I Know How to Make You Jealous

I was excited. I was damp, but a hint of panic surfaced in my beautiful eyes.

I raised my hand, pushing back on Scott's. "Mr. Langley, your wife is here… Your hand…"

It was only then that he seemed to remember his hand was still inside my blouse, gripping my breasts firmly.

He quickly withdrew his hands. "I'm sorry. I mistook you for someone else," he muttered.

"Miss Adrianna, you should leave," he ordered in a firm tone, trying to dismiss me.

But I didn't move. Instead, I grabbed his wrist with a trembling hand, my face a picture of stunning panic.

"Your wife is very possessive and doesn't allow any other women near you, Mr. Langley."

My voice quivered, growing more desperate. "If I walk out now, she'll misunderstand. What should I do? I don't want to die!"

The word 'die' visibly shook him, triggering a dark shadow of painful memories to cross his face.

Just then, the door clicked open.

Michele stepped into the room.

She had caught wind of Scott being overly drunk and dressed carefully for what she deemed an opportune moment.

Her wavy hair, freshly washed, cascaded sensuously down her back while the thin straps of her seductive nightgown highlighted her curves.

A flirtatious smile played on her red lips as she approached, her voice honeyed, "Honey, I heard you had a bit too much to drink. Are you holding up alright?"

Her eyes took in the sight of Scott lying sideways on the bed, propped up on one elbow with a hand supporting his head, a thin blanket draped over his lower torso.

However, she was oblivious to my presence.

Moments before, I had leaped onto the bed and tucked myself behind him. As I did, I pulled the thin blanket over both of us, a desperate attempt to stay concealed.

The space left for me was so constrained I could only press tightly against him. My soft, rosy lips lingered near the sensitive spot on his lower back, my warm breath teasing him in a barely noticeable way.

Like a playful kitten, I was gently provoking him, and it was irresistibly alluring.

I could feel the tension in his body as he spoke in a strained voice, "It's fine. You should leave."

Michele's eyes instantly filled with unshed tears upon hearing this. She bit her lip, her voice trembling with both hurt and defiance as she mumbled, "Why must you always be so cold to me?"

Scott remained unmoved. "I've already made you my wife. What more do you want? You can't be too greedy!"

"Greedy?" Michele's voice rose, quivering with pent-up emotion.

The silent rejection had worn her down, pushing her to the edge. Now, she was standing on the brink of a breakdown.

"I'm your wife!" she cried out, her voice cracking under the weight of her desperation.

"Is it so wrong for me to want my husband's affection?"

Her voice faltered, a choked plea trembling from her lips, "I just… I just want a child. A child… one that belongs to both of us…" she spoke slowly, adding with a hopeful look, "That way, we can give our parents some closure. Doesn't that sound good?"

My gaze turned icy, a murderous aura coiling within my eyes.

'My son is dead. How can the one responsible for his death roam free and still indulge in dreams of motherhood? Michele doesn't deserve a child at all!' I cursed inwardly.

I feigned a nervous, flustered expression as I brought my face closer to him. Gently, I let my breath hover near his hip, just barely brushing against him through the thin fabric of his suit pants.

This subtle tease was intentional; how could Scott possibly resist?

His body trembled, and a low moan escaped from deep in his throat, "Mmm…"

"Scott…" Michele stood frozen, disbelief etched across her face.

Suddenly, realization seemed to hit her, and her body went rigid as her eyes reddened with anger.

I was feeling a thrill of excitement.

Not wanting the tension to drop, I deliberately shifted a little, ensuring the silhouette of a woman beneath the thin blanket was briefly visible.

Michele saw everything.

Fury overwhelmed her. Casting aside all concern for her image, she prepared to rush forward, intent on tearing apart the temptress hiding beneath the blanket.

Take the Money and Leave My Man Alone

"Stop right there!" Scott's low voice rang out, his handsome face now marred with thinly veiled disgust and anger. "Michele, don't make me hate you even more."

At those words, Michele froze in her tracks.

Her eyes, red and swollen, were brimming with sorrow, humiliation, and an unwillingness to accept defeat. Yet, she ultimately gave in, deflating like a punctured balloon.

Gritting her teeth, her voice filled with stubbornness and pure anger, she declared, "In this lifetime, the only wife you will have is me, Michele! No other woman should even think about it!"

With that, she spun on her heel, feigning composure, though her steps were unsteady as she staggered away.

As Michele's footsteps faded into the distance, a pang of disappointment tugged at me. However, I remained composed, aware that this was just the beginning of a long journey filled with more thrilling encounters ahead.

The moment Michele disappeared, Scott immediately got off the bed and put a deliberate distance between us. I mirrored his actions, standing by the bedside.

With his back to me, Scott's voice was tinged with frustration as he growled, "Get out! You're just—"

But before he could complete his sentence, condemning me to merely being his secretary, I had already turned and dashed out of the room.

Scott was left stunned, slowly turning as his gaze followed my swift departure. A flicker of exasperation crossed his face, his lips twitching silently at my abrupt exit.

…

The next morning, as I stepped out of my small, rented apartment, a van screeched to a halt right in front of me.

Before I could react, two men in black suits emerged, one on either side. Without a word, they grabbed my arms and shoved me toward the open van door.

Panic surged through me as I demanded, "Who are you? Why did you catch me?"

One of the men sneered coldly, "Hmph! Do you think you're the first woman to try and seduce our boss? You're playing with fire if you think your little tricks can be hidden from the lady of the house."

'The lady of the house? Is he talking about Michele?' My mind raced.

It had only been yesterday that I escorted the intoxicated Scott back to the Langley Residence before making my exit.

If Michele decided to investigate my whereabouts, she would quickly discover my visit. 'Have I been found out before I even made my move? Shit! I've been too careless!'

…

To my surprise, however, the men drove me to a cafe.

There, in the cafe, sat Michele, lounging back in her chair with one leg crossed over the other.

She glanced at me haughtily and commanded in a tone that brooked no argument, "Sit!"

I frowned slightly, a brief hesitation flickering through my thoughts. Before I could organize them, a firm shove from behind sent me stumbling forward.

I landed awkwardly on the chair opposite Michele with a thud, looking utterly disheveled.

"Ha!" Michele let out a soft scoff, lifting her coffee cup for a slow, deliberate sip before fixing her gaze back on me.

"Tell me, how much money will it take for you to leave Mr. Langley?" she asked with haughty disdain.

My heart clenched at the bluntness of her query, but I maintained my composure, careful not to betray any emotion.

"Mrs. Langley, I think you've misunderstood. I'm just Mr. Langley's secretary. There's nothing personal between us."

I wasn't lying. Currently, I was indeed flirting with Scott. Though his instincts were clearly aroused, he hadn't fully taken my bait yet.

"So—"

Before I could finish, a card flew through the air and struck my face with its sharp edge, slicing a stinging pain across my cheek.

I was shocked by Michele's brazenness, especially going so far as to humiliate me in public.

"Ha! A woman like you, clinging to whatever beauty you have left, throwing yourself at any man with money and power. Isn't that exactly what you are? A gold digger?"

Michele's fingers intertwined as she leaned forward, her elbows on the table and her chin resting on her knuckles.

She glared at me, her rosy lips moving with a sharp, cutting tone as she commented, "There's 10 million in this card. No matter how skilled you are at making money, you'd never earn this much on your own, even if you sleep with countless men."

Her voice rose, and she did not bother to keep it down. "Adrianna Nanami, why don't you just nicely take the money and get out of my sight?"

Around us, the other customers turned their attention our way. Mocking gazes landed on me as whispers began to circulate and fingers rudely pointed in my direction.

I Will Not Let History Repeat Itself

My blood ran cold.

I kept my head lowered, my fingers absently rubbing the handle of my coffee cup. Then, suddenly, my grip tightened, and a cold gleam flickered in my eyes.

'Who does Michele think she is? Just some shameless woman throwing herself at a man, desperate for attention, fawning over someone who doesn't care about her.

'Without my son's heart, she wouldn't be alive today,' I mused. 'And she has the nerve to come here and humiliate me? On what grounds?'

My fingertips clutched the cup's handle more tightly than ever, and the temptation to fling the hot coffee straight into Michele's smug face was overwhelming.

But I knew that the time was not right, and for now, I had to endure.

After what felt like an eternity, I released my grip on the cup.

I slowly picked up the bank card that had been lying on the table between us.

Calmly, I pushed it back across to her, put on an innocent expression, and said, "Mrs. Langley, you've got it all wrong. There's nothing between me and Mr. Langley. It's just a professional relationship. That's all."

I feigned confusion, my tone almost pitying as I commented, "Why be so paranoid? Do you not have any confidence in yourself?"

Michele hadn't expected me to be so unyielding and composed. She was visibly caught off guard.

Her face twisted with barely restrained fury as she muttered, "Adrianna, you'd better watch yourself!"

She grabbed the card and, without another word, stormed out.

…

After leaving the cafe, I walked along the streets alone, my brows furrowed deep in thought. 'Michele's suspicions are mounting. What should I do now? I needed to secure my position with Scott quickly, but how?'

Lost in my contemplations, I was suddenly jolted back to reality by the roar of a vehicle, causing me to flinch.

Instinctively, I turned toward the source of the noise.

At the far end of the street, near the intersection, a big truck was barreling toward me.

A light-bulb moment struck me.

'Scott's first love had died in a car crash, right? Hit by a speeding vehicle, her life had ended in a sudden, violent tragedy.' I thought to myself.

Hence, I was left with no choice but to gamble on this.

With my mind made up, I quickly pulled out my phone and dialed Scott.

"Adrianna, why aren't you at work?" Scott's voice came through.

"Mr. Langley!" My voice trembled, weak and shaky as if I were on the verge of tears. "Just now, Mrs. Langley had her men drag me to a cafe. She threw a bank card in my face and told me to take it and disappear from your life.

"I tried to explain to her that it was all a misunderstanding, but she wouldn't believe me. She even warned me to be careful. And I—"

Before I could finish the sentence, I was interrupted by the sharp roar of a truck's engine.

Then, all I could hear was my own terrified scream. "Ah!"

My body was hurled through the air like a ragdoll, everything fading to black as the phone slipped from my hand and clattered to the ground.

From the phone, Scott's anxious voice echoed faintly, growing more distant with every second. "Adrianna? Adrianna!"

…

I woke up to find myself lying in a hospital bed.

I sucked in a gasp of pain.

Just the thought of moving sent waves of pain through every inch of my body.

"Don't move!" The deep, commanding voice startled me, and then I felt a strong arm wrap gently but firmly around my weak shoulders, preventing me from sitting up.

The heat of his body was unmistakable as it seeped into me, and I was momentarily too stunned to react before I looked up.

His face, etched with concern, hovered into view. A lump formed in my throat, and my eyes stung with unshed tears. "Mr. Langley…" My voice broke with emotion.

As I looked up at him, tears filled my eyes. My lips quivered, and I felt as vulnerable as a frightened deer. "That truck… It came right at me. I thought… I thought I was going to die."

"Mr. Langley, I'm so scared! Mrs. Langley… She'll never let me go." My voice trembled as I clung tightly to his suit.

My pitiful expression was designed to evoke protective instincts, particularly given my resemblance to his deceased lover.

He hesitated, but only for a moment. His hand, rough yet gentle, traced the curve of my cheek with pity.

"She won't," he murmured, his voice laden with emotion. "I won't let the same thing happen again."

The word 'again' hung heavy in the air, carrying with it an unspoken meaning. It seemed he sought to compensate for the regret he harbored over his previous lover by transferring his affections to me.

If it meant reclaiming my son's heart, I was willing to become a substitute for someone who had died long ago.

Without hesitation, I collapsed into his arms and wrapped myself around his sturdy waist.

His breathing grew ragged, his emotions finally stirring.

His hand, previously still, became restless and began to reach for my collar.

Just then, the door to the ward slammed open with a bang, and Michele burst in.