless. “Mr. Sterling, you’ve made a mistake! Ms. Hayes already sold this house!” “Ms. Hayes is marrying into the Carters today!”

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Mr. Harrison Sr. owed the Miller family a life-altering debt. Mrs. Collins used that debt to force Grandpa Harrison to make Jake marry me. For ten years, he’d hated me. He’d even paraded countless women into his bed just to spite me, to drive me away. I became the joke of our elite circle, yet Jake would just coldly tell me, “What right do you have to feel wronged? You brought this on yourself.” Everyone believed I’d cling to Jake forever. He thought so too. Until the person I trusted most, betrayed me. My resolve shattered. The moment I handed him the divorce papers, a wave of relief washed over me. I smiled, a genuine, unburdened smile. “Finally,” I whispered, “this charade of a marriage can end.” 1 I stepped onto the yacht, the party’s wild energy already hitting its peak. In the center of the crowd, Jake Harrison lounged on a sofa, his posture effortlessly casual. That familiar back, a sight that still made my heart ache. She was perched on Jake’s lap, looking alluring, her fingers playfully tracing his neck. Men and women raised their champagne glasses, shouts of “Kiss! Kiss!” echoing around. Brittany Collins’ cheeks were flushed, her eyes gleaming with a reckless desire. Jake’s eyes narrowed slightly, sweeping over the crowd. A slow smirk curved his lips. Without a flicker of hesitation, he pointed me out. “Look over there,” he drawled, “your best friend is watching us.” A collective turn, and then silence. Their eyes, filled with open mockery, landed on me. Someone, I couldn’t tell who, broke the silence with a snide “Hey, Mrs. Harrison!” Others quickly followed suit. Brittany, still on Jake’s lap, glanced at me, showing no intention of moving. I clenched my fists, my gaze locked on her. My heart was bleeding, gushing tears of blood I couldn’t shed. I never imagined Brittany would betray me. She was family, chosen by me, the person I relied on and trusted above all else! I wanted to scream, to demand why, but not now. Not like this. Brittany let out a sickly sweet laugh. “Isn’t this exactly what you wanted to see?” she purred. “I betrayed her, I chose you. Can you love me now?” The atmosphere crackled with anticipation. Everyone waited, unspoken, for the drama to unfold. My marriage to Jake was a sham, a hollow shell. He flaunted his affairs openly, women cycling in and out of his life like a revolving door. But this time, the woman at his side was my most trusted friend. I ignored Brittany, my gaze fixed on Jake. My face was blank, my voice flat. “The media are swarming the dock, waiting for your yacht to pull in.” “Jake, come with me.” He tilted his head, drawing out a lazy “Hmm…” then a definite “No.” Seeing his refusal, Brittany brazenly burrowed deeper into his embrace, flashing me a triumphant smirk. As the yacht neared the dock, an array of high-powered cameras were already zeroed in, shutters clicking furiously. Flashbulbs erupted like a relentless storm. I curled my fingers, my palm stinging. They got the shot. The Harrison family wouldn’t let this go easily; I knew that much. Suddenly, Jake’s teasing voice reached my ear. “Like it, Mrs. Harrison?” he drawled. “Those old fogies probably won’t let you off the hook easily, will they?” “How about you divorce me? I could help you out.” I bit my lip, forcing the words past a choked throat. “Jake, do you… do you really want a divorce?” In ten years, this was the first time I’d even hinted at it. Jake’s playful smirk instantly vanished, his deep eyes suddenly filled with a complex, unreadable emotion. Before he could react, I stated plainly, “Then let’s get one.” It felt like a sentence I’d been waiting a decade to say. The moment the words left my lips, I felt an incredible lightness. What wasn’t mine, was never truly mine to begin with. The heavy emotions I’d suppressed for so long finally found an outlet, beginning to dissipate, thread by thread. “Chloe, are you serious?” Brittany’s voice was an uncontrollable burst of delight. However, the hand Jake had around her waist tightened, a painful squeeze. Brittany winced, a sharp gasp escaping her. “Ow!” she pouted, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. “Jake, you’re hurting me.” Jake ignored her completely, his gaze fixed solely on me. In an unprecedented move, he released Brittany, walking directly to my side. “Let’s go. Home.” He added, his voice smooth and possessive, “Mrs. Harrison.” I clearly saw the cruel amusement dancing in his eyes. He was doing this on purpose. He knew how much Brittany meant to me. And he knew that if paparazzi captured these photos, if a scandal erupted, I’d be the one punished. Jake had gone to great lengths to make me say the word “divorce.” 2 I put on a blank face and casually linked my arm through his. “Let’s go.” Jake immediately let out a harsh, sarcastic laugh. I was used to it, I just tuned him out. As Mrs. Harrison, I had to be perfectly composed in public. Soon, I wouldn’t have to endure days like this anymore. The moment we stepped ashore, I released his hand. He quickly clasped mine, fingers intertwining, his tone mocking. “Better act the part, Mrs. Harrison. Don’t go half-hearted.” “The paparazzi are still snapping away.” I frowned slightly, turning my head to look out the window. Whatever. Let him. The ride home was silent, a heavy quiet that lingered until we reached the front door. The instant we walked in, he pushed me against the wall. In the dim, hazy light, I caught a glimpse of the dangerous amusement in his eyes. I was utterly drained, my voice a soft murmur. “Jake, I don’t want to.” I tried to push him away. Jake’s grip tightened, and he bit my collarbone, a subtle punishment. He scoffed. “Mrs. Harrison, those old fogies are still waiting for you to get pregnant.” My body stiffened. Every time he said “Mrs. Harrison,” it was a cold reminder to remember my place, my identity. Once, I willingly wore these shackles, without the right to call for a stop, simply accepting my fate. Now, I could. My only reason for compromise had betrayed me. I no longer had anything holding me back. For the first time, I bravely pushed Jake Harrison away. “Jake, I don’t have to be Mrs. Harrison anymore.” He froze for a moment, his gaze holding mine, intensely. “Chloe Miller, are you serious?” My heart plummeted. “I’m willing to give you what you want. Isn’t that good?” “I’ve clung to you for ten years, and you’re tired. I’m tired too. Let’s just release each other.” Before the words fully faded, Jake’s hand gripped mine, a vice-like hold. His body pressed against mine, as if he wanted to meld me into the wall. After a tense standoff, he spoke, his voice thick with suppressed rage. “Chloe Miller, your tactics are transparent. I won’t let you get what you want!” With that, he turned, furious, and stormed out without a backward glance. I was bewildered. Staring at his retreating back, I fell into thought. This was what he’d always wanted, and I’d given it to him. Why was he angry? A sharp slam echoed through the house, pulling me back. No matter what, my decision was made. But the thought of Brittany still brought a dull ache to my chest. My phone vibrated again. I pulled it from my pocket, my finger tracing the screen, hovering over Brittany’s constantly popping up messages. Finally, I tapped open the chat. “Chloe Miller, you know everything now.” “Since that’s the case, give Jake to me.” “You two have been together for ten years, and he still doesn’t love you. Why don’t you let me try?” “Maybe he’ll fall in love with me?” “I know it’s wrong to steal my best friend’s man, but I really can’t control myself.” “The moment you introduced us, I was deeply drawn to him.” “I tried, I avoided seeing him, but you kept bringing him around. I didn’t mean to.” “You forced me!” … The more I read, the more my heart bled. This was the person I once trusted the most. I laughed, a bitter, self-deprecating sound. “Brittany Collins, I truly misjudged you.” “Since you want him, I’ll grant you your wish!” I typed these two sentences quickly and sent them. After that, our friendship was completely shattered. For a man, she betrayed me. It was me who misjudged her, in the end. That night, I couldn’t sleep a wink. When I woke, my eyes were red and swollen. It took a long time with ice packs to make them look remotely normal. 3 My mind drifted for a few minutes. Then I remembered the tough battle ahead today and quickly grabbed my phone. I opened the trending news feed and, sure enough, saw last night’s story plastered at the top. The photo showed Brittany sitting on Jake’s lap, with me standing opposite them. The comments were a chaotic mix: “Mrs. Harrison is just too generous, practically serving up her best friend to the heir.” “The heir plays dirty! Hooking up with his wife’s best friend and making his wife stand guard, savage!!” “The heir is so hot! If I were Chloe, I’d line up all his conquests for him!” “Don’t you guys feel bad for Chloe? She’s being betrayed by two of the people closest to her at the same time. My heart aches for her.” “LOL, she deserves it! The heir never wanted to marry her. If she hadn’t used that debt to threaten Grandpa Harrison, how would he have ever married her?!” “Exactly! And she keeps clinging to him, no self-respect! This is happening, and she still won’t divorce him, so pathetic!” “Wait, seriously? The heir is clearly a jerk, and you’re all roasting Chloe? Why aren’t you yelling at the heir and that disgusting best friend? What kind of people are you?!” “Let me be fair. It’s a classic case of ‘one party willing to suffer, the other willing to inflict pain.’ We, the online peanut gallery, don’t know the full story, so let’s just enjoy the drama.” The gossip forums were a mess of arguments. In the blink of an eye, the trending topic vanished. The Harrison family’s PR team had stepped in. A sound came from the entryway. Jake was back. He gave me a curt glance. “Be at the family estate in thirty minutes.” I nodded. What was coming would come. It was a Harrison family tradition that everyone had to return to the family estate every weekend. Any deviation would face family consequences. Even the notoriously free-spirited Jake had never broken this rule. “Chloe Miller, good luck with that!” He smirked faintly, his tone brimming with schadenfreude. At the entrance to the Harrison family estate. Jake didn’t even bother with pretenses. He strode ahead, leaving me to walk into the main hall alone. When I entered, he was already charming Grandma Harrison, making her chuckle with delight. “Grandma,” I greeted, performing the proper etiquette. “Mm,” Grandma Harrison responded, neither warm nor cold. “Your parents are waiting for you in the study.” I nodded slightly. “Understood.” I knew exactly what was coming. Meanwhile, Jake, the instigator, wore a slight smirk, not even bothering to lift an eyelid. The moment I stepped into the study, Mrs. Harrison’s hand cracked across my face. My head snapped to the side, my mouth filling with the faint taste of blood. She blew lightly on her hand, then returned to her poised, elegant demeanor. Mrs. Harrison looked at me coldly, every word laced with disdain: “Chloe, you’ve disappointed me greatly.” “A woman who can’t even hold onto her husband’s heart, how can you be Mrs. Harrison?!” “If I had known, I never would have agreed to Grandpa making Jake marry you!” “What a mess!” I kept my head bowed, my hands unconsciously clenching. “Chloe, if you still can’t make Jake love you, then you two should get a divorce as soon as possible!” I snapped my head up, my eyes filled with an undeniable resolve. “Fine. I’ll divorce him!” Mrs. Harrison’s eyes widened in disbelief. Mr. Harrison also frowned slightly, asking uncertainly, “Are you serious?” “Absolutely!” My voice was firm. Mr. Harrison waved a hand, signaling me to leave. I stood outside the study door, faintly hearing the conversation inside. “You, what are you doing blaming her for your son’s foolishness?!” Mr. Harrison sighed. “Who else should I blame?!” “Before Jake married her, he never did anything so outrageous!” Mrs. Harrison couldn’t help but complain: “If you two hadn’t forced Jake to marry a woman he didn’t love, would he have turned out this way?” “You don’t know how much pain he’s in!” Mr. Harrison looked at her, helpless. “Don’t you know what kind of person your son is?” “If he really didn’t like it, who could force him?!” “Now Chloe wants a divorce, just watch, it’s going to be a huge mess…” Mrs. Harrison froze. “That’s impossible, right? If Jake really loved Chloe, how could he act like that…?” “He can keep playing his games, until he finally pushes his wife away…” 4 Yes, how could Jake Harrison ever love me? I turned and left. Walking down the long corridor, I saw Jake waiting for me at the end. He stood with his arms crossed, a half-smoked cigarette between his fingers. I silently tried to walk past him. But he grabbed my wrist, his hand gently touching the side of my face that had been slapped. He scoffed lightly: “Tsk~ That’s it?” “Was the punishment a little too light?” His deep voice was laced with a lazy laugh, giving no hint of his true emotions. My eyes were clear, unruffled. “Yeah, I told Mom and Dad about the divorce.” He paused, taking a sharp drag from his cigarette. “What did they say?” I shook my head. “They didn’t say anything.” Grandpa Harrison was still in charge; Mr. and Mrs. Harrison couldn’t make the final decision. And if I wanted a divorce, I’d have to wait for Grandpa Harrison to return. “Right, what right do they have to say no!” His voice was faint, but a harsh edge seeped in. “Damn it, you brought this on yourself, you deserve it.” Jake left abruptly. Leaving me to suffer, once again, the Harrison family’s veiled insults, disguised as lessons in marital duties. I accepted it all, without a trace of humility or defiance. I waited. After leaving the Harrison estate, I had the driver take me to the nursing home as usual. Halfway there, I received a call from the nursing home: “Mrs. Harrison, it’s not good.” “Mrs. Collins’s condition has worsened. Please come as soon as possible.” My heart plummeted. I frantically pulled out my phone and called Brittany. I kept calling all the way to the nursing home, but no one picked up. Finally, at the door of the hospital room, the call connected. “Brittany, get to the nursing home right now! Mrs. Collins is in trouble!” Brittany sneered: “Chloe Miller, you were so generous letting Jake fill his life with other women, so why is it a problem when it’s me? And now you’re cursing my mom?” “Don’t I know how my mom is feeling?!” “Even if something was really wrong, she has you, after all, she always treated you better than me!” “I don’t even know who her real daughter is, for her to make you marry Jake Harrison!” Before I could reply, she hung up. I tightly clutched my phone. Pushing open the door, I saw the emaciated woman in the bed. My eyes instantly blurred with tears. “What happened?” Mrs. Collins had been much better when I visited her two days ago. The nurse dared not look at me. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Harrison, I couldn’t stop her, Mrs. Collins saw the online news…” I froze. “Chloe,” she whispered, struggling to speak. I rushed to the bedside, grasping her hand. “Mrs. Collins.” She patted my hand reassuringly, her cloudy eyes welling up with tears. “Chloe, Mrs. Collins apologizes for Brittany. It’s all my fault… I didn’t raise her well…” “If it weren’t for her heart attack back then, you… wouldn’t have resolutely married Jake Harrison…” “It’s all Mrs. Collins who ruined you…” The more she spoke, the heavier her breathing became. I wiped her tears, my voice soft. “Mrs. Collins, everything I did was my own choice. It has nothing to do with you; don’t blame yourself.” “And when I was little, if you hadn’t taken me in, I probably would have died already.” Her tears flowed even more. “It was our Miller family who dragged you down… Now Brittany treats you like this… I… I’m so sorry, Chloe!” “You… don’t worry, I told Grandpa Harrison to let you divorce Jake Harrison. After this… Chloe must be happy… you won’t have to suffer so much anymore…” Tears blurred my vision, but I managed a faint smile. “It’s not hard at all. Being Mrs. Harrison in the Harrison family is very comfortable. Famous, rich, what’s not to like?” She looked at me for a long time, then turned her head away with a pained expression. After a long moment, Mrs. Collins cautiously asked, “Chloe, can you ask that ungrateful daughter to come see me?” I nodded repeatedly. “Okay.” But the call I made went unanswered again. I tried Jake, but his phone also got no reply. Finally, I called Jake Harrison’s assistant. The assistant told me Brittany and Jake had gone to the Arctic to see the Northern Lights together. Tears I couldn’t hold back streamed down my face. Mrs. Collins saw my tears, as if she understood everything. She chuckled softly. “Forget it, Chloe. Don’t torment yourself anymore. You don’t owe our Miller family anything…” With that, she closed her eyes, a look of peace on her face. I cried hysterically. After Mrs. Collins’s funeral, the two of them were brought back by Grandpa Harrison. At the Harrison family estate. I stood to the side. Jake was kneeling on the ground. Brittany had been sent to Mrs. Collins’s grave site. Grandpa Harrison’s cane struck Jake’s back again and again. In the past, whenever Grandpa hit him, I’d step in front of him, my heart aching. Each time, I’d take a blow or two myself. Now, I stood unmoving to the side. Grandpa Harrison saw my unyielding resolve, knowing my heart had truly been broken. He beat Jake almost to death, then said in a deep voice, “Tomorrow, you two will get a divorce.” Jake, sprawled on the ground, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. Then, he gritted his teeth. “I don’t agree! Why should she get to marry when she wants and divorce when she wants?!” Grandpa Harrison struck his back again. “You don’t have a choice! You’ve completely broken Chloe’s heart; do you really think she’ll ever come back?!” I bowed to Grandpa Harrison. “Thank you, Grandpa.” He sighed. “Jake wronged you. You may go.” Dragging the luggage I’d already packed, I left the Harrison family estate.

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Ethan Carter never showed up that night we were supposed to pick out my wedding dress. When I arrived at his office, the place was buzzing. “Congrats, Ethan! You won the case, and you won the girl!” “Yeah, after all these twists and turns, Chloe, your childhood sweetheart, is finally back by your side.” “Ethan, does this mean your wedding with Jenna Miller is indefinitely postponed?” Ethan, surrounded by his colleagues, kept his eyes downcast, his voice chillingly cold. “Don’t compare Jenna to Chloe. Chloe would die if I left her, but Jenna wouldn’t.” I stood outside the door, clutching the bottle of wine I’d made just for him, before dropping it into a nearby trash can. Ethan Carter, I have no use for a love that leaves me half-dead. As I walked out of the law firm, my phone vibrated with his call. His voice was low, laced with apology. “Moon, the firm’s celebrating tonight. Can we postpone picking out the wedding dress?” I watched Chloe Davies walk into the firm and simply smiled. “Sure. No need to pick one.” The man on the other end chuckled, sounding perfectly pleased. “Moon, you’re so understanding. Pick whatever style you like, anything you love, I’ll love too.” I’d heard that line countless times. I used to believe it was trust, a boundless sense of security. Now, it felt like an endless mockery. Perhaps indifference was the only true freedom. I raised an eyebrow slightly. “Okay, I’ll arrange everything.” After hanging up, I canceled the wedding dress appointment. A weight lifted from my chest, yet I felt no trace of reluctance. I had never doubted my feelings for Ethan Carter. I truly believed we were deeply in love. Ethan and I met through winemaking. In the cellar, his perfect profile seemed to sweeten the very air. From that day on, my wine gained a new flavor—one called ‘love.’ I started chasing him with my wines. “Ethan Carter, I just made this. Want to try it?” “Ethan Carter, doesn’t this smell amazing?” “Ethan Carter, do you like this flavor?” Every day, I flitted around him like a chirping little bird. Slowly, we started talking, drinking together. He tirelessly served as my winemaking guinea pig. And I, with equal devotion, became his escape from loneliness. Until that deafening, drunken declaration: “Ethan Carter, I like you.” That ended our thirty days of unspoken. My love was always proactive, but Ethan was like a puppet. He mechanically agreed to all my requests, even when it came to affection. Yet, I happily believed this was unconditional favoritism. It wasn’t until I saw Chloe Davies that I finally understood. Ethan Carter’s time with me seemed to have been spent chasing her shadow. I was merely a fleeting distraction. Just as I was about to drive away, my phone buzzed incessantly with unfamiliar messages. “Hey Moon, Ethan’s really busy right now. Could you send two bottles of wine over?” “Ethan specifically asked for the Memory’s Embrace one.” “He always tells me your wine is so much like me. Thank you for always making him remember me.” Memory’s Embrace. That was the wine Ethan and I had crafted together. I provided the skill, he provided the tasting. It took twenty tries before I finally earned his smile. After that, Ethan named it Memory’s Embrace. What was thought of, never forgotten. I thought he was describing our love, so I treasured the wine. But I never imagined his childhood sweetheart had already surpassed everything. My hands trembled, too weak to reply. In that moment, I felt like a general defeated on the battlefield. Unable to return to the past, unable to move forward. But a voice deep inside me resonated with unwavering conviction. This one-sided love affair needs to end. It’s time to wake up. Back in the cellar, I pulled out four bottles of Memory’s Embrace. The production of Memory’s Embrace was very low. Not because I didn’t want to mass-produce it, but because Ethan wouldn’t allow it. He said it was our exclusive wine, meant only for us, something he didn’t want to share with anyone else. So, Memory’s Embrace was only brought out on our anniversaries. We’d toast under the moonlight, our hearts full. We’d celebrate our love for each other. We’d promise ‘forever and always.’ His tears would trail down his cheek and onto my shoulder, over and over again. At the time, I joyfully believed he loved me to his core. Now, I understood he was just longing for another woman. Inside the private room, Ethan Carter was expertly deflecting drinks for Chloe Davies. He hadn’t even noticed me standing at the door. His cheeks were flushed, a constant smile gracing his lips. This was the first time in three years I’d seen him like this. In that moment, Ethan Carter was joyous, fulfilled. There was none of the carefulness he always showed when he was with me. They complemented each other perfectly, completely oblivious to the teasing of their friends. “Well, well, well, let’s congratulate Ethan on finally getting his true love!” “Yeah, he’s finally not moping around like a lovesick puppy anymore!” “Chloe, you wouldn’t believe it, when you got married, Ethan disappeared for a whole month. We were worried sick!” “Exactly! Good thing he met Jenna Miller back then, otherwise who knows what state he’d be in now.” My name, like a needle, instantly chilled the atmosphere around them. I looked at the silent crowd, my heart yearning for Ethan’s affirmation. I stared at him intently, as if by doing so, he would acknowledge our relationship. But persistence doesn’t always yield answers. After a long moment, Ethan tightened his grip on Chloe’s hand, then slowly, unhurriedly spoke. “Chloe is my true remedy.” Suddenly, the whole room erupted in cheers. Chloe Davies had noticed me at the door long ago. Her arrogant gaze already proclaimed her victory. Knowing I wasn’t welcome in such a boisterous scene, I signaled for a server to deliver the wine. “Mr. Carter, this is the wine you requested.” The man, who had been smiling moments before, looked flustered for an instant when he saw me at the doorway. Just as Ethan was about to step towards me, Chloe unabashedly kissed him. Meeting his gaze, I chose to turn away. In that moment, I fled the battlefield. I was a coward in love. I didn’t have the courage to reclaim what was mine in front of everyone. In the taxi, Chloe Davies’s messages kept pinging. In the video. Ethan Carter, urged on by the crowd, grandly confessed his love to Chloe. He knelt before her, holding a bottle of Memory’s Embrace. “Chloe, this is the wine I made for you. Do you like it?” “Chloe, this wine is my essence, and so are you.” Ethan spoke with conviction, and Chloe’s face flushed. Then, a message from Chloe popped up: “Jenna Miller, thank you for the wine you made for me. Ethan Carter was never yours. I hope you know your place.” After three years, the lioness had reclaimed her territory. And for the other contender, it was either death or exile. Because none of this ever truly belonged to me. When I got home, memories invaded me like poison. Our matching slippers were neatly arranged, but Ethan’s pair looked brand new. Our couple’s mugs were brightly colored, but Ethan’s was already dusty. Our matching pajamas swayed in the breeze, but Ethan’s had never been worn. Ethan and my life was hollow, like two lines that intersected only to immediately run parallel again. We looked united, but our souls had long drifted apart. He never liked anything I prepared for him, yet for Chloe, he tacitly allowed it. Ethan Carter had never betrayed Chloe Davies; I was just an accidental detour. A phone call pulled me back to reality. The wedding photographer politely inquired. “Ms. Miller, I heard you canceled the wedding dress fitting. What about tomorrow’s photo shoot?” I looked at the repeating images on my phone, my voice devoid of any lingering emotion. “Cancel everything.” I was about to throw away all our paired items when Ethan’s key in the lock made me freeze. Ethan’s tense shoulders relaxed when he saw me. He took my hand, his smile incredibly gentle. “Thank you, Moon, for being so understanding.” “I really liked the wine tonight, and Chloe did too.” Seeing my silence, he patiently explained. “Chloe Davies, you know, we grew up together. We’re like siblings. You’re not jealous, are you?” “My Moon is so sweet, she would never be jealous.” No sooner had he spoken than he leaned down and kissed my forehead. Ethan was always different when he was drunk. He was like a loyal dog. “Ethan Carter, say you love me.” “Moon, I love you.” “Ethan Carter, say you miss me.” “Moon, I miss you.” “Ethan Carter, call me your wife.” “Moon, wife.” All the words he couldn’t utter when sober, he spoke without hesitation when drunk. I used to secretly delight in this for a long time. His tenderness, his thoughtfulness, his deep affection – I only truly had them under the influence of alcohol. Each time, I used repetitive questions to test my importance in his heart. Thankfully, I always got the answers I wanted. I filled my anxieties with this illusionary love. But now, I was tired of it. The dream needed to end. I clenched my hands, my voice firm as I spoke. “Ethan Carter, do you love Chloe Davies?” Without a moment’s hesitation, Ethan blurted out. “Yes, Chloe, I love you.” I staggered backward, step by step. This was the secret he had hidden for three years. “Ethan Carter, do you want to marry Chloe Davies?” At this, the man’s eyes reddened, his lips trembling with an unspoken grievance. He stepped forward, pulled me into a tight embrace, and buried his face in my shoulder, pleading. “Yes… more than anything. I’ve dreamed of it.” “Chloe, will you marry me?” Fueled by alcohol, Ethan had mistaken me for Chloe Davies. The high-and-mighty Attorney Carter, now begging so humbly. His indifference felt like a thousand knives, each one piercing my heart. I trembled with pain, with crushing disappointment. Yes, from the very beginning, had he ever truly loved me? I was just a shadow, and now his light had returned. The shadow should fade away. I didn’t humiliate myself further or respond. In the vast room, only the ticking of the clock could be heard. I stood rooted to the spot, letting him lean heavily on me, letting his warmth spread over me. I had always craved his warmth. On cold winter nights, I would instinctively lean into him. In biting winds, I would tightly hold his hands and refuse to let go. But now, with a gentle breeze, a chill ran through me. I stood motionless until my feet grew numb, until his strength completely gave out. I forcefully pushed Ethan away, and he collapsed onto the sofa, falling into a deep sleep. That night, for the first time, we slept in separate beds. His snores echoed, while my tears flowed silently. The next morning, Ethan Carter’s phone woke me up. “Attorney Carter, you and Chloe really moved fast! The wedding planner has been waiting forever, and Chloe’s here too. Hurry up!” “Attorney Carter, what about your wedding with Ms. Miller? Should I notify them to cancel?” The wedding planner was someone Ethan had contacted himself previously. He had said that I was too busy planning the wedding alone and that he wanted to share the burden. At the time, I had smiled so happily, completely unaware that he was personally preparing this for Chloe Davies. Ethan’s voice was barely a whisper. “Keep it down, don’t let Moon hear.” He quickly got up and rushed into the bedroom, our eyes meeting. All traces of awkwardness had vanished from Ethan’s face. He walked towards me with a slight, low chuckle. “Moon, I’m so sorry I couldn’t go wedding dress shopping with you yesterday.” “Did you pick one out? Do you have pictures? My Moon looks beautiful in anything.” He spoke, a polite pretense of concern, as he went through his morning routine. In reality, his mind was crystal clear. His concern for me was just a routine courtesy. His response to my choices was just polite acknowledgment. I watched him move around the room, huge dark circles under my eyes, until he was ready to leave, then I called out to him. “Ethan Carter, are you really willing to marry me?” A week ago, Ethan had proposed to me out of nowhere. There were no flowers, no diamond ring. “Moon, will you marry me?” I hadn’t doubted him; I simply saw it as an unexpected joy in my life. My eyes filled with tears, and I nodded silently, again and again. “Moon, are you really willing to marry me?” Ethan had asked for reassurance multiple times, and I had answered firmly, “Yes.” But I had never asked him if he was willing to marry me. I wanted an answer that would utterly crush my hope, once and for all. Ethan’s hurried steps hung suspended in the air. Three seconds later, he offered comfort in an incredibly gentle tone. “What’s wrong? Are you unhappy about planning the wedding?” “It’s okay if you can’t get the wedding wine right away, don’t put too much pressure on yourself.” “Good girl, the firm has something urgent. We can talk about it tonight, okay?” I still pressed on, unwilling to give up. “But we arranged to take our wedding photos today.” Ethan never liked my stubbornness. What he said wouldn’t change, and I couldn’t change it. A ripple crossed the man’s calm face, and his voice began to show impatience. “Didn’t I tell you the firm has something urgent? Jenna Miller, what is wrong with you today?” “If you don’t want to go, just go take them yourself. Leave a blank space and I’ll just be Photoshopped in later.” “And, forget about the invitations for now. The firm just landed a big case, so let’s just go get our marriage license first.” No sooner had he spoken than the man left without looking back. Overnight, Ethan Carter was like a stranger had taken over his body. He felt like a dream I’d had. I no longer recognized the man I had loved for three years. Through the window, I saw his frantic silhouette for the first time. So this was the pace someone takes when rushing to meet the person they truly desire. In that moment, I knew for certain that Ethan Carter no longer loved me. In the days that followed, he was always out early and back late. It was through Chloe Davies’s social media that I learned. In three days, they had completed three years of my plans. Day one: they picked out wedding dresses together. Day two: they took their photos together. Day three: they finished writing the invitations together. And I completely gave up on everything to do with Ethan Carter. Day one: I rented out the vineyard. Day two: I sold all my wine. Day three: I packed my bags, alone. Day four: It was the day of Ethan Carter and Chloe Davies’s wedding. And it was the day for me to wisely leave. At four in the morning, Ethan rushed out, citing a court appearance. My sleepy eyes caught him. “Ethan Carter, this is a new wine I made. I wish you all the best.” Since I was leaving, a dignified farewell was the best outcome. We met over wine, so let it end with wine. Ethan paused, then smiled and agreed. “Okay, when this busy period is over, we’ll drink it together.” I lowered my head, looking at my curled toes. “Take it with you. If you win the case, consider it a victory toast.” Ethan looked at my unusual behavior with a puzzled expression. He knew I always trusted him unconditionally. So, he knew I wouldn’t find out he was getting married today. At that moment, he naturally couldn’t be bothered with me. His bride was eagerly awaiting him; how could he bear to make her wait? He gently patted my head and disappeared into the night. At the wedding venue, Chloe Davies immediately spotted my wine. “Ethan, can I use this bottle for our toast?” “You know I’m not a big drinker, but Jenna’s wine is always so sweet, perfect for today, don’t you think?” Ethan couldn’t bear to refuse, so he immediately poured the wine. But the moment he tasted it, he froze. The wine glass slipped from his hand and shattered. He tore off the celebratory boutonniere and started to leave. Just as I was about to board the plane, my phone suddenly rang. Caller ID – Ethan Carter.

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