Seraphina Quinn lowered her head, helpless and heartbroken.
At that moment, Quincy Sterling gave Harold Sharp's two bodyguards a look, and they quickly advanced on Seraphina Quinn.
Seraphina Quinn had no strength left to fight back. Her vision went black, and she passed out completely.
When she awoke again, it was already noon the next day.
Inside an incredibly luxurious private mansion, she lay on a large, dark blue bed. Her black hair fanned out across the pillow, framing her delicate and lovely face.
Her entire body ached as if it were about to split open. Her neck, limbs, chest… From top to bottom, inside and out, she was so sore that even lifting a finger was an effort.
'What happened to me?'
'What exactly went on?'
'Did Harold Sharp… actually get his way?'
"Heavens, you're… you're finally awake?"
Harold Sharp's agitated voice cut through the air.
When Seraphina Quinn's eyes focused on Harold Sharp's old face, her entire body trembled violently.
Eyes bloodshot with disbelief, she glared at Harold Sharp.
Her fingers clutched the blanket tightly, trying to cover her completely naked body hidden beneath the covers.
Her voice, ragged with rage, broke. "Harold Sharp, you animal! I'm going to call the police and have you arrested—"
"Shouting so loudly. Seems like you're not in any real danger."
A man's deep, indifferent voice drifted from the direction of the floor-to-ceiling windows.
'That voice…'
Seraphina Quinn looked up, her bloodshot eyes following the sound.
Standing by the window was a man wearing only a black silk robe.
He turned around, a half-smoked cigarette between his fingers. Through the thin veil of smoke, his handsome face seemed almost unreal.
The man tilted his chin at her and said, half-joking, half-serious:
"Miss Quinn, staring at me like that? Don't tell me you're narcissistic enough to think the man who had you all night was me?"
Seraphina Quinn's heart clenched, and the color drained from her face instantly.
She opened her mouth, but her throat was sore. After swallowing a few times in silence, she finally spoke slowly, "Damian Fairchild…"
The man strode over to her, flicked the ash from his cigarette, and a sarcastic smile touched his thin lips.
"How considerate of Miss Quinn. After five years, you actually still remember me… your poor, pathetic ex-husband."
A knot formed in Seraphina Quinn's chest, and her eyes grew red and moist. "I never forgot… you…" 'And I never could.'
The man looked down at her, letting out a soft laugh.
"Miss Quinn, back then you threw me out like a dog. What do you think a vindictive man like me would do to you?"
Seraphina Quinn's heart tightened, her voice growing fragile. "…You hate me?"
"Hate? Miss Quinn, you really think too highly of yourself."
The man chuckled softly. His voice was gentle and lingering, almost affectionate, but the words that followed were as sharp as a knife.
"I've just been a bit idle lately and was looking for some little thing to pass the lonely, boring time."
He paused. "Unfortunately for you, you happened to walk right into my sights. So when I remembered how you threw me away like trash back then, I couldn't help but want to teach you a lesson."
Seraphina Quinn's fingers curled into fists, tears welling in her eyes. "No matter how you put it, you still want revenge on me…"
Damian Fairchild took a final drag of his cigarette. As he was about to look for an ashtray to stub it out, his gaze inadvertently fell on the cowering Harold Sharp.
Harold Sharp felt his gaze and couldn't help but tremble. "Mr.… Mr. Fairchild, what… what are your orders?"
Damian Fairchild's thin lips curled.
"How did you become the second-in-command at Cathay Bank? How can you be so dense?"
As soon as he said that, Harold Sharp scrambled to find an ashtray and held it up respectfully before him, but the man just smiled at him and said:
"Did I say I wanted an ashtray?"
Harold Sharp broke out in a cold sweat. "Then you…"
The man chuckled. "That's a nicely shaved bald head you have there!"
As Damian Fairchild's words faded, a scream like a slaughtered pig echoed through the air from Harold Sharp.
"Too loud."
"Scream again and I'll cut out your tongue!"
With a THUD, Harold Sharp dropped to his knees, begging for mercy through the pain.
"Mr. Fairchild… Please be merciful. I really didn't know that Miss… Miss Quinn was your ex-wife. If I had known, I wouldn't have dared to touch her even if you gave me a hundred times the courage…"
"Her face. Did you hit her?"
Harold Sharp's face went deathly pale, and his body began to tremble uncontrollably.
"Mr. Fairchild… I have a family to support, elders and children… I'm begging you, please be merciful…"
Damian Fairchild casually tossed the extinguished cigarette butt into a nearby trash can from a distance and said in a measured tone:
"Don't be nervous. At most, it'll just be a ruined hand."
Harold Sharp's pupils contracted in terror. "Mr. Fairchild…"
"What? Would you rather do prison time? How many years do you get for drugging and raping a decent woman?"
The moment Harold Sharp heard about prison, his heart hardened. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed the ashtray and smashed it violently down onto his own left hand.
Only when his entire left palm was a bloody, mangled mess did Damian Fairchild call a halt. "You can get lost now."
After Harold Sharp scrambled away, Damian Fairchild's gaze finally returned to the extremely pale Seraphina Quinn.
"Miss Quinn, do you have some misunderstanding of what revenge is? I let you lie on my private, custom-made bed that costs hundreds of thousands, and you call that revenge?"
"Pay attention. What just happened to Harold Sharp, *that's* called revenge. Understand?"
Seraphina Quinn was on the verge of breaking down, tears streaming from her eyes. "What is it you really want?"
Damian Fairchild knelt on the bed with one knee. He reached out, gently wiping away the tears from below her eyes, still smiling.
"Miss Quinn, there are many ways to deal with a woman. For an arrogant, high-and-mighty young lady like you used to be, the best way to handle you is on a bed, right after your family has been ruined and destroyed."
Seraphina Quinn's eyes widened in disbelief. "You wouldn't dare! I'll accuse you of rape…"
A short, disdainful laugh rumbled from deep within the man's chest. He looked at her with a smile.
"Miss Quinn, for you to say that now… does that do justice to all the wetness you left on my bed last night?"
Seraphina Quinn couldn't remember anything that happened after she passed out last night.
But she wasn't some naive girl. The intense discomfort in her body was a constant reminder of what had happened the previous night.
'Damian Fairchild must have kicked me while I was down, taking advantage of me when the drug took effect and I lost control.'
"I was drugged last night. What happened after… I can barely remember…"
Damian Fairchild unhurriedly took out his phone and held it in front of her.
"It's fine. I was afraid you'd try to deny it, so I recorded everything for you."
As he spoke, Damian Fairchild pressed the play button on the video.
Soon, along with the steamy images on the phone, Seraphina Quinn heard her own wanton voice begging for pleasure.
"Damian, I… I miss you so much…"
"Where do you miss me?" the man chuckled.
Her voice, filled with unbearable desire, was mixed with soft sobs.
"Everywhere… I must be dreaming… Kiss me, hold me… I ache so much here. Help me press it, touch it, please?"
"…"
More and more indecent sounds followed, causing Seraphina Quinn's face to flush to the deepest shade of crimson with shame.