Chapter 13

Anderson multitasked, verbally engaging with his wife while his eyes remained fixed on the young woman emerging from the bathroom. Before Sophia could speak, he raised a finger to his lips, signaling her to remain silent.

Sophia pursed her lips, puffed her cheeks, and cast him a resentful, coquettish glance. That look, both alluring and charming, caused Anderson's mind to wander. He glanced down; the woman, fresh from the bath, was clad in a seductive nightgown, the sheer fabric barely concealing her curves. Her face, innocent yet her body, tantalizing, reminded him of Emily just after she graduated from college years ago.

Anderson crooked his middle finger, and though Sophia appeared reluctant, she quickly approached the bed, slipping off her shoes and obediently lying beside him. Anderson gently massaged her shoulders, contemplating a way to end his "report" to his wife, but Emily suddenly called out, "Honey… since you're home now, shall we video call?"

Anderson froze, and the woman in his arms trembled violently, her hand, which had been teasing his flaccid member, halted.

"...Now?" Anderson quickly fabricated an excuse, "Not right now, someone just messaged me about a work issue. Can we do it later?"

Upon hearing this, Sophia sat up abruptly, glaring at him with wide eyes. She scratched his chest in silent protest, her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish trapped in a bowl.

Anderson grasped her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it as a means of appeasement, while also reassuring his wife, "I'll message you later when I'm done, okay?"

The next moment, he heard Emily gasp on the other end of the line.

"Emily?"

"Mm, mm… just yawning. I'm a bit tired, it's been a long day. I might be asleep by the time you message…"

"It's okay, you should rest."

"Alright, you go ahead and work. If I'm still awake, I'll reply. Don't overwork yourself, good night…"

"Good n—"

The word "night" stuck in his throat as Anderson stared at the phone, now disconnected, in a daze.

Sophia pounced on him, threatening, "You dare video call her? Aren't you afraid I'll suddenly expose a leg or an arm for her to see?"

Unperturbed, Anderson swatted her bottom, "Not adding that line would arouse suspicion."

Sophia pouted, feeling wronged and unbalanced, yet she wasn't foolish enough to start an argument over this now.

"You promised these three days would be mine…" Sophia's arms encircled his neck, her pert breasts brushing against his chest through the thin fabric as she called him "husband" sweetly.

Anderson reveled in Sophia's brazenness; she was even more proactive than Amanda and wholly devoted to him. Amanda harbored feelings for another man, treating their relationship as a mere dalliance, fulfilling mutual needs. In contrast, Sophia's unabashed admiration and love brought him immense satisfaction.

His desire rekindled, Anderson pushed thoughts of Emily hastily ending their call aside, losing himself in a fervent kiss with Sophia.

Across the street in the apartment, the light flickered, but the position of the couple on the bed had shifted.

Emily lay beneath Michael, her voice reduced to fragmented murmurs, melding with the elevated heat, becoming thick syrup that seeped from within. During her call with Anderson, Michael had continued his movements, but when she suggested a video call, he had abruptly gripped her waist and thrust upward with such force that she gasped, biting her lip to stifle her moan.

Pleasure quickly spread throughout her body, but the psychological thrill was even more intense. As the call continued, Michael had laid her down on the bed, his relentless thrusts shaking her, prompting Emily to hastily end the call, fearing she couldn't suppress her moans.

With each thrust, Michael withdrew fully before plunging back in, the sound of flesh against flesh resounding in the room. Though he remained silent, the sweat dripping from his temple betrayed his outward composure. The beast unleashed, driven mad by the sweet scent, burrowed deeper into her wet depths.

"You, you need to slow down—I can't—"

Emily couldn't form a complete sentence, soon reduced to incoherent whimpers. Tears of ecstasy streamed down, shackles falling away one by one. Surrendering to her body's desires, she reached out for Michael's embrace.

The sturdy guesthouse bed creaked under Michael's vigorous movements. Her discarded phone, pushed to the edge of the mattress, wobbled before finally tumbling off.

With a sharp "crack," the phone hit the floor, but the sound was drowned out by Emily's climactic scream. Michael gritted his teeth, holding back his release until her orgasm subsided, then slowly withdrew.

The bed was soaked, and Michael chuckled softly, "Look, you've made a mess."

Emily, still catching her breath, could only muster a feeble glare, the aftershocks of her intense orgasm leaving her too exhausted to speak. She soon drifted into a fitful sleep, her dreams chaotic and fragmented.

In one dream, she attacked Sophia in an office building, only to have Sophia pull her hair in retaliation. In another, she discovered numerous insurance policies at home, all taken out by Anderson for her. Yet another dream had Amanda visiting her, handing her a wedding invitation, saying she was marrying Michael and telling Emily to "arrive early"...

Emily jolted awake from her dream.

"Awake?" Michael, still up, was leaning against the headboard, reviewing footage on his camera.

"Hmm... what time is it?" Emily, now more alert, pulled the blanket up to cover her exposed chest. Her voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.

Michael checked his phone. "Nine o'clock. You've only been asleep for half an hour. Go back to sleep."

Emily shook her head. "I'm thirsty..."

Michael handed her the bottle of mineral water from the bedside table. "Sit up to drink."

Emily tried to prop herself up, but her elbows buckled, causing her to fall back onto the bed. Michael chuckled and helped her sit up.

Emily, extremely parched, drank several gulps before feeling better.

"Are you hungry?" Michael asked.

Emily pulled the blanket higher, whispering coyly, "What kind of hungry?"

Michael raised an eyebrow. "Either way, I can satisfy you."

Feeling a blush rise, Emily scratched her ear and grabbed the camera to change the subject. "What did you record later?"

Suddenly remembering, she exclaimed, "My glasses!"

Michael handed her the black-framed glasses from the bedside. "The part in the kitchen lasted about five minutes before they left. But later, the woman came back alone. The camera's battery is low. If you want to record more tonight, you'll need to change it."

Emily quickly skimmed through the video.

Muttering to herself, she said, "This kind of evidence... if it comes to a divorce lawsuit, it should be enough, right?"

"With what you've collected so far, including today's footage, yes. I got the lawyer's contact info and forwarded it to you. If you're unsure how to proceed, I can help you consult them. I've dealt with them before because of my sister."

Emily blinked slowly, lifting her head to ask, "If they ask about our relationship, what will you say?"

Michael paused with the water bottle at his lips. After a moment, he hesitantly replied, "Friends?"

Friends who occasionally share a bed in passion?

Emily took a sip from the same bottle, her eyes on Michael. His lips were full and soft, making kissing him enjoyable.

Reaching for the phone that had fallen beside her pillow, Emily sent a friend request to the lawyer, explaining her situation.

Michael, having finished his water, still lounged against the headboard, his gaze fixed on Emily's bare back, bathed in the warm glow from the streetlights outside. The light added a fiery hue, stoking a fire within him. He rested an arm on the pillow behind her, his finger lightly tracing her waist.

Emily shivered, goosebumps rising immediately. "What are you doing? It tickles!" she protested, frowning.

"I know," Michael smiled, "I discovered recently that even a slight touch makes you—"

"Stop," Emily blushed, hitting his arm, "Don't say it."

Even she hadn't known until tonight that tickling could feel so good.

Michael brushed her hair aside. "Has he contacted you?"

Emily, knees drawn to her chest under the blanket, rested her chin on them. "No. He's probably still 'busy.'"

Michael added, "While you were asleep, I called Amanda."

"Did you discuss anything?"

"I reported my 'activities' today and asked what she did in the afternoon. She said she had cramps and went home to rest after shopping with friends."

"Oh."

Michael idly played with her hair. "So, are you planning to stay here and keep watching the apartment across the street?"

Emily shook her head immediately. "No. As you said, there's enough evidence now. I need time to process it all. I plan to compile the photos, recordings, and videos into one concise presentation for negotiations."

"Good idea," Michael agreed.

Pushing her glasses up, Emily continued, "Then I want to go home."

Michael frowned. "Home? Across the street?"

"Of course not. I want to visit my hometown and inform my family of my decision."

Tilting her head, she looked at him. "If you have nowhere to go, do you want to come with me?"