Chapter 2

Ethan’s hands froze instantly in midair.

His expression turned rigid. Assuming he was annoyed and not wanting to ruin the mood—after all, a little sensory play wasn't a crime—I quickly compromised.

"Alright, alright. Put it on."

With that, Ethan tied the lace securely over my eyes.

The darkness only heightened the sensitivity of my bare skin.

Ethan leaned down, peppering kisses across my forehead, my nose, my lips, and down my neck, slowly trailing lower.

My mind began to feel heavy and clouded, though not quite as numb and hazy as previous nights.

Suddenly, the heat on top of me vanished. The fog in my head left me only able to whimper in mild protest.

"Be a good girl. I'm going to grab a condom. Wait for me."

Hearing his familiar voice, I relaxed into the mattress.

A moment later, a heavy, warm body pressed back down against mine.

I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, bracing myself as the rhythm grew faster and more demanding.

My hands wandered across his back, and suddenly, my fingertips brushed against a distinct scar. It wasn't long, maybe two or three inches.

A lightning bolt of clarity shot through my mind: Ethan had never had a scar on his back…

I instinctively reached up to tear the blindfold off.

Before my fingers could touch the fabric, my wrists were pinned firmly above my head.

With a final, trembling shudder, the man on top of me pulled away and stood up.

Catching my breath, I reached up and pulled the blindfold down. The first thing I saw was Ethan standing near the bed, his face completely drained of color.

Seeing me move, terror flashed across his eyes, his voice trembling slightly. "You're... you're awake?"

Afraid he thought I was complaining about his stamina, I murmured softly, "I'm just so tired. So sleepy. I want to sleep."

I reached out, hugging him playfully.

Ethan grabbed a warm washcloth. "Here, let me clean you up."

I kissed his cheek. "Okay."

Afterward, Ethan brought another cup of milk to the bedside. "Drink this, sweetie. It'll restore your energy."

I was genuinely parched, and having done this every night, I suspected nothing. "Thanks, honey."

After finishing it, a heavy drowsiness dragged me under, and I fell fast asleep.

Once I was out, Ethan slipped into the hallway stairwell to make a phone call.

"Ten times! That's more than enough! You promised me, and you better deliver. Next week, I want the official announcement that I'm the new branch manager."

Ethan's face was flushed with fury, his eyes bloodshot, his fingernails digging so hard into the concrete wall that his knuckles turned white.

On the other end of the line, a man chuckled softly. "Ethan, my boy, you really are a lucky man. Your wife is stunning, and so incredibly soft. What can I say? I'm hooked."

Ethan's eyes widened in disbelief. "What the hell do you mean?!"

"I mean, I want one more night. One last time, and I guarantee your branch manager position."

Appalled by the man's sheer shamelessness, Ethan's face contorted into a monstrous scowl, his voice a furious hiss.

"No way in hell! Vance, I let you screw my own wife ten times! I swear to God, I want to kill you!"

Vance didn't seem fazed by his rage at all. His tone was dripping with calculated control.

"One last time, and I'll make you the Finance Director at the corporate headquarters instead. How about that?"

Ethan's rage evaporated in an instant. A stunned, greedy disbelief washed over him.

"Really? Corporate Director is leagues above a branch manager!"

"Of course."

Ethan didn't hesitate for a single second. "Fine! Tomorrow night!"

He hung up, the bitter resentment in his eyes completely replaced by euphoric ambition. There wasn't a shred of guilt left on his face.

Naturally, he never noticed me standing behind the corner of the stairwell wall—paralyzed as if struck by lightning, trembling in sheer agony, clutching both hands tightly over my mouth to stifle my screams…