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.

As Heather pulled Brett into the private room, Chrishell and Jason were being cheered on to drink from the same cup.

Chrishell, with her delicate and seductive appearance, had an air of innocence on the surface, but Heather knew she was far more uninhibited at heart. The sounds she had made in that video could easily drive a man to the brink.

Seeing Brett arrive, Chrishell greeted him sweetly, "Brett, Heather, you're here."

Her soft and gentle voice greeting him seemed to send Brett into a daze.

Most of the people in the room were Jason's friends, who naturally knew that Brett was his older brother.

In recent years, the Vanders had risen rapidly, with Brett at the helm as the new generation's leader, his influence undeniable. The crowd around him was eager to ingratiate themselves, and even Chrishell couldn't hide the admiration in her eyes.

Heather, pretending nothing was amiss, casually sat down across from Jason.

She noticed a painting on the table — a portrait of Chrishell. The skill in the artwork was impressive, undoubtedly Jason's work. He had a notable talent for art and had already secured a position as an instructor at an art academy, with his works fetching high prices on the market.

It was almost laughable to Heather that Jason, aware of his girlfriend's infidelity, could still calmly celebrate her birthday like this.

Glancing past the coffee table and the other guests, Heather leaned forward and asked, "Professor, would you be willing to paint something for me as well? My birthday is coming up soon."

Jason's cold gaze locked on her, silently warning her not to stir up trouble in front of so many people.

When he ignored her, Heather turned her head dramatically and spoke up to Chrishell, "Chrishell, would you ask Jason to paint a portrait for me too? He listens to you the most, doesn't he?"

Chrishell, distracted as she flirted with Brett, absentmindedly replied, "Jason, go ahead and paint one for Heather."

Faced with Chrishell's request, Jason couldn't refuse. Sipping his drink, he didn't protest further.

Heather, undeterred, sent him a message on her phone: "Professor, I want a nude portrait."

Jason casually turned off his phone without even acknowledging it.

Heather extended her leg beneath the table, teasingly kicking his calf through the gap.

Another message followed: "Professor, your brother and your girlfriend just went to the bathroom together."

Jason glanced up briefly, noting the absence of both Brett and Chrishell, but remained unfazed, as if the message hadn't affected him at all.

Such self-control, Heather thought as she smirked. She nudged her foot higher, slipping it under his pant leg, tracing the tense muscles of his calf with her toes.

Finally, no longer able to bear the disruption, Jason stood up and left his seat.

Around them, the crowd was too engrossed in drinking and singing to notice anything amiss in the corner.

Heather watched as Jason walked out of the room, and she followed him closely.

He found an empty private room and sat down, the dim lighting casting shadows over his face. He lowered his head slightly as he lit a cigarette, his eyes narrowing as the smoke curled around him.

The collar of his shirt was unbuttoned just enough to hint at something more beneath his refined appearance. When he smoked, there was a dark, seductive quality about him that always drew her in.

In terms of looks, Heather had always felt that Jason far outshone Brett.

When he glanced up and saw her following him again, a flash of irritation crossed his face, and he made a move to leave.

Heather blocked his way, pulling out her phone. "Want to know what your brother and your girlfriend are up to?"

She opened an app on her phone. "I planted a bug on your brother that can transmit real-time audio. Listen."

From the phone's speaker came Chrishell's breathless voice, broken and pleading, "Brett... I can't take it anymore…"

Brett's heavy breathing followed, his voice rough and taunting. "Scream louder, let my dear little brother hear you too."

Heather listened, utterly entertained. "Do you really think she's pregnant? I wonder if they'd even manage to make a baby like this."

Jason remained silent, but Heather could guess what was on his mind. She knew it was all part of the manipulative games women like Chrishell played. Yet with Brett so thoroughly taken in, it wouldn't be surprising if there really was a child one day — perhaps even an illegitimate one.

The sound of Chrishell's shrill moans filled the room, and Jason suddenly snatched the phone out of Heather's hand, swiftly shutting off the app. Coldly, he tossed the phone back to her.

"Heather, what are you trying to accomplish?" His voice was low and icy, thick with contempt.

Heather rose onto her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Didn't I already tell you? I want you to help me get pregnant. Your genes are so similar to your brother's; he'll never know the difference. I'll use this child to claim my share of his fortune."

Jason pushed her away with disgust. "Minx."

Heather's laughter rippled through the room as she leaned in closer, her body pressing against his arm. "How did you know the perfume I'm wearing today is called 'Minx's Embrace'? Do you like it?"

The enticing scent enveloped them both, as if the very air around her was steeped in seduction — a baited hook waiting for its catch.

But Jason's expression remained unmoved. He turned on his heel, intending to leave. Just as he reached for the door, the sharp sound of glass shattering echoed behind him, followed by a woman's pained cry.

He turned to find Heather collapsed over the coffee table, motionless. Without thinking, he rushed over and pulled her up by the arm.

In an instant, Heather coiled around him like a vine, her arms tightening around his neck as she giggled and pressed her lips against his cheek. "Jason, you're so worried about me."