After her mother's funeral, Ai Xixuan returned to the villa with a heavy heart, intending to collect the keepsakes her mother had left for her.

Yet, her father blocked her at the doorway.

"I'm here to take Mother's belongings," Ai Xixuan muttered without looking up, her eyes fixed on the floor in silent defiance. Her voice was laced with exhaustion.

This was the same man who, after her mother's passing, had welcomed his mistress and illegitimate daughter into their home, driving her out like an unwelcome guest.

"Xuanxuan, have you thought about what we discussed last time?" Her father's expression twisted uncomfortably. After all, they were still father and daughter—had it not been for Wanping's domineering nature, things might not have come to this.

At the mention of that "discussion," Ai Xixuan clenched her fists, barely containing her fury. Her stepmother and half-sister, barely a day in the house, had already arranged a suitor for her.

Under the guise of securing her future, they were really scheming to force her out of the home she had lived in for eighteen years. She saw right through it and refused to play along.

"I said I'll leave once I have Mother's things. Don’t stand in my way." She no longer even addressed him as "Father," shoving past him in a futile attempt to enter.

Her heart had turned to ice. Through tear-blurred eyes, she stared at the man who should have been comforting her with a gentle pat on the head. But his next words froze the blood in her veins.

"Xuanxuan, you know the company’s struggling right now. Your stepmother thinks it’d be best if you... got closer to Young Master Jian. His support could help us through this rough patch. Once that’s settled, she’ll return everything to you. Win-win, don’t you think?"

From where she stood, Ai Xixuan could see her mother’s black-and-white portrait in the bedroom. She wondered how her mother—if her spirit still lingered—would feel hearing such words. Barely three days after her passing, her own husband was taking orders from another woman, ready to trade their daughter of eighteen years for financial relief!

It was absurd. A sick joke.

Yet, she had no choice but to comply.

"Fine. I’ll do it. But only because there’s still a shred of decency left between us. Once this deal is done, we’re through." She let out a cold laugh, mocking herself for surrendering so easily—and mocking the world that forced good people into corruption.

Her father, having gotten what he wanted, offered hollow pleasantries before ushering her without delay to a prearranged display: a designer cocktail dress, crystal heels, an array of cosmetics, and glittering jewelry. Nearby, a maid spritzed her with Gucci’s *Guilty* perfume, dousing her pulse points without asking.

She knew all too well—this father bewitched by his new wife was going to meticulously package her up before putting her on the market, just to fetch a higher price!

After a flurry of preparations, the once plainly dressed Ai Xixuan had been transformed into a seductive young woman, while her father lurked in the corner, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips.

The man they were trying to please today wasn’t just the wealthiest in the city—he was a rising star who held sway over both the underworld and high society. A single word from him could not only salvage their failing company but propel them to unimaginable heights. Sacrificing one daughter was a small price to pay.

Besides, he had more than one daughter to spare.

An hour later, Ai’s father waited eagerly outside the Hilton Hotel, while Ai Xixuan had already been delivered to the presidential suite. In the pitch-black room, she could barely make out the furnishings by the dim light seeping in from outside.

Clutching the hem of her dress, she bit down hard on her lower lip, vowing to remember this day of humiliation forever.

"Master Jian, your plaything is ready!"

Downstairs, the moment Ai’s father spotted the limited-edition gold Aston Martin, he bent into a servile bow before the man stepping out of it. Though half his age, the young man carried an innate air of dominance that compelled others to grovel in his presence.

"Well done. I’ll grant your request." Jian Yuanyou’s gaze never once settled on the older man as he tossed out the reward with detached indifference, leaving Ai’s father grinning from ear to ear.

This was the kind of man Jian Yuanyou was—charming yet twisted. He reveled in the sight of a father selling out his own daughter while groveling in gratitude.

The more despicable the act, the sweeter his own sense of superiority.

With deliberate, unhurried steps, Jian approached his prey for the night. He was curious—what kind of father and daughter could be so perfectly aligned in their willingness to trade flesh for fortune?

*Creak.* The silence of the dark room shattered as the door swung open.

Ai Xixuan’s palms were slick with sweat, her mind reeling as she braced for the devil’s judgment. She had considered fleeing, but for the sake of her mother’s last memento, she endured. Without a home, without a father, she couldn’t bear to lose the final remnant of her mother’s love.

In the darkness, Jian Yuanyou could just make out a small, trembling figure curled into a tight ball on the vast waterbed, pressed against the corner.

A wave of disgust rose in his heart at the woman's vulgar tactics. He detested her calculated coyness—how she'd sold herself for the company's investment, colluded with his father, yet still pretended to be some innocent maiden.

The thought made Jian Yuanyou's blood boil. Tossing aside his jacket, he lunged onto the bed with predatory force.

"Get off me, you brute!"

She was untouched, her heart hammering like a frightened deer in her chest. The harder she struggled against the man's weight, the tighter his iron grip locked around her. His rough hands roamed freely down her neck, leaving no inch unclaimed.

His domineering kisses came like a storm, each one a branding reminder of her humiliation.

"I've done what was required. Now, would you mind moving? You're crushing me."

Her words were cold, transactional—a business negotiation in the dark. Though Jian Yuanyou's expression was invisible in the shadows, she could practically feel his fury radiating. Still, he shifted his weight and stalked toward the bathroom. He had never been one to sleep drenched in sweat, and his retreat gave Ai Xixuan the opening she needed.

The rush of water from the shower filled the room. Unlike the other women who clawed for a place in Jian Yuanyou's bed, desperate to please him at every second, Ai Xixuan had no such intentions.

Gathering the torn scraps of her dress from the floor, she draped them hastily over herself. Every muscle ached as she limped toward the door, slipping out of the hotel like a shadow. Downstairs, her father waited, exhaling only when he saw her disheveled state.

It seemed Young Master Jian had indeed savored his prize.