Sabrina's POV

“All the expenses at home come from your hard work,” I said coldly. “So, now that you’ve been promoted to general manager, I’ll support you even better. Don’t worry.”

Seeing how “understanding” I was, Tyrone beamed with excitement.

I played along, letting my lips curve upward in a cooperative smile. Then, I picked up the outfit and headed to the master bedroom.

In the dimly lit room, I noticed the pink mood lighting Tyrone had bought ages ago but never used. I couldn’t help but feel the irony as I prepared myself for what was about to happen.

“Wow, Tyrone, I didn’t expect your wife to be so stunning,” Mr. Allen said, his sharp suit perfectly tailored as he stood in the doorway.

His greedy gaze swept over me, lingering on my legs wrapped in sheer black stockings. The longer he stared, the wider his smile grew.

“Oh, come on, boss, cut with the joke,” Tyrone laughed, quickly getting up to usher me to the seat right next to Mr. Allen. His gesture was deliberate, his intentions painfully clear.

“Sweetheart, go ahead and serve our most important benefactor,” Tyrone said with a pointed look.

I swallowed the wave of disgust rising inside me and picked up the serving chopsticks.

But as I reached forward to serve, Mr. Allen’s large, rough hand suddenly extended, brushing against me—no, grabbing me outright.

I froze, pulling away as quickly as I could, my entire body shivering with revulsion.

But then, the sound of crashing dishes filled the room as my hand slipped.

“Oh no! I’m sorry, Sabrina, I got a bit too excited,” Mr. Allen said with a fake laugh, waving off the incident like it was nothing. At the same time, he shot Tyrone a knowing look, raising his brows suggestively.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong with you? You know Mr. Allen’s personality by now—why are you overreacting like this?” Tyrone scolded, his tone dripping with annoyance.

Without giving me a chance to respond, he grabbed a bottle of wine and poured me a full glass.

“Here, drink this and apologize to Mr. Allen. You know it’s a big no-no to act like this in the workplace.”

Both men stared at me expectantly, their eyes practically daring me to refuse. The wine in my glass felt like a ticking time bomb—one that I was sure they’d tampered with.

Tyrone, if I’m right, you’ve drugged this wine, haven’t you?

With that, I lifted the glass, and the moment I did, Mr. Allen’s eyes lit up with anticipation. His carefully laid plan was unfolding exactly as he’d envisioned.

“Boss, I’m so sorry for earlier. Let me punish myself with a drink.”

As I said that, I downed the glass in one go, ignoring the heat building in my stomach. Tyrone clapped his hands in delight.

“Well? How does it taste, sweetheart? Isn’t it great?” he asked, his tone brimming with satisfaction.

I forced a flushed smile, feigning lightheadedness. “Yeah, not bad.”

Just then, Tyrone’s phone buzzed, and after answering, he approached me with a look of mock regret.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry, but there’s an urgent issue at work that needs my attention. You know how it is—being a general manager means cleaning up all the messes others leave behind.”

He leaned in closer, lowering his voice as if trying to reassure me. “Take good care of Mr. Allen while I’m gone, okay? I won’t be long.”

The excuse was pathetic, one I would’ve believed in the past. But now, I could see through every word.

The wine—laced with God knows what—was meant to incapacitate me, and once he left, Mr. Allen would have free reign.

Lowering my head, I let my voice sound weak and dazed. “Just me and Mr. Allen at home? Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

Tyrone froze for a moment, his nervousness flashing across his face before he quickly recovered.

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be? Mr. Allen is our family’s benefactor. You should understand how important he is to us.”

Then, with an almost brainwashing tone, he added, “If this were ancient times, we’d both offer ourselves to repay someone like him.”

Listening to his shameless logic, I pretended to sway on my feet, my head lolling as I murmured, “Alright… I’m feeling dizzy. I’ll just go lie down.”

With that, I let my knees buckle, collapsing to the floor as though I’d lost consciousness.

“Sweetheart? Sweetheart!” Tyrone called, shaking me lightly. When I didn’t respond, he stood up and hurried over to Mr. Allen.

“Boss, the drug’s working perfectly. Sabrina is all yours. I’ll head back to the office now.”

The two exchanged a smug, conspiratorial glance before Mr. Allen’s face broke into a grin so wide it was nauseating.

“Don’t worry, leave everything to me. I’ll take good care of her,” Mr. Allen said, his voice dripping with sinister delight. “She’s such a beautiful woman—I’ve been dying to get my hands on her.”

Sabrina's POV

As such, Tyrone grabbed his car keys and left the room without looking back.

“Sabrina, you must be tired. Let me help you to bed,” Mr. Allen offered, his voice low and calculated as the door clicked shut behind Tyrone.

A chill ran up my spine.

Mr. Allen loosened his tie and leaned closer.

“Oh, no need, boss. I’m fine. I don’t even know how I fell asleep earlier,” I said, feigning confusion, my eyes glassy as I staggered back a couple of steps, like a startled deer.

To Mr. Allen, my reaction looked more like an invitation than hesitation.

He swallowed hard, the sound loud in the quiet room, his eyes filled with greed as if he wanted to carry me to the master bedroom that very second.

“Boss, everything Tyrone has achieved is thanks to your guidance,” I said, forcing myself to stand and walk back to the dining table. Pouring a glass of wine, I handed it to him with both hands. “Let me toast to you, the man who made it all possible.”

Mr. Allen stared at the wine, hesitating for a moment. He knew exactly what was in it—the same thing that had made me “dizzy” earlier.

“I still have to drive later. How about I toast with tea instead?” he said, his tone casual but cautious.

I let out a soft laugh, pretending not to notice his wariness. “Of course. Let me get you some tea.”

Stumbling slightly, I poured him a cup and placed it in front of him. Mr. Allen drank it without hesitation, his eyes following my every move as I straightened up.

After finishing the tea, he shrugged off his suit jacket, making himself comfortable.

“Boss, Tyrone mentioned you wanted to take a shower. Feel free to use the bathroom,” I said, keeping my voice light. “As for me, I’m not great with alcohol, so I’ll head to bed now.”

Without waiting for a response, I hurried back to the bedroom, closing the door behind me. I lay on the bed, keeping perfectly still.

A few moments later, there was a light knock on the door, hesitant but expectant.

“Sabrina, are you asleep?” Mr. Allen’s voice was soft, testing the waters. “Didn’t Tyrone already talk to you about this?”

Silence filled the room.

He waited for a moment, his breathing growing heavier, then knocked again, this time louder and more insistent.

“Come on, beautiful. I’ve been in love with you for so long. Don’t worry—I’ll treat you well in the future,” he said, his words thick with desire.

When no response came, his patience snapped. He pushed the door open with a loud bang, laughing triumphantly.

“Finally, fast asleep, just like I hoped,” he muttered, stepping into the room. “Tyrone’s little potion works like a charm. All these years of helping him climb the ladder finally paid off.”

Standing over me, he didn’t rush. Instead, he lingered, eyes roaming over me like a predator savoring its prey.

“Sabrina, these gorgeous legs of yours—I’ve been dreaming about them for ages,” he murmured, his tone sickeningly affectionate. “Your husband’s quite the generous guy, you know. At first, I only had a passing desire for you. But that day, he came to me on his own. He offered you in exchange for a promotion.”

Mr. Allen’s eyes gleamed with lust and malice.

“And you? You must have agreed to this, didn’t you?” he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. “You’ll see just how strong a real man can be.”

Tears streamed silently down my face. I’d thought Tyrone had been coerced, that Mr. Allen had used his power to force him into this arrangement.

But no—this was all Tyrone’s idea. He had willingly handed me over for his own gain.

My heart shattered.

Mr. Allen, like a starved wolf, tore off his clothes in a frenzy, his bloodshot eyes locked on me as he moved closer.

“Let’s all congratulate Tyrone for becoming the new general manager of the sales department!”

In the conference room, Mr. Allen and the other senior executives were gathered for the announcement. Applause and polite congratulations filled the air, though whispers of discontent rippled through the crowd.

Tyrone stood at the front, confidently recounting his career journey. Some employees exchanged skeptical looks, but no one dared to speak up—after all, everyone knew how close he was to Mr. Allen.

As the murmurs continued, the door suddenly opened.

I walked in, a folder clutched in my hands.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing here?” Tyrone asked, his surprise evident as his eyes locked on me.

Ignoring him, I stepped forward and placed a stack of documents on the table for everyone to see.

“I came to give you a surprise,” I said, my voice calm but firm. “I’m pregnant.”