It was Qiao Jinmo.
Qiao Jinmo had arrived. He stood at the door to the study, dressed all in black, his eyes fixed on me with a look of cold disgust.
And there I was, my pale, youthful body draped over a mature, well-dressed man as he—Zhou Sihan—buried his face in my chest. It was a scandalous sight.
We were in the same position Qiao Jinmo and I had been in just last night. The thought must have c
















