Chapter 3

I stared wide-eyed, hardly able to believe it.

Ethan wasn’t just secretly filming me—he was also stealing my intimate clothing.

I grabbed his suit jacket along with the lace panties and went to find him.

I wanted to see how he would explain this.

When I reached his door, it wasn’t fully closed.

I heard strange sounds coming from inside, and my name being called.

“Lily… Lily…”

The voice was deep, sexy, husky.

I instantly realized what he was doing.

I couldn’t resist peeking through the crack in the door.

Ethan was sunk deep into the sofa, shirt unbuttoned and open.

His skin flushed with a light pink sheen.

My face burned and my heart raced—I didn’t know whether to go in or not.

After hesitating for a while, I finally pushed the door open.

Ethan saw me and was startled for a split second.

Then, face still flushed, he hurriedly paused the video.

When he turned to look at me, his usual calm, restrained, almost ascetic expression was back in place.

He slowly buttoned his shirt back up perfectly neat.

There wasn’t the slightest trace of shame or panic at being caught.

“Why didn’t you knock before coming in?” His voice was calm and low.

Completely different from how he’d sounded moments ago.

“The door wasn’t closed. What were you watching just now? I want to see too.”

“Nothing. Just a movie.”

“I heard the sounds. It definitely wasn’t a normal movie. Let me watch and learn from it.”

“No. It’s not something you should see.”

I held the lace panties out in front of him.

“Then is this something you should be carrying around in your pocket? If I’m not mistaken, these are mine.”

Ethan’s face remained expressionless.

“You washed them and they fell on the floor. I picked them up intending to return them to you. Since you’ve seen them, just take them.”

“Return them? Then why carry them in your pocket all the time? Besides stealing my underwear, have you stolen anything else?”

Ethan lowered his gaze to the floor.

“Lily, don’t make trouble out of nothing. I didn’t steal them.”

“You didn’t steal them, but you looked at them. These are a girl’s private things. So what’s wrong with me watching a video with you? I can learn from it—might come in handy later.”

I sat down on Ethan’s bed, waiting for him to play it for me,

while slowly peeling off my stockings.

I’d heard men have zero resistance to black stockings.

Ethan averted his eyes without a word, then suddenly scooped me up and pushed me out the door.

I was so angry I wanted to kick the door down.

I’d already sat on his bed and started taking off my stockings, and he still didn’t react.

Yet he was willing to get hard watching videos of me.

Was the problem with me, or with him?

I stared at the closed door and seriously started doubting myself.

…

Ethan and I grew up as childhood sweethearts.

He helped me chase after so many guys.

Only after breaking up with Jake did I realize that over all these years, while the people around me kept changing, Ethan was the only one who never left.

I wasn’t sure what his feelings for me were.

So I told him about my breakup with Jake, wanting to test his reaction.

When he heard Jake had cheated on me,

he offered to cooperate and pretend to be my boyfriend to make Jake jealous—

to make Jake realize my value and come back to win me over.

I was furious that he wanted me to reconcile with another man.

But I still agreed to his plan.

Fake couple turning real isn’t impossible, right?

In front of Jake, Ethan would hold my hand while walking, feed me food, wipe my mouth, even kiss the corner of my lips.

The kind of nervous excitement I felt with him was something I’d never experienced with any other man.

I found the feeling fresh and assumed Ethan liked me too.

But the moment Jake was out of sight, he would immediately let go of me, put distance between us, and apologize.

His tone was so sincere—it didn’t look like he had any improper thoughts toward me at all.

Finally I couldn’t hold back anymore. I asked him to drink with me, planning to confess while drunk.

I’d never been timid in front of other men.

But with Ethan it was different—I was terrified of rejection.

In the heat of the moment I kissed him, and he kissed me back.

His voice was hoarse when he said, “I’m sorry.”

Then he pressed me down onto the bed.

The next day he insisted on taking responsibility, so we got married.

After marriage, he treated me very well.

He came home early from work.

Grocery shopping and cooking were all on him.

Whatever I wanted, he bought it.

Even things I only glanced at twice and didn’t plan to buy would eventually appear at home.

You could say he was extremely good to me.

Except he refused to have sex with me. Not even the most basic hugs or kisses.