What was even more humiliating than discovering her fiancé’s affair was hearing him claim he’d lost interest in her, and that he had gotten another woman pregnant.

In the world of adults, it’s never about right or wrong—only about leverage.

Heather Jenner couldn’t afford to lose the status she was so close to achieving as a wealthy wife. Let him have his fun, she thought. If he could stray, why shouldn’t she find another man to father her child?

And so, she set her sights on his younger brother—the one who outshone him in every way.

Heather Jenner glanced at the ovulation test strip in her hand. The result was clear—a bold red line.

Today was the day. Her body was about to release a mature egg. It would be her best chance to conceive.

Without hesitation, she tossed the strip aside and stepped out of the bathroom.

In the expansive, minimalist living room, a man lay sprawled across the sofa, drunk. His white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, revealing the smooth, pale skin beneath. The gentle rise and fall of his throat with each breath was tantalizing.

Heather straddled his waist, her lips brushing against his Adam's apple as her fingers worked to undo his belt.

Just as her hand slid lower, the man suddenly grabbed her wrist.

Jason Vander's eyes snapped open. Without a shred of mercy, he shoved her off. "Don't be shameless, Heather. You just got engaged to my brother."

Her face, a perfect blend of innocence and desire, was marred by the tears hanging at the corners of her eyes, giving her a fragile, broken look. "Jason, your brother got another woman pregnant. He's going to dump me."

Jason regarded her coldly. "That has nothing to do with me. Get out of my house."

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she lunged toward him, clinging desperately. "Jason, we grew up together. Please, help me, just this once. If I get pregnant, your brother won't be able to break off the engagement and abandon me!"

She burrowed against his chest, forcing his hand to her body. "Since that car accident left me injured, your brother hasn't touched me in a long time..."

Her pleas, her tears, the way she pressed against him—it all made Jason's breathing quicken. But in the very next moment, he gripped her shoulders and threw her back onto the sofa.

"What makes you think I would want something my brother has already discarded?" His voice was icy. "Don't dirty my home. Get out."

Heather glanced down at his reaction. A moment ago, pressed against him, she had felt the unmistakable stir of his desire.

But Jason stood in the shadows now, his emotions unreadable. Before she could see more clearly, he turned and walked away.

He had resisted. Heather couldn't believe it. Disappointment flooded through her.

As she left, she defiantly removed her bra and stuffed it into the crack of his sofa.

After returning home, Heather took a shower and then lay down on the bed, holding a small mirror in her hand.

She spread her legs, gazing down at the reflection in the mirror.

It was clean, soft, and pink, with a small berry tattoo on one side that carried a mix of sensuality and innocence.

She touched it gently. Beneath the tattoo, the scar tissue was unmistakable.

Visually, the mark was hidden, but anyone who touched it would know she had been injured there.

Lost in thought, she barely noticed when the door suddenly swung open.

Brett Vander, back from an evening of socializing, hadn't drunk much. But when he saw where her hand rested, a surge of heat rushed through him.

He tossed his jacket aside and pushed his way onto the bed. "So desperate you're doing it yourself?" he teased.

Heather instinctively reached for the blanket to cover herself, but Brett's hand was already on the berry tattoo.

Her body went weak, and she let out a soft moan, her voice hoarse.

Just as she wrapped her arms around his neck, ready to surrender, she caught a whiff of something—a scent on his collar that wasn't hers.

To her, the scent was both foreign and familiar. She smelled it on him after he returned home more than once.

Whatever desire had been building inside her vanished in an instant. Revulsion took its place.

At the same moment, Brett's face suddenly changed. He stopped his advances and quickly got up, running to the bathroom.

Heather listened calmly to the sound of him retching.

This wasn't the first time. It wouldn't wound her pride anymore.

Half a year ago, Brett had taken her on a motorcycle ride. They had been in an accident on the road.

He had skillfully escaped unharmed, but the heavy bike had crushed her beneath it.

It had crushed her "down there."

At that time, she had screamed in agony as the pain hit her. Brett had yanked down her pants to check the injury.

There was a deep gash on one side where the bike had struck her, and blood was pouring out.

Brett had always been squeamish at the sight of blood. The moment he saw it, he had vomited.

Even after her wounds healed, the incident left a lasting scar on his mind.

Every time he touched her, Brett would remember that blood-soaked wound, and any spark of desire vanished instantly.

At first, Heather thought he had developed a general aversion to women. But then she realized—it was just her.

When strange women she didn't know sent her videos of themselves in bed with him, she finally understood. A different woman could still ignite his passion, making him burn hot and wild.

The Vanders were wealthy and powerful, so she had planned to turn a blind eye to it all.

But then one of those women sent a picture of a positive pregnancy test, and Heather could no longer sit idly by.

She had spent her best years on Brett, from school uniforms to wedding gowns, giving him the prime of her youth.

There was no way she would let go of the wealth and status that was almost within her grasp.

Grabbing her phone, Heather took a photo of the berry tattoo and sent it to Jason.

She had grown up with the Vander brothers, but because Brett had been named the heir, her relationship with Jason had always been distant and ambiguous.

But it didn't matter that Jason wasn't the family's chosen successor. As long as she got pregnant with a Vander child, that was all she needed.

The next day, Heather made a visit to Montax University.

Jason taught there.

Unlike his brother, Brett, who was bold and shrewd, Jason was reserved but brilliant.

On the podium, he wore a crisp white shirt, glasses perched on his nose, and he spoke with eloquence, lecturing about the history of Western oil paintings.

Heather sat in the last row, then pulled out her phone to send him a message.

"Professor, that nude painting you just talked about—don't you think her body isn't as good as mine?"

Jason glanced over the students, spotting Heather. Without a hint of reaction, he turned back to continue his lecture.

Heather rested her chin on her hand. Art wasn't something she understood, but watching Jason roll up his sleeves as he spoke passionately about his subject was undeniably attractive.

She sent another message, "Professor, did you see my tattoo? Care to give it an artist's critique?"

Though Jason's expression didn't change, his rhythm faltered. His movements as he flipped through his notes grew hurried.

Smiling, Heather typed again, "Professor, how about trying it in the classroom with me?"

At that moment, the book in Jason's hand slipped from his grasp and fell to the desk. Heather's grin widened mischievously.

After class, she found his car and climbed inside right after him.

Jason shot her a cold look. "Get out. Heather, if you keep acting this shameless, I'll send all your messages to my brother."

Heather appeared unfazed. She pulled out her phone and showed him a video.

As soon as the video started, the sound of frantic, breathless moans filled the car, and Jason instinctively turned his face away.

Heather laughed. "Professor, don't you think those two people look familiar?"

Jason finally looked back at the screen, where the video had paused on a clear shot of the man's face.

It was Brett.

The woman in the video had her back to the camera, but there was no mistaking the red birthmark on her waist.

Heather watched Jason in silence, noticing his dazed expression. Feeling generous, she leaned in and whispered, "The woman your brother got pregnant—it's your girlfriend, Chrishell."

Jason, however, wasn't as rattled as she'd expected. He pulled his gaze away, cold and unaffected. "I don't need you to tell me that. Get out of the car."

Heather moved closer, her lips brushing his ear. "Jason, let's get back at them, right here in the car."

Startled as if by an electric shock, Jason recoiled. "Heather, get out!"

She slid onto his lap, positioning herself deliberately. "Your brother stole your woman. Isn't it only fair you steal his?" she teased, her voice soft but wicked.

Jason remained unmoved, his hands firm on her shoulders, holding her at bay.

But Heather could feel the subtle shift in him. Smiling, she moved against him, her hips teasing with a slow rhythm. "You say no, but, Professor, what's this I feel?"

The vein in Jason's temple pulsed visibly. "Get off!" he growled.

He reached for the door, ready to throw her out with force, but before he could act, Heather cupped his face and pressed her lips hard against his, capturing the coolness of his thin, soft lips in a fierce kiss.

It was just like the video of Chrishell kissing Brett, full of passion and intensity.

What surprised Heather most was how good Jason tasted—clean, fresh, and warm, his lips both soft and heated. And to her satisfaction, he unconsciously responded, just a little, but enough to make her feel the spark.

Heat rose within her.

After being ignored and neglected by Brett for so long, Heather needed compensation. She needed the touch of another man to erase the cold indifference she'd endured.

Just as her mind spun with excitement, a loud horn blared from the car beside them, shattering the moment.

Before Heather could react, Jason quickly pulled her into his arms, pressing her against his chest.

From outside, a playful voice called out, "Jason, you've got some wild moves, don't you?"

It was Brett.

Pressed against Jason's chest, Heather could hear his calm, steady heartbeat as he replied, "Brett, what are you doing here?"

"Just handling some business," Brett said, leaning casually against the car door. He squinted, trying to peer through the narrow crack of the window, eager to see who Jason was embracing.

But Jason kept her tightly shielded, not even allowing a glimpse of the back of her head.

All Brett could make out was her shapely figure and a sliver of pale skin exposed at the waist, smooth and slender under her clothes.

Knowing Brett was just inches away, the thrill of revenge surged through Heather. Her hand slipped down, grazing Jason's waist.

She heard him take a sharp breath, just as her fingers found his zipper and pulled it down in one swift motion.

Heather's soft, warm hand sent a shiver down Jason's spine, causing his breathing to grow heavy.

Outside, Brett caught the subtle flush in his brother's face, noticing the telltale signs of desire. He couldn't help but tease, "Don't forget you're still on the university grounds, keep it in check."

Then, with a mocking grin, he added, "Didn't expect this from you, Jason. Always playing the gentleman, and here you are sneaking around behind your girlfriend's back in broad daylight."

But Jason remained calm as he held Heather in his arms. His expression steady, he countered, "Brett, what makes you so sure she isn't my girlfriend?"

Brett paused, caught off guard by the question. Before he could respond, Jason rolled the window up completely, shutting him out.

At that moment, the woman in Jason's lap tried to lift her head. Without missing a beat, Jason sharply smacked her on the hip, keeping her in place.

A muffled sound escaped her lips, and Brett suddenly felt a flicker of familiarity in that voice.

Brett leaned forward, a sense of recognition stirring. He wanted to walk around to the front of the car and see just who Jason was holding so protectively, but before he could move, Jason removed his jacket and draped it over the woman, then swiftly placed her into the passenger seat. In seconds, he drove off.

Once they were out of sight, Heather tossed the jacket aside, grinning as her eyes trailed downwards. "You're still hard, Professor. Shall we find a hotel?"

Jason slapped her hand away with a cold expression. "Get out at the next stop."

Heather's smile didn't falter. "Your girlfriend's about to become your sister-in-law. Don't you want to do something about it?"

He pulled over, his voice even colder. "Get out."

Leaning in, she whispered, "Jason, if you get me pregnant, your brother will have to marry me to fulfill the terms of our engagement."

Her voice turned coaxing, her eyes gleaming with malicious intent. "And your girlfriend's little scheme will amount to nothing. We can both get revenge. Isn't that the perfect outcome?"

Jason didn't even spare her a glance. "Get out."

In the end, he forced her out of the car. Heather, cursing him for being so dull, headed off to the mall to pass the time.

While browsing through clothes, her phone buzzed. It was Chrishell, inviting her to a birthday party.

She probably thought Heather's lack of response to her provocations meant she'd won, but now she was getting impatient.

Without hesitation, Heather typed a quick reply: "Sure."

After finishing her shopping, Heather returned home to find Brett already back.

He looked her up and down, his gaze cool but curious. "Where have you been?"

Heather had changed into a new outfit and styled her hair differently. She spun around in front of him with a playful smile. "Shopping, of course. There's a lot to buy now that we're getting married."

Brett noticed the difference in her appearance from the woman he had seen in Jason's car earlier. Whatever lingering suspicions he had were quickly dispelled.

Without much interest, he glanced away and settled onto the sofa. "You take care of it."

Heather headed upstairs to put her things away. When she came back down, she spotted Brett sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone, a relaxed smile tugging at his lips.

Quietly, she sneaked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Who are you chatting with?"

Startled, Brett nearly jumped out of his seat. Realizing his overreaction, he hurriedly pocketed his phone. "Nothing, just some work."

Heather pretended not to notice the bright red kiss emoji that had flashed on his screen a moment earlier. She smiled and asked, "Do you have time tonight? Come with me somewhere."

Brett immediately declined. "I have a video conference tonight."

Heather pouted slightly, then said, "It's Jason's girlfriend's birthday. I thought it'd be nice if you came with me to the party."

He paused, the mention of the party catching him off guard. His attitude softened quickly. "If you really want to go, I can accompany you."

Heather took his arm and said, "Are you sure it won't interfere with your work?"

"It's not that important," Brett replied, already making his way upstairs. "I should get changed. Can't be underdressed for an occasion like this."

Watching him eagerly head off to prepare, Heather reached for the new perfume she had just bought. She sprayed a little on her wrists and behind her ears, the sultry fragrance enveloping her.

As the scent lingered, she found herself replaying the intimate moment in the car with Jason earlier that day. A thrill ran through her, and she couldn't help but anticipate their next encounter.