Surprisingly, Damian, sprawled on the floor, looked like he was enjoying himself. Instead of getting angry, he let out a wanton sound. "Elise, I like it when you treat me like this."

I was baffled. Had he suffered brain damage at some point in life? Did he like being abused?

Elise's expression turned stormy in an instant, and she looked like she'd swallowed something foul. She quickly stepped back and muttered, "You're disgusting."

"Elise." Damian pushed himself up, a shoe print stark across his face. However, he looked oddly thrilled as he continued, "If you like it, you can step on me anywhere you want."

What a psycho!

I cursed him in my mind. I'd seen my fair share of nutcases, but it was my first time seeing someone at this level of crazy.

"Damian." Suddenly, a soft female voice cut through the scene.

I looked up to see a woman in high heels and a black, glittery evening gown jogging toward Damian. Her voluptuous chest bounced with every step.

I couldn't help doing a double-take. When I turned back, I saw Elise glaring at me. She coldly asked, "Enjoying the view?"

I chuckled. "It's pretty average. You're the best-looking in my eyes."

I couldn't praise another woman's looks in front of my wife, especially since she was also my sugar mommy. I knew that much, at least.

"Marissa, what are you doing here?" Damian's expression flipped the moment he saw the newcomer. His eyes glinted with a hint of grievance.

So, this was Marissa Levine, his fiancee. Rumor had it she'd fallen for Damian at first sight, and that she was the one who'd pushed for the match between their families.

"Who bullied you?" Marissa carefully wiped the shoe print off Damian's face, her eyes brimming with heartache and tenderness.

He didn't answer, but his gaze drifted to me. She followed his line of sight, and her gaze sharpened. She looked like she was two seconds from pulling a knife on me.

"Please stay away from Damian in the future." She even singled out Elise and coldly said, "Especially you. I can't believe you're out here flirting with other men when you're already married. Trashy, isn't it?"

I was dumbfounded. It looked like Marissa had some kind of mental issue, too.

I was about to speak when Elise pulled me away. This was so unlike her that I knew what this meant—she felt diffident.

Well, it was not like I would dare call her out to her face. She needed her dignity intact.

By the time the banquet ended, I was more than a little drunk. When we got back home, I collapsed onto the couch and started loosening my tie.

Elise suddenly slid onto my lap. Her curves, molded by her gown, were like a net that snared my attention and held tight. She snaked her arms around my neck, her voice honey-sweet as she asked, "Do I look good?"

Heat surged through me, and I yanked off my tie. "So what if you do? It's not like I can have a taste."

Would anyone understand the torture of having a knockout beauty right in front of them, but only being able to look without touching them? It was like having a gourmet feast set within arm's reach but only being allowed to sit there and swallow back saliva.

It was a double torture on my body and soul.

"Are you seriously just going to look and not touch when I'm already being this forward?" Elise asked. With that, she slowly pulled down the zipper of her gown.