The party ended.

Brandon and Chloe fumbled their way into the car, tumbling into the back seat.

The driver, unfazed, raised the partition and started the engine.

Brandon leaned his face close to Chloe’s, his liquor-laced breath hot on her skin. Chloe giggled, turning her head slightly, then pecked him on the cheek. "You drank so much."

His voice softened, sounding sweet and innocent, like a little boy. "Don't you dare be disgusted with me!"

Chloe laughed, pulling Brandon’s collar, and bringing her own lips to his.

What followed was a long, suffocating kiss.

Suddenly, the air felt stifling, so I passed through the car and sat on the roof, watching their intimate dance, the summer night wind doing nothing to warm my cold spirit.

Acting all sweet and vulnerable.

That was the kind of man Chloe disliked the most.

In the past, when I occasionally showed her weakness or dependence, she would only say, "Real men act like real men; don't be like that, it just gave me the creeps."

When I snapped back to reality, they had already arrived at their destination.

As they walked into the villa, an invisible force pulled me along, making me follow them inside.

Chloe kicked off her heels casually near the shoe rack, then poured herself a glass of hot water.

Brandon followed closely, wrapping his arms around her slender waist.

"Chloe, I'm scared…"

Scared?

Not just Chloe, even I looked at him, completely astonished.

From the moment I’d known him, I’d never heard him say the word "scared" or seen any hint of fear in his actions.

Chloe turned around, her top, pulled down by the hot weather, revealing a generous view of her cleavage.

"Scared of what?"

Chloe pressed herself against him, letting Brandon pull down the zipper on the back of her dress.

"Scared Ethan will back out."

"Scared you won't want me."

"Scared I won't truly have you."

Chloe replied without hesitation, "No way, Ethan won't back out."