In the luxurious presidential suite atop the Yunyang Hotel.

A completely naked woman lay sprawled across the pristine white sheets of the plush bed. The faint sound of running water from the bathroom made her brows furrow in discomfort, her body growing increasingly restless.

"So hot... I'm burning up..."

Her voluptuous figure writhed restlessly, a thin sheen of sweat glistening across her skin. Her lips parted slightly, her breathing uneven and shallow. The unnatural flush on her cheeks betrayed her state.

Meanwhile, a strikingly beautiful face appeared briefly at the door, a venomous smirk curling her lips before she quietly shut it behind her.

From the bathroom emerged a man, a towel loosely draped around his waist. Droplets of water trailed down his chiseled torso, disappearing into the tantalizing depths of the towel.

His sharp, hawk-like gaze immediately locked onto the petite woman squirming helplessly on the bed.

A cold smirk twisted his lips.

*This old trick again. The old man really never gets tired of this game.*

He strode forward, fully intending to toss the flawless, fair-skinned woman out—until his eyes caught the delicate, almost translucent hollow of her collarbone.

Just below that elegant curve lay a birthmark, perfectly shaped like a budding flower.

A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes. His grip tightened as he studied her face intently. Without hesitation, he tore off his towel and pinned her beneath him.

The room melted into a haze of passion.

...

The next day.

Su Xiaomo woke up with a splitting headache, her entire body aching as if she'd been run over by a truck. Blinking at the blinding white ceiling, she struggled to piece together what had happened.

Rubbing her throbbing temples, she forced herself to sit up—only to freeze.

A sharp, burning pain radiated from between her legs. Heart pounding, she yanked the covers aside, but the sheets were pristine, untouched. No trace of anything amiss.

Yet... she might be inexperienced, but she wasn’t stupid. Last night...

Fragmented memories flooded back—a tall, powerfully built man, his skin cool against her feverish body, his touch both intoxicating and relentless.

It hadn’t been a dream.

But last night was supposed to be her bachelorette party—the final celebration before her engagement! Snatching her phone, she turned it on, her stomach dropping when the screen flashed 12:00 PM.

Panicked, she scrambled into her crumpled clothes and bolted downstairs, hailing a cab without a second thought. "Qi Mo’s penthouse—now!" she urged the driver, her voice tight with urgency.

Twenty minutes later, she wiped the sweat from her brow as she arrived at the sleek high-rise. She raised a hand to knock—only to find the heavy security door slightly ajar. A gentle push sent it swinging open.

Silence.

Then—

"Qi Mo..."

The saccharine, breathy voice sent a jolt of irritation through her. There was no mistaking it—that was Su Xinxin.

Standing at the door, Su Xiaomo felt her entire body stiffen, all the blood rushing to her head in an instant, a metallic taste flooding her throat.

"Baby, you're amazing..."

That unmistakable voice—it was indeed her Qi Mo. But the wicked, unrestrained pleasure in his tone was utterly foreign to her.

"Hmph... liar! If I'm so amazing, why are you still marrying Su Xiaomo?" Su Xinxin cooed petulantly.

"My sweetheart, Su Xiaomo is the heir to the Su family now. Marrying her is just a means to help you take control of the family, isn't it?"

"Ha! What if Su Xiaomo gives you a child? You’d just toss me aside, wouldn’t you? Mmm..."

"Baby, you’re breaking my heart. That kind of woman, acting all high and mighty—I haven’t even touched her. Besides, aren’t you the one slipping her those pills? After all this time, how could she possibly get pregnant?"

Su Xiaomo felt as if a thunderbolt had struck her. A fire raged in her chest, her blood boiling with uncontrollable fury.

She didn’t know whether she was more enraged or devastated.

They had been scheming behind her back—this vile, calculated betrayal. And they had been drugging her! Su Xiaomo wanted nothing more than to tear the treacherous pair apart.

Now that she thought about it, hadn’t Su Xinxin been the one to hand her that last glass of wine yesterday? It must have been laced with something—that was why she had ended up with another man...

Gritting her teeth, Su Xiaomo shoved the door open with a violent crash, startling the entwined lovers from their bliss. A flash of malicious triumph flickered in Su Xinxin’s eyes.

Ye Qimo’s handsome face paled with panic.

"Xiaomo, what are you doing here?" he stammered, scrambling to cover himself, his face flushed with guilt. "Xiaomo, it’s not what you think."

Su Xiaomo curled her lips into a bitter smile. She had truly been blind.

"Ye Qimo, let's call off the wedding."

She had imagined herself flying into a rage, clawing at Su Xinxin's falsely innocent face. But to her own surprise, she found herself eerily calm.

Ye Qimo's face had turned ashen, his expression twisted into something ugly and dark—perhaps his true colors, though he still struggled to mask them as he desperately tried to explain.

"Xiao Mo, listen to me, it's not what you think—"

"Don't call me Xiao Mo!" Su Xiaomo finally snapped, her voice cracking under the weight of disgust. "When you were holding Su Xinxin, when you were doing those things with her—did you even remember who I was?!" Her scream tore through the air, her eyes brimming with bitter, heartbroken tears.

Years of love, now reduced to this humiliating wreckage. The pain in her chest was unbearable.

"I'm sorry, little sister… It's all my fault…" Su Xinxin sobbed softly, her delicate face streaked with tears, her expression the very picture of remorse.

"Don't call me your sister!" Xiaomo raised her hand—but in the end, she couldn’t bring herself to strike.

This… This was all Su Xinxin’s scheme!

"You two… will pay for this!" Xiaomo glared at Ye Qimo, her lips curling into a mocking smile. "Do you really think Su Xinxin loves you? Or that you can steal the Su family from me? Keep dreaming!"

With one last furious glance at the wretched pair, the tear-streaked woman turned and stumbled away.

A flicker of regret passed through Ye Qimo’s eyes—but he crushed it mercilessly, replacing it with cold, unrelenting hatred.

"Now that Su Xiaomo knows, what happens to our plan?" He eyed Su Xinxin’s pitiful act, barely suppressing his impatience.

Wiping away her tears, Xinxin straightened, her lips curving into a faint, indifferent smile. She had intended to release the damning recording, but another idea crossed her mind—one that made her gaze at Ye Qimo with a sly, almost predatory gleam.

"The plan continues as before. I’ll make sure Su Xiaomo marries you." She bent to pick up her discarded clothes, her icy smirk vanishing as quickly as it appeared. If Xiaomo died too easily, it wouldn’t be nearly satisfying enough.

Ye Qimo watched Xinxin’s slender figure retreat, his dark eyes glinting with unspoken thoughts.

But just as quickly, his expression smoothed over—calm, unreadable, betraying nothing.