Jack's perspective.

A sharp pain in his head woke Jack. He suddenly opened his eyes to find himself lying naked on the floor, an iron ball gag in his mouth, his hands cuffed to the table leg.


Fragments of memory and that woman's face flooded back—her cunning eyes, coquettish voice, and that damned, strange-scented powder...

Jack gritted his teeth in anger. He tried to sit up, but his hands were bound, making it impossible to move. This feeling of being at someone's mercy—especially that woman's—made the rage in his chest nearly

explode.


He struggled to spit out the gag and shouted toward the door, "Harvey!"

Hearing the call, butler Harvey immediately opened the door, only to see his master lying naked on the floor, covered in suggestive red marks and... several clear scratch marks, looking completely disheveled. He froze in shock.


Jack's face darkened to a thundercloud, "Unlock these now!"

"Oh, right." Harvey suppressed his shock, fumbled around, found a thin needle, crouched down, and carefully unlocked the handcuffs for Jack. "Sir, I didn't expect you to have such... preferences. Don't worry, I'll keep it confidential. Whatever floats your boat, sir, I understand completely."

"Shut up—" Jack, now free, hurriedly picked up his scattered clothes and put them on, wincing as the movement pulled at certain parts of his body.

The humiliation was overwhelming.

Dressed, he stood with a face like stone, his anger barely contained, his body slightly trembling: "Where is that woman—"

Harvey blinked, trying to recall what Diana looked like when she left, "She left."

"Left?" Jack was furious, his voice suddenly rising, "You just let her go?"

Harvey shrank back at his anger, nodding, "Yes, she came out and told me, 'Your master enjoyed himself very much today, but he's a bit tired, resting. He said not to disturb him.'" He imitated Diana's slightly hoarse and satisfied tone, only realizing afterward that something seemed off.

"Fuck!" Jack was enraged, slamming his fist hard on the heavy redwood desk, making a dull thud that startled Harvey.

Looking at his master's state, Harvey finally belatedly realized something was wrong. His eyes widened: "Sir, you weren't willing? Sir, were you—were you assaulted by that woman?!"

"Get the hell out!" Jack's anger had nowhere to vent. He pointed at the door, almost roaring.

Harvey was so frightened he turned to flee.

"Wait!" Jack took deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down, "Immediately! Find that woman! Bring her to me!"

Harvey quickly nodded, "Yes. Sir, alive or dead?"

"Alive!" Jack squeezed the words through his teeth, "I want to personally..."

"Yes." Harvey dared not ask more, hurriedly left the study, and gently closed the door.

The spacious study was finally left with only Jack.

He violently tugged at the collar that was making it difficult for him to breathe, trying to dispel the heat and humiliation. His gaze inadvertently fell on his reflection in the mirror-like glass window: disheveled hair, flushed cheeks, marks covering his neck and collarbone, all reminding him of what had just happened.

"Diana Evans," he stared at himself in the mirror, gritting his teeth, "you'd better pray you don't fall into my hands."

Damn it, this wasn't just a humiliating disgrace, it was also... it about his virginity!

At this thought, Jack's face involuntarily flushed red again.

He turned away irritably, pacing restlessly, his mind chaotically interweaving murderous intent and those uncontrollable, embarrassing fragments of memory.

Soon, Harvey returned, "Um, sir. We've located the tracker's position."

Jack brightened, "Where?"

Harvey timidly pointed at Jack's desk.

Jack's eyebrow twitched. He slowly turned his head and only then noticed a crumpled paper on the desk. He grabbed the paper ball, unfolded it, and found the tracker wrapped inside.

Written on the paper was a single line: "Thanks for the hospitality."