Qiao Yan was here. A thrill shot through me, but I filled my wide, doe-like eyes with panic, shoving at Zhou Sihan’s arm with my small hands. "His wife is here! Sir, your hand—get it out!" Only then did Zhou Sihan seem to realize his hand was still inside my dress. He snatched it back. "My apologies. I thought you were my wife." With that, he turned to leave. But I grabbed his arm, my voice trembling with manufactured fear. "The Madam forbids us maids from getting near you, sir. If she finds us in here together, she'll be furious! What are we going to do?" A moment later, the door clicked open, and Qiao Yan stepped inside. Qiao Yan was a vision—all red lips and cascading curls. Her eyes landed on Zhou Sihan at the desk, and a syrupy sweet smile spread across her face. "Darling, you're back?" Qiao Yan could only see her husband sitting in his chair. She had no idea where I was. The moment I’d stopped him, I had pulled Zhou Sihan down into the chair and scrambled underneath the desk. The space was impossibly cramped. Zhou Sihan's long legs, clad in black suit trousers, were parted, and I was crouched right between them. Zhou Sihan lowered his handsome gaze to me. I tilted my own palm-sized, exquisite face up, looking back at him with the widest, most innocent eyes I could muster. I gave him a pathetic little shake of my head, begging him not to give me away. I knew this was my most alluring look: a perfect, irresistible blend of innocence and seduction. To a man's eyes, it was devastating. Sure enough, Zhou Sihan played along. He nodded at Qiao Yan. "Darling. I just got back." Qiao Yan didn’t come closer. Instead, she unwrapped a package, revealing a piece of risqué lingerie. She held it against herself, her eyes teasing Zhou Sihan. "Do you like it, darling?" Zhou Sihan looked up at her. I knew Qiao Yan was no amateur. Before marrying Zhou Sihan, she’d run through a series of top-tier boyfriends, even having a son with one of them. But when the Zhou and Qiao families arranged the marriage, her past—the lovers, the illegitimate child—was all neatly 'taken care of'. How much blood had been shed for this marriage of hers? A smirk touched my lips. Qiao Yan knew how to play? So did I. Zhou Sihan was already aroused, thanks to me. I had to admit, he was even younger and more handsome in person than in the photos. And from this vantage point, it was clear he was… well-equipped. Compared to him, Qiao Yan’s past lovers were nothing. No wonder she’d given up her wild ways for him, clinging to him for dear life. I feigned a clumsy movement, letting my face drift closer. My soft, cherubic face, the picture of youth, brushed against the fabric of his black trousers. A ghost of a touch, my warm breath fanning through the thin material. What man could possibly resist that? Zhou Sihan went rigid. A moment later, I heard his voice, tight and strained, reply to Qiao Yan. "I like it." The words were clipped, utterly perfunctory. Then his gaze dropped, locking onto my face. I had won. I had stolen his attention right from under his wife’s nose. I kept up the act, my doe-eyes darting around as if terrified, and I quickly pulled my face back. Inside, I was ecstatic. *How do you like that, Zhou Sihan?* Qiao Yan, completely oblivious, chirped happily, "Darling, I'm going to go shower and put it on for you." Zhou Sihan’s voice was hoarse. "Alright." Qiao Yan started toward the bathroom. A flicker of impatience went through me. I couldn't just let her walk away. I had to let her see. Let her see what her dear husband was hiding between his legs. Let her see him trembling with excitement for another woman. Now *that* would be thrilling. My hand deliberately knocked against the leg of the desk. *Thump.* Qiao Yan's footsteps halted just outside the bathroom door. Her sharp gaze shot toward the desk, right where I was hiding.