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."

Jason struggled to free himself from Heather's tight grip, but she clung to him with all her strength, her arms and legs wrapped around him like a vine.

"Jason, I know you and your brother have different mothers," she whispered seductively. "He acts like a good brother on the surface, but behind your back, he's always plotting against you, keeping you at arm's length."

Her voice softened, full of temptation. "If I get pregnant with your child and marry him, everything in the Vanders will belong to us. No matter how hard he schemes, in the end, he'll be working for you. Doesn't that sound satisfying?"

Jason's gaze lowered to her, his expression cold and unreadable.

Heather leaned closer, her breath tickling his ear. "Are you really not interested in your brother's money? Or his woman?" Her lips brushed against his nose, trailing down to his Adam's apple.

She sank to her knees on the carpet, lifting her tearful eyes to look up at him, her red lips parted slightly — as if she were a faerie, drawing him deeper into her web.

Just then, a group of people approached the door outside, led by a server. They were laughing and chatting, ready to enter the room. As the door handle turned, Jason's fingers tightened in her hair, yanking her back abruptly.

The noise outside seemed to fade, and the footsteps grew distant again.

Breathing heavily, Heather reclined on the sofa, her lips glistening with moisture as she watched him, silently inviting him with a sly smile.

But Jason remained emotionless as he methodically adjusted his disheveled clothes.

Heather sat up, her eyes gleaming with provocation as she hooked her arm around him. "Jason, come on. It's my ovulation period, the best time to conceive a boy. Don't you want to seize this chance?"

Jason straightened, his usual air of dignity returning as he looked down at her with disdain. "A woman like you doesn't deserve to carry my child."

Heather watched in disbelief as he headed for the door. Infuriated, she chased after him. "Jason, are you even a man?"

He glanced back at her, his gaze lingering on her bold, red lips. "Didn't you already find out if I'm a man just now?"

Heather's fury surged. "Is that it? Are you impotent or something?"

He didn't bother to respond, just walked away without looking back.

Fuming, Heather shouted after him, her anger spilling over. "You deserve to be a cuckold! Chrishell and your brother are making a fool of you, and you don't even dare lay a finger on me!"

But Jason paid no attention to her taunts, leaving her behind without a second glance.

Heather returned to the private room, her heart ablaze with frustration, only to find Jason absent while Brett and Chrishell were already back.

Chrishell sat at one side, her face glowing with affection as she sang a love song, her eyes filled with longing. Brett listened, utterly entranced.

Suddenly, Heather felt the atmosphere suffocating and dull. She rose abruptly, leaving the room in search of air.

After a short drive, she arrived at the Jenner family home, where a servant was trying to feed her mother dinner. However, her mother was being uncooperative, splattering soup all over herself.

The servant, irritated, raised a hand to strike her but quickly recoiled upon seeing Heather approach.

Heather stepped in, took the bowl of soup, and sat down next to her mother. She looked at her mother, whose figure seemed to sag, a shadow of her former self.

Six months ago, her mother had discovered that her father not only had a mistress but also a secret illegitimate son. In a fit of rage, she had jumped from the second floor, landing hard.

Her father felt no remorse; instead, he continued to flaunt his affair, bringing his mistress and their child out in public. Since then, her mother had become a shell of herself, existing as a vegetable with no hope left in her life.

Heather gazed at her mother's burnt-red lips and sighed. "Mom, you're being foolish. Why punish yourself for someone else's mistakes?" She scooped up a steaming spoonful of soup. "If anyone should suffer, it should be the one who erred!"

In a sudden outburst, she flipped the hot bowl of soup onto the servant. The woman screamed in pain but dared not retaliate, only stammering apologies, claiming she hadn't taken proper care of Heather's mother.

Heather returned to her chair, wiping the soup stains off her mother's clothes.

The servant's fear of her wasn't just because she was the eldest daughter of the Jenner family, but because she was on the brink of becoming Brett Vander's wife. If she lost that status, she and her mother would have nowhere left to stand.

Determined, Heather made a vow in her heart: she would do everything in her power to hold onto this marriage.