Trevor Farren cheated on me—with a hostess, no less.

He bought her a villa, handbags, necklaces, and even whisked her away to the Maldives. Everything I had, she had too.

In my fury, I resolved to retaliate. I found myself in the smoky halls of a nightclub, learning shameful, provocative moves from the women there. I would seduce him and make him fall for me all over again. I vowed to crush him in the end.

I'd ruin him. Strip him of everything he held dear until he tasted the bitterness of despair, the way I had.

Standing before the mirror, I traced my curves with a sly smile. "Trevor, do you like what you see?"

How did I find out? Oh, it wasn't hard.

Rummaging through his travel bag, I stumbled upon the evidence: a pack of half-used strawberry-flavored sheaths and, tucked between his shirts, a pair of lace panties.

He, my once-devoted husband, who claimed to love me above all else, was sneaking around with another woman. The moment the truth hit me, it felt like the sky caved in.

But I didn't let it show. I carried on as if nothing had happened.

I even went to see her.

She was every bit the temptress: seductive eyes that promised sin, a lithe figure that seemed to dance even when she stood still, and curves designed to ensnare men.

Wearing black silk stockings, she could sway to the beat in a bar and leave every man in the room spellbound. Those with even the slightest lapse in self-control might lose themselves completely.

So, this was what my cold, prim, and proper husband secretly craved?

I always knew women out there wanted him. He was handsome, fit, and a rising star in Oakhaven City's business scene. But I never thought one would actually succeed in luring him into her bed.

Oh, how I hated Trevor for his betrayal. For tossing aside more than a decade of love like it was nothing.

As for the hostess, Cassidy Sharp, she had the audacity to flaunt her triumph, boldly declaring that one day Trevor would leave me for her.

Really? Where did she get that confidence?

And Trevor? The man who shattered my heart, discarded our years together as if they were meaningless? I would make him regret it.

I knew I wasn't perfect. I'd heard the complaints—how I was stiff and lifeless in bed, like a dead fish.

So, I gritted my teeth and stepped into that nightclub to learn. To master the kind of shameless, tantalizing moves that would snare him.

He would fall for me again. I'd make sure of it. And when he did, I'd dump him and destroy him.

As for that hostess? She wouldn't escape unscathed either.

I smiled into the mirror as I admired my curves in the reflection. "Trevor, do you like what I've become? Everything I'm doing is tailor-made for you. Enjoy it while you can."

Today was his birthday.

No matter how busy he was with work, I made sure one phone call from me brought him home. After all, I'd promised him a surprise.

After dinner, Trevor headed to the bathroom for a shower.

The moment the water started running, I sprang into action, swapping my plain cotton underwear for the lacy slip dress I'd bought just for this occasion. I threw on a coat over it for good measure.

It was my first time trying to seduce him, and I felt so awkward that my hands trembled with excitement and nerves.

Trevor, tonight you're going to fall willingly into the trap I've set for you.

Before long, he emerged, wrapped only in a white towel, his hair still damp.

Trevor might look lean at first glance, but being alone with him reminded me just how impressive his physique was. Broad shoulders, a tapered waist, and a taut, muscular frame radiating effortless strength. His eight-pack abs rose and fell with each breath, a sight I knew intimately from countless nights when he had worked me into an almost delirious state.

But I had always kept my composure.

As the heiress of the Vane family, grace and poise were my second nature. My every action represented our family's reputation, especially after I became Mrs. Trevor. I wasn't like that hostess he'd been sneaking around with.

Yet the thought of her lying in our bed, wrapped in his arms, drove me to the edge of madness. Had she also been reduced to helpless gasps under his touch?

Swallowing my bitterness, I played the part of the dutiful wife, handing him a glass of water with a gentle smile. "You must be tired from a long day, darling. Have some water."

He drank it down in one gulp.

I curled my lips ever so slightly and reached for the hairdryer, gesturing for him to lie down. "Let me dry your hair for you, honey."

Once his hair was dry, I began massaging his temples, my fingers moving deftly across his scalp.

It was clear he enjoyed it.

But when my hands brushed against his earlobe, he suddenly caught my wrist. His eyes remained closed, but his low, husky voice betrayed him. "Mia, where did you learn this?"

By now, I'd slipped off my coat, leaving me clad in the sheer slip that hugged my curves. My pale, smooth skin gleamed under the soft light, every contour accentuated just enough to tantalize.

I straightened up, pretending to accidentally brush his face before quickly pulling back. "From a masseuse, honey," I whispered. "Did I use too much pressure? You're always so busy, and your headaches worry me. I just wanted to help you relax."

When he finally opened his eyes, they darkened as they took in my shy expression. "The pressure's perfect," he murmured. "Mia, is this the surprise you mentioned?"

Blushing furiously, I avoided his smoldering gaze. "I…I…"

Before I could stammer out a reply, he pinned me to the bed, his lips capturing mine as his hands roamed freely, setting fire to every inch of my skin through the delicate fabric.

My breathing grew shallow, and just as I thought we were about to take the next step, his phone rang.

It was Cassidy, the hostess.

His desire ebbed as he glanced at the screen, then silenced the call. "Sorry, Mia. I have something to take care of," he said.

Without hesitation, he left for his study, leaving me behind.

Again.

I clenched my fists but managed a calm, supportive tone. "Don't stay up too late, darling. I'll worry."

The door clicked shut behind him, and a cold smile crept across my lips.

Tonight had gone better than I'd expected. I had been alluring enough to hold his attention, unlike before when my conservative attire didn't even warrant a glance.

All those hours spent learning seductive techniques from the hostesses weren't wasted.

After all, I still had the figure that had once driven him wild with desire. His initial obsession with me had been insatiable, but my stiffness in bed had gradually cooled his interest, pushing him toward Cassidy's playful charms.

But now? I would rekindle his hunger, bit by bit, until I stole him back from her.

Seduction wasn't hard. Anyone could do it.

And to ensure my plan's success, I'd installed a hidden camera in his study, concealed within the plush bear figurine he'd bought for me.

The bear, so out of place among his neatly arranged desk items, had been a gift. He'd once told me he kept it there to remind him of me. "When I'm tired," he'd said, "looking at it makes me feel better."

I had been touched back then.

Now, that same bear had become my secret weapon to monitor his every move.

I switched on the hidden surveillance on my phone, and there it was—Trevor's face lit up with a teasing smile.

"Cassidy, it's only been a day, and look at you—already so eager," he said.

He was on a video call with Cassidy. Though I couldn't see her, her voice slithered through the speakers like a siren's song. "A woman's charm is in her boldness. Without that, how can a man fall for her?" Her tone carried a hook, pulling him closer even through the screen.

"Trevor, have you missed me?" she cooed, accompanied by the faint rustle of fabric.

Trevor straightened in his chair, his deep-set eyes darkening like stormy waters. Whatever Cassidy was up to on the other end of the line, it had his full attention.

He adjusted the volume to its maximum, and her sultry moans filled the room. "Trevor… Trevor…"

His expression remained composed, but his body betrayed him. I didn't need to see where his hand went next to know what was happening.

I turned off my phone, disgusted, and ordered some takeout. When it arrived, I quietly made my way to the study door. The unmistakable sound of their intimate conversation still drifted through.

I knocked lightly, relishing the sudden silence inside.

Ah, Trevor and Cassidy, how does it feel to have your little tryst interrupted?

I knocked again and called softly, "Honey, I was worried about you, so I made you some soup."

A faint cough came from inside, his voice steady and composed now. "Mia, bring it in."

I entered with the bowl in hand, and there he was, staring intently at data on his computer screen, his expression as serious as if he'd been at it all night.

Oh, how well he played the part.

I spooned some soup, blew on it, and brought it to his lips. "Honey, drink up."

Instead of drinking, he pulled me onto his lap, his lips brushing against my ear, warm and tantalizing. "Mia, you're so thoughtful," he murmured. "Marrying you was the best decision of my life."

His lips were soft yet searing, and my heart fluttered against my will. Feigning concern, I pressed my palm to his forehead. "Honey, you're so warm! Are you running a fever?"

Still in my lace slip, I shifted uneasily on his lap. My movement caused the delicate strap to slide off my shoulder. His gaze lingered on my exposed skin, making me blush as I hastily pulled it back up and escaped his embrace to fetch a thermometer.

As I bent over, rummaging through the cabinet, he pressed against me from behind, his heat nearly scorching me.

"H-honey, not here…" I stammered, trembling as his breath tickled my neck. "The soup will get cold…"

"Who cares about the soup?" he growled, tilting my chin up and claiming my lips with an intensity that left me breathless. "You're far sweeter."

His hands wandered boldly, his need urgent, but just as he was about to strip away the last barrier between us, his phone rang.

"Pick it up," I gasped, seizing the opportunity. "It might be important."

He ignored my words, his focus unwavering. The phone rang and rang, persistent and unrelenting, and he gradually got distracted. I couldn't suppress a sly smirk.

Oh, Cassidy, getting impatient, are we?

Too bad, I'd only just begun.

I clung to him weakly, my voice a honeyed whisper. "Honey, you can't miss a business call. What if it's something important?"

Pretending ignorance of the caller's identity, I nudged him with my reasoning. Reluctantly, he relented, muttering, "You're such a tease. Go lie down; I'll be there soon."

I nodded demurely, fixing my disheveled attire. Before leaving, I reminded him, "Don't forget to finish up the soup—it's good for your health."

He chuckled softly. "Alright."

Back in the bedroom, I reactivated the surveillance. As expected, Cassidy's video call popped up again, her voice tinged with a pout. "Trevor, why'd you hang up on me earlier? Were you with your wife?"

Trevor raised a brow, smirking faintly. "She is my wife, and this is my house. Isn't it normal for me to see her? What's this? Jealousy?"

Cassidy's scoff came through clearly. "Your wife seems so stiff and dull. Could she ever please you like I do, Trevor?"

The smile at the corner of Trevor's lips faded ever so slightly. "Cassidy, she's my wife," he said, his tone cold and resolute. "You've overstepped."

I watched his sharp, chiseled face as he said it, and the irony of it all wasn't lost on me.

Ah, how considerate of him to still acknowledge me as his wife. But then again, if I didn't hold even that small place in his heart, my plans wouldn't have a leg to stand on.

This fact, inconvenient as it may seem, was one I intended to use to my full advantage.

Hearing his stern words, Cassidy quickly shifted gears, her voice turning sugary with a touch of practiced coyness. "Oh, Trevor, you're so fierce it scared me!" she pouted. "Fine, let's just say I misspoke."

Then, with a flirtatious lilt, she added, "By the way, Trevor, I learned a new move. Want to try it with me?"

Trevor cast her a sideways glance, his lips curving slightly in musement. "Sure," he replied.

From the sounds that followed through the video feed, it was clear Cassidy had dialed up her performance, her cries becoming even more exaggerated and shameless than before. I didn't need to see her face to imagine the theatrics.

Trevor seemed to rise to the occasion, his focus shifting entirely.

Watching the discarded shirt he'd flung aside earlier, a quiet chuckle slipped from my lips. There's something almost poetic about the contrast, I mused. Cassidy might sell her charm, but what else does she have to offer? If she dares to play with fire, I'll make sure she gets burned.

When Trevor was done, he reached for a tissue and wiped his hands with mechanical precision.

Cassidy's voice came through again, teasing, "Trevor, you came awfully quick this time."

He merely nodded, his tone even. "Hmm. Busy day at the office. I'm tired."

Tired? Hardly. I knew full well what was on his mind. He wasn't weary from work; he was still savoring the lingering taste of me. It was fascinating how effortlessly he lied, how seamlessly he could craft his narratives.

After ending the video call, Trevor sat at his desk, staring off into the distance. What thoughts occupied his mind? I couldn't say. After a moment, he stood, his footsteps echoing softly as he left the study.

I switched off the video feed and settled onto the bed, feigning sleep as the door creaked open.

Trevor crossed the room, stopping by the bed. He called my name softly—twice—but I didn't stir. Finally, he slipped under the covers, his arm wrapping around me as though he couldn't bear the distance.

Ah, men. Predictable creatures.

As if on cue, I let out a small, sleepy sound, turning toward him. Seeking comfort in his arms, or so it seemed, I murmured, "Oh honey, you're here."

He pressed a kiss to my forehead, and then, out of nowhere, he asked, "Mia, if one day I were to make a mistake, would you forgive me?"

Without hesitation, I nodded. "Of course. I've already told you, no matter what you do, I'll always be on your side."

I said the words he wanted to hear, the ones that would settle his heart. For a fleeting moment, something softened in his eyes—a glimmer of guilt, perhaps.

He pulled me closer, his embrace tightening as if afraid I might slip away. "Mia," he whispered, his voice heavy, "sleep now."

"Goodnight, honey," I replied sweetly.

Trevor, perhaps out of guilt, had been spending all his time with me for days on end, leaving Cassidy out in the cold. Deprived of Trevor's attention, she must have been fretting that her handsome and capable money tree might finally cut her loose. Her patience ran thin, and desperation must have gotten the better of her.

It was at this time that Trevor took me to a charity auction gala. The event was hosted by one of his business partners, and the guest list was as exclusive as it was illustrious—every attendee was either fabulously wealthy or impeccably influential.

And yet, Cassidy showed up.

She arrived on the arm of a middle-aged man with plain features—someone I recognized as Mr. Lance Lonway, a manufacturing magnate with a wife and children waiting at home.

Seeing her clinging to him was enough to make it clear what kind of arrangement they had. Ah, such a pitiful creature, selling herself for the scraps of another's indulgence.

The hall bustled with elegant conversation and the rustle of evening wear, but Cassidy's anxious searching eyes gave her away. She was hunting for someone—and when her gaze landed on Trevor, it lit up like a match in the dark.

That was until she noticed me by his side. Her expression faltered, her eyes clouding with the silent accusation of a betrayed mistress.

This was our first face-to-face meeting, hers and mine.

Trevor, however, remained as composed and indifferent as ever, his demeanor impenetrable. If Cassidy hoped to rattle him, she failed spectacularly. The man at her side, Lance, seemed to have at least a modicum of sense, as he promptly led her over to exchange pleasantries with Trevor.

After the polite greetings, Cassidy couldn't resist. "Mr. Farren, is this your wife?" she asked, her voice light but forced.

Trevor nodded, his reply simple and unequivocal. "Yes."

Cassidy hadn't expected his wife to be someone like me—young, strikingly beautiful, a far cry from the dull, insipid woman he must have described in her presence. The realization hit her like a slap, and she gripped the stem of her wine glass so tightly I half-expected it to shatter.

I, draped in a champagne-colored velvet gown, the light catching the pure pink diamond at my neckline, smiled with the poised warmth of someone entirely at ease. Meanwhile, she stood there in an unremarkable black dress, her hair hanging loose over her shoulders. The contrast was stark, almost cruel.

Tell me, Cassidy, does this little tableau crush you enough? My presence alone was a blow you couldn't counter.

The auction began, and the room shifted into an air of quiet anticipation as everyone took their seats.

Cassidy and her Lance were seated directly across from us. Lance, clearly smitten by her syrupy charms, gleefully bid on a series of trinkets to please her. Each item he won added a smug flicker to her gaze, one she aimed squarely at me as though to say, Look at this. What's your husband done for you?

Trevor, for his part, hadn't placed a single bid. Not that it mattered. I caught the fleeting glance Cassidy sent my way, a spark of triumph in her eyes, before she turned to nestle herself smugly into Lance's chest.

I didn't react, merely smiling inwardly. In such a rush to declare your victory, are you? I thought, amused.