The city lights had just come on, and the night was only getting started.

Inside SOHO, one of Pengcheng’s top-tier private clubs, Serena Whitfield was sitting with a friend, listening to her vent. The whole thing was about her cousin and the cousin’s husband, who were now locked in a full-on divorce war.

Her friend took a sip of wine and said, "Men in business? Please. Clean and loyal? That’s basically a fantasy. They’ve got endless work dinners, endless networking, endless temptation. Honestly, if a guy can just manage not to think with the wrong head, that already counts as rare. My cousin used to turn a blind eye. At least she thought her husband wouldn’t be low enough to book hotel rooms with random women behind her back. Turns out she seriously misread him. That trash has cheated more than once. Different women, stacks of hotel records. Like, he’s messing around this hard and he’s not even scared of catching something?"

Serena said, "Doesn’t he use protection?"

But the moment the words left her mouth, even she felt grossed out. Protection wasn’t some magic shield anyway.

Her friend let out a short laugh, then sighed. "Ugh. Men are all predators. The second lust hits them, their brains go offline. They don’t think that far. Right, Sera?"

Serena thought for a moment before answering, "Businessmen do end up hanging around those places a lot. In that kind of setting, honestly, almost any man can have a physical reaction when a sexy, flirtatious woman who knows exactly what she’s doing keeps pushing his buttons. But whether he actually crosses the line? That depends on his heart. On whether he wants to indulge himself or hold back. People aren’t animals. They do have self-control."

Her friend nodded. "True."

Serena asked, "So your cousin wants a divorce. Is that jerk agreeing to it?"

Her friend’s voice instantly rose. "Of course not! That scumbag wants the best of both worlds—mess around outside, keep the wife at home, nice and stable. But my cousin can’t live with a marriage like that. She’s done. She already hired a lawyer and is filing for divorce."

Serena sighed too after hearing that. Some trash men really had no shame at all.

Not long after, Serena’s phone rang. The signal inside the private room sucked, so she said a quick word to her friend and stepped out onto the terrace to take the call.

After she finished, her eyes drifted out by chance—and she spotted a man and a woman kissing hard in the shadows outside the terrace.

When she got a clearer look at the man’s face, she froze for a second.

She knew him.

It was Brendan Holloway, the exact cheating husband her friend had just been ranting about. As for the woman curled up against his chest, Serena couldn’t see her face clearly, but from that soft, clingy posture alone, it was obvious she was definitely not her friend’s cousin.

Serena’s first instinct was to pretend she’d seen nothing and leave.

But apparently, the people involved had already noticed her.

After the kiss, Brendan signaled for the woman beside him to go first. Then he strode over and blocked Serena with one arm.

"Serena, is Jasmine Thornton with you?"

Serena had just opened her mouth to say no when the phone in her hand rang again.

The screen lit up with the name: Jasmine Thornton.

Brendan saw it too. The next second, he snatched the phone right out of her hand.

Serena hadn’t expected him to be this rude. She blanked for a beat, then immediately tried to grab it back, but the height difference was brutal. She couldn’t reach it at all.

Brendan answered the call and instantly started arguing with the person on the other end. Serena had no idea what Jasmine said, but whatever it was, it clearly hit a nerve. In a burst of anger, he suddenly flung Serena’s phone hard against the wall.

Smack.

The sharp sound made Serena go completely still on the spot.

Her mind hadn’t even caught up yet when she heard a soft click behind her—the unmistakable sound of a lighter flipping open.

Then a faint trace of cigarette smoke drifted past her nose.

That small sound made Serena turn her head.

At the edge of the terrace, near the door of a VIP room, a man had just stepped out. A cigarette rested between his lips as he walked over at an unhurried pace, his long legs straight and powerful.

He was wearing a perfectly tailored suit, and his build was tall and broad in a way that naturally drew the eye.

The lighting around the terrace was dim, so Serena couldn’t make out his face clearly. But after only a few glances, she could already tell—every move he made carried the easy, dangerous charm of a fully grown man.