"Ah...deeper! Ah! So comfortable!"

The woman's sharp screams of pleasure, each louder than the last, resounded from within the room, as if she was intent on shattering someone's eardrums.

Martina Barret stood outside the door, staring blankly at the clothing scattered at the entrance - a man's belt, a woman's stockings, and a lace bra.

The most glaring sight was a pair of fiery thongs.

She recognized the belt, it was her husband Ansel Tobias's.

Martina bit her lip as tears slowly fell down her face.

What a joke, just a few hours ago, she was almost raped at a hotel, and her husband is having an affair with another woman at home!

In her tear-filled gaze, Martina's thoughts drifted back to four hours ago.

*************

"Happy one-year anniversary, my love!"

The music lulled in the background at the hotel’s restaurant.

Martina looked at the handsome man sitting opposite her, her husband Ansel, whom she had barely seen throughout their one-year marriage.

For the entire year, he had never touched her, even to the extent of not sleeping together in the same bed, so when he remembered this day, she was taken by surprise.

Could it be that he had finally realized he wanted to rekindle their relationship?

A sour feeling pricked at her nose; all of a sudden, she felt like she had weathered a storm to see a bright moon.

She held up her glass with a petite hand, and toasted with him, her smile bright. "Happy anniversary."

At his urging, she drank glass after glass.

After a meal, Martina was already too drunk to know what was around her. Ansel led her upstairs to a hotel room, stopping in front of a door.

The door opened to reveal a young man. Agitated, he confronted Ansel, "Why are you only here now?"

Ansel didn't answer his question, only spoke softly: "Mark, as we agreed, just take a few pictures..."

"Stop talking." Mark interrupted his speech, then waved him away. "Just leave her to me, Celine is still waiting for you to help with her birthday celebration. Hurry up now."

Ansel frowned slightly and hesitated, but still left.

Inside the hotel room...

Mark looked down at the unconscious Martina on the bed, his gaze hardened, and he forced a pill into her mouth.

"Martina, if you have to blame someone, blame yourself for being so cheap. You wanted to marry Ansel and ruin Celine's happiness! Only if you cheated can he divorce you, and he would no longer be stopped by his father."

He hid a pinhole camera well. At that moment, the door was gently knocked on.

Upon opening the door, a sleazy-looking man with twinkling eyes stood at the doorway. "Mr...."

Mark stepped to the side, creating a path. "This woman is yours, just be fierce. As long as you do not kill her."

As he finished speaking, he left distinguished-looking with a triumphant smile, not noticing that not far away, a tall and distinguished looking man had seen the whole event unfold.

...

As soon as Mark left, the shifty man didn't even have time to close the door before he walked towards the bed with a lewd smile.

"So hot...so hot..." It seemed the effects of the drug were kicking in. On the big bed, Martina twisted her soft and beautiful body. Her fair hands tore at her dress, her jade-like neck, and her long and even legs were full of allure.

Seeing this scene, the obscene man couldn’t restrain himself any longer, swallowed hard, and pounced on Martina.

However, before he managed to lay a second kiss, a sudden force hit him from his neck. The next moment, he was thrown back and hit the wall with a loud thud.

"Damn it! That bastard ruined my plan!" The vulgar man grimaced in pain as he tried to get up. When he lifted his head and saw the man standing before him, his face turned parchment white and he was unable to utter a single word.

An imposing tall figure, a somewhat thin body, and sharply defined facial features beautifully sculpted. At first glance, he seemed like a refined and handsome man. But his aura was icy cold and terrifying.

Especially those deep black eyes, from which two lines of sight shot out, sharp as if they were fine blades. His tightly pursed lips added a cold, menacing touch.

Within an instant, the shady man was beaten to the point where his face was unrecognizable and he fell in the corner, tied up tightly.

Then, the man moved towards the bed.

On the bed, Martina, with her eyes tightly closed and her lips slightly pouted, was muttering about the heat.

The man noticed the red love bite on her neck at a single glance. His pupils contracted instantly, a feeling of intense murderous intent emanated from his body. The lewd man, terrified by the aura, was drenched in cold sweat and hid in a corner without daring to make a sound.

The man bent over and gently nudged the woman on the bed, "Martina...Martina...wake up..."

His voice was soft and low, starkly contrasted with the violent fury he exhibited just moments ago.

Finally, Martina opened her eyes.

She stared at the man in front of her with hazy eyes. After a few seconds, she struggled to get up, plunging herself into his arms, mumbling, "Hold me…”

Her voice, spoiled and sweet, was marvellously inviting.

The man lowered his eyes with a complex look, staring at the quirky woman in his arms. His body slightly stiffened, and his voice unconsciously softened, "Martina…"

He tried to push her away, but she just held onto him tighter, clinging to him like a koala.

Martina chuckled, the delicate sway of her petite body rubbing against him: "I'm hot... But when I hold onto you, I'm not hot anymore, ha-ha..."

Hot?

It was then that the man noticed her small face was exceptionally flushed, and it wasn't as simple as being drunk.

A hint of ruthlessness flashed in his eyes as if he had realized something.

Martina was entirely clueless, irritably clinginess to him, and even stretched out her hand to pull at his clothes.

This was definitely dangerous if it continued!

The man pushed her away with force, and she stumbled and fell onto the bed.

"Ansel, do you dislike me that much…" On her beautiful face unfurled a look of hurt, "We have been married for a year. You have neglected and ignored me, but I have silently endured it all...”

The man looked at her reddened eyes, and the depths of his gaze became more intense.

"He... doesn't treat you well?" Lingering hesitations, he eventually asked the question.

"He doesn't even bother when I am not around. And when he's present, doesn't want to converse. He doesn't care about me, doesn't pay any attention to me... Bastard, how are you being good to me?"

As Martina spoke, she suddenly leaned in to kiss him. Her full, soft red lips and the warm, sweet breath took the man by surprise. His mind went blank, as if struck by lightning. Common sense was telling him to push her away, yet his hand resting on her waist was reluctant to budge.

Kiss after kiss. Just when Martina was about to give up, finally, he responded. Such a rare response made her so happy that she could almost fly to the heavens, clutching onto him even tighter. An empty heart seemed to be filled with something unknown, so much so that it threatened to overflow. Yet, she felt it was not enough.

With a delicate whisper, she murmured to the man beside her, "Husband... if you want to reconcile with me, I'll forget your wrongs. Who told me to love you so..."

Such sweet nothings were like a bucket of iced water pouring down, waking the man up from the passionate embrace. His handsome eyebrows furrowed. Despite reluctance, he let go of the sweet touch of her lips, picked her up in his arms, and headed towards the bathroom.

Cold water poured down from the overhead shower, soaking Martina and drenching him as well. It startled a scream out of her. As she struggled to escape, he held her firmly, not allowing her to run.

The continuous flow of cold water was reviving. Under such stimulation, Martina gradually regained her senses, her brows furrowed due to a splitting headache. Slowly opening her eyes, the first thing she saw was a man's broad chest. A red button of his wet shirt was less than an inch away from her lips.

Martina's face turned red with embarrassment. Her heartbeat raced. Could it be Ansel?

Slowly, she lifted her head only to meet an unexpectedly unfamiliar face, a stunning visage so impressive it could leave a person breathless.

"Awake?" The man brushed off his previous gentleness, his expression indifferent and distant, looking at her as if he were seeing a stranger for the first time.

"Ah..." Martina snapped out of it, and with a scream, she pushed him away, stammering out, "Who... who are you? What do you want to do? Why are you in my bed?"

She realized her entire body was wet, revealing her curves in detail.

His white shirt was somewhat disheveled, not only thoroughly wet but also with three buttons undone, exposing his perfect physique, firm chest, and elegantly sculpted muscles without a trace of excess fat.

Wasn't she celebrating her marriage anniversary with Mark in the restaurant, how did she end up here in a hotel's bathroom? Moreover, both of them were soaking wet and this man was holding her tightly...

A sudden flash of a kissing scene passed before her eyes, and Martina took in a sharp inhale, pointing at him furiously, "What did you do to me? Did you take advantage of me while I was drunk?"