Sharon Ainsworth’s phone suddenly rang. She glanced at it and waved at Nicholas Ainsworth. "Alright, Bro, go on inside. I have to take this call."

After answering, she whispered, "Why are you calling again?"

"I was drinking with your agency’s boss last night," came Quincy’s voice. "He mentioned you’re great in bed. You’ve been with him for a while, haven’t you? How much? I’ll keep you."

Sharon Ainsworth snorted. "He’s the one who told you that?"

"Of course. I really want to see for myself. If you can be with him, why not with me? I’ll pay you just the same. What do you say? If you’re willing, I’ll transfer the money now. Come over tonight."

Sharon Ainsworth’s expression immediately hardened. "My price is quite high. Can you afford it?"

Quincy was even more blunt. "You’re not exactly fresh, are you? And you’re still talking about a high price? I can afford it, but are you worth it?"

Sharon Ainsworth gritted her teeth. "Even so, I’m a high-class item. The price is higher."

"How high could it be? Two million a month. Take it or leave it."

Sharon Ainsworth thought for a moment. "Fine," she said. "I’ll be there tonight. Just give me the address."

She hung up the phone with a snort, then turned and went upstairs to pick out an outfit.

To her, there was no difference between Quincy and her boss. They were both fat, piggish men—cut from the same cloth.

She went upstairs, soaked in the bath for a good two hours, then selected an outfit. Finally, she sat down at her vanity and applied heavy, glamorous makeup.

With her makeup finished, she sat downstairs watching television.

She sat there until six o’clock.

Six o’clock on a winter evening always marked the descent into a pitch-black world.

Dim and lightless.

She drove to the agreed-upon location.

A private room in the VIP section of "Lips Desire."

Pushing open the door, she saw him sitting there.

Sharon Ainsworth closed the door and smiled. "You’re here early."

Quincy stood up and moved closer to her. "You’ve been refusing to see me, only taking my calls. Still traumatized by what happened in this room last time?"

Sharon Ainsworth admitted it. "I was so innocent back then, so scared. You wouldn’t understand. Besides, didn’t you get your own comeuppance later?"

"That’s because you were being a bitch and tried to frame my cousin. Who can you blame but your own dumb ass?"

Quincy tossed his cigarette butt aside and flicked off the lights.

That night, Ethan Ellsworth and Chloe Marshall lay peacefully together.

He held her, the two of them nestled closely together.

The night passed peacefully. In the morning, he bought breakfast and set it on the nightstand. He smiled, watching her burrowed under the covers. "I’m going to a charity event today. You just rest up at home, okay? I should be back this afternoon."

Chloe Marshall nodded. "I’ll be here waiting for you."

"Great. When I get back, we can go out and unwind."

He had only been gone a short while when the doorbell rang. Thinking it was Ethan Ellsworth returning, Chloe Marshall hurriedly put on her pajamas and went to get the door.

Seeing the strange, burly men standing there, she became guarded. "Who are you looking for?"

"You."

As the four men advanced, Chloe Marshall tried to shut the door, but it was too late. She had no choice but to make the first move, taking down two of them with a single kick.

"FUCK! She actually knows some martial arts!"

The remaining two lunged forward. Chloe Marshall screamed, "Zeke!"

Little did she know, Zeke Marshall had gone downstairs to get breakfast and wasn’t home.

Although Chloe Marshall was a skilled fighter, she was no match for a coordinated attack from four equally well-trained and burly men.

She was in her pajamas, which restricted her movements and made it difficult to raise her legs.

It was inevitable that she would eventually be captured.

"Who are you?!"

"Who we are doesn’t matter. What you should be asking is who you pissed off! Behave yourself. Otherwise, if you get hurt, don’t blame us for not knowing how to treat a lady."

Just as he finished speaking, two of them slapped a piece of duct tape over her mouth.

Her hands were restrained with handcuffs, and her feet were tied.

They stuffed her into a burlap sack.

Then, they brazenly stuffed the sack into a large trunk, closed the apartment door, and entered the elevator.

As Zeke Marshall was returning from the breakfast place, he reached the building entrance and saw four burly men carrying a large trunk. He eyed them suspiciously, noticing a slight movement inside it.

He watched them, feeling that something was wrong.

He went upstairs and knocked on his sister’s door, but no one answered.

’That’s odd. Boss Ellsworth just said Sis wasn’t even out of bed yet,’ he muttered to himself. Then he yelled, "Sis! Hurry up and open the door!"

Still no sound.

Zeke Marshall yelled again, then went to his place, grabbed the spare key, and opened the door.

The messy state of the living room aroused his suspicion. He pushed open the bedroom door. It was empty.

"Sis?"

He pulled out his phone to call her, only to see her cell phone lying on the bedroom table.

The image of those burly men flashed in Zeke Marshall’s mind. He broke into a sprint, dashing downstairs while pulling out his phone to call Ethan Ellsworth. "Boss Ellsworth, my sister isn’t home! When I was coming back just now, I saw a few huge guys carrying a big trunk... could it be—" He couldn’t bring himself to say the rest.

Hearing this, Ethan Ellsworth immediately U-turned and headed back. "Go to the security office and pull the surveillance footage! I’m coming back right now!"

Zeke Marshall did as instructed and pulled up the footage. He saw that from the moment Ethan Ellsworth left the building, there was no sign of his sister anywhere. He called the police at once.

When Ethan Ellsworth got back, the police were already there. After watching the surveillance video, they immediately established a special task force.

Ethan Ellsworth went back to the apartment and saw the living room was a total wreck—the clear aftermath of a struggle. He checked her closet; all her clothes were there except for her pajamas. ’That means Chloe was wearing them when it happened.’

They reviewed the surveillance footage multiple times but couldn’t identify which gang the men belonged to, as their bodies were completely covered.

Using cameras outside the residential complex, the police traced them to the vicinity of an open field, where the trail vanished.

It was as if they had vanished into thin air.

Since the sea was right there, they concluded that the culprits must have escaped by boat.

When Mrs. Ellsworth heard what had happened, she remained very calm and summoned Ethan Ellsworth home.

"For something like this to happen right now, I can’t help but suspect Jean. Have the police check her phone records and the IP addresses of her online contacts."

Ethan Ellsworth nodded, his mind a complete mess.

"I’ll give the police this lead so they can identify the mastermind."

"Ellsworth!" Mrs. Ellsworth called out to him. "If it really is her, will you show her mercy?"

Ethan Ellsworth looked back at her. "I don’t know. All I know is that I will not spare the person responsible for hurting someone I care about, no matter who it is."

"Good," Mrs. Ellsworth said, her brow furrowed. "Son, find Chloe. And stop hiding your relationship. It’s time for you two to get married. Bring her home." She added, "An obsessed woman is always more ruthless than a cruel man."

"Okay."

Ethan Ellsworth went to the police station and requested an investigation into Jean Grant’s call history, stating she was the prime suspect.

After hearing his reasoning, the police covertly pulled Jean Grant’s bank account statements and call records.

It didn’t take long for them to discover evidence that implicated Jean Grant.