The Harrison and Windsor families married for business convenience.
Brandon was bold, but not bold enough to openly cheat in front of Kimberly—especially involving his male ego.
After a moment, he guessed: “You and Kimberly… not on good terms?”

“We used to be close. Now… she probably wishes I were dead.”
But Kimberly brought me home the day after her wedding. Brandon's eyes gleamed.
At breakfast, Kimberly looked terrible.
I innocently asked: “Kim, didn't sleep well? Ah, newlyweds.”
The color drained completely from her face as the memory of that night surfaced. She stared at me, her eyes a mix of raw fear and simmering hatred.
Seeing this, Brandon decided I had leverage over her. His gaze grew bolder, sticking to me.

When Brandon left, Kimberly hissed: “Lee Yung! What do you want? Stay away from my husband!”
I laughed: “Kim, if your eyes don't work, get them checked. I wasn't the one who started it.”
She bit her lip until it bled: “Lee Yung, what do you want? You've had your revenge—let me go!”
“I'll pay you! Windsor shares! Just leave!”

I studied her desperate expression. she was serious.
Brandon meant more to her than I thought.
I looked forward to tonight even more.
Brandon arrived freshly showered, his skin smelling of cologne.
When I pushed him, he willingly fell onto the bed.
Then he flipped over, looking back at me.
I laughed.
When the old man couldn't perform, he loved watching “toys” put on shows. Thanks to my body, I “performed” the most.
In five years, I'd seen and experienced every way to please a man.
I used only 30% of my skills, and Brandon was already losing control.
I whispered in his ear: “Kimberly's right outside the door. Think she'll come in?”
He glanced at the door—under the gap, a shadow moved.
Kimberly was outside.
She didn't make a sound, didn't enter, didn't leave. Brandon wasn't a rule-follower anyway—being watched turned him on even more.
I used all my tricks.
He soon forgot about Kimberly outside.
When we finally fell asleep, dawn was breaking.
We woke around noon. Brandon walked out of my room openly.
Kimberly's eyes were red—from crying or sleeplessness.
She looked at Brandon, pain-filled: “Hubby, she seduced you, right?”
Brandon snorted: “You heard everything yesterday, didn't you?”
Her face went pale.
Brandon said: “Kimberly, this is a business marriage. Let's just do our own thing from now on.”
Then he sat down beside me at the table and gave me a possessive kiss before starting his meal.
Kimberly saw it all, tears streaming silently down her face.
She looked at me like she wanted to kill me—hatred twisted her face.
I felt cold inside.
She bullied me for over a decade, then sold me to a pervert, subjecting me to five years of living hell. Did she really think this was enough?
I'll return everything she did to me.
But after five years, Kimberly's methods hadn't changed.
A few nights later, I saw a familiar scene in the hotel garage.
I played along and let them take me, even cooperated when they drugged me.
I woke up in a derelict warehouse. I was tightly bound, surrounded by several men. One of them held up a phone, clearly recording everything.
Kimberly stood over me, triumphant: “Just like your mistress mom—all you know is seducing men!”
She raised her hand to slap me, but a man stopped her.
Kimberly stared in shock: “What? Feeling protective?”
Her fury erupted. “Lee Yung, you're something—seducing any man. After five years, you're thoroughly used!”
Then she ordered the men: “She's yours. Have fun!”
But no one moved.
Kimberly trembled: “I'll pay another 50k! Go!”
“Another 100k!”