Chapter 1

My Husband's Bestie Wants to "Unlock" Him on Our Wedding Night

On our wedding night, my husband, Ryan Peterson, knelt before me in his pristine suit, begging me for just one thing.

He wanted me to call his female best friend, Blair Hayes, who he’d practically grown up with, claiming only she could "unlock" him.

Only then, he insisted, could we truly be together.

His eyes were bloodshot, his handsome face etched with pleading, as if *I* were the villain destroying their sacred bond.

I stared at him, and a bitter laugh bubbled up.

Before the wedding, Blair had said, half-joking, in front of everyone:

"Chloe, Ryan’s first time was actually mine. Hope you don't mind, sweetie."

Back then, I thought it was just a joke. Now, it seems I was just incredibly naive.

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"Chloe, please, just this once. After this, I’ll do anything you say."

Ryan was on his knees on our million-dollar wedding bed, clutching my hand.

His grip was so tight it felt like he was trying to crush my bones. His handsome face was slick with sweat.

His eyes held no desire, only a desperate, almost broken plea.

We had just finished our wedding, the guests' blessings still echoing in my ears.

But in our meticulously decorated bridal suite, the atmosphere was colder than a freezer.

"Ryan, say that again."

I wrenched my hand free, my voice low but dripping with ice.

He seemed to miss the danger in my tone, instead clinging to it like a lifeline, repeating urgently:

"Chloe, please call Blair. She said she has a way… she said she can help me 'unlock' myself. You know, I… I’m a little nervous, and I don't want our first time to be anything less than perfect."

"Unlock?"

I chewed on the word, finding it both absurd and utterly disgusting.

"Unlock what? Ryan, are you losing your mind or am I hearing things? Tonight is our wedding night!"

"It's a psychological lock!"

He was sweating profusely, agitated.

"I… I have a bit of a psychological block, and only Blair can guide me through it! Chloe, we’ve been together for years, how can you bear to see me like this?"

Looking at him, a chilling dread seeped into my bones, shooting straight up to my scalp.

We were college sweethearts, together for five years.

He was the universally acclaimed model boyfriend – gentle, attentive, from a wealthy family, almost always accommodating to my every whim.

The only exception was Blair.

Blair was his childhood bestie, a woman who lived by her own rules, more unrestrained than most men.

She knew her way around a cigarette and a shot glass, and always had guys wrapped around her finger.

Ryan always claimed his friendship with Blair was pure, closer than siblings.

I used to believe him.

Until that bachelorette party before the wedding.

Blair got drunk, drunkenly slung an arm around my neck and said, half-joking, half-serious:

"Chloe, Ryan’s first time was actually mine. We were just experimenting back then, hope you don't mind."

My friends all thought it was a joke. Even Ryan just laughed it off, patting her on the back and saying she was drunk and talking nonsense.

But that comment had lodged itself deep in my mind, a tiny, annoying thorn.

Now, that thorn wasn't just lodged there; it was churning wildly, tearing me apart from the inside.

"So, what you're saying is, without Blair, you can't touch me tonight? Is that it?"

I stared into his eyes, enunciating each word slowly.

Ryan evaded my gaze, his lips moving for what felt like an eternity before he finally whimpered:

"Chloe, it’s not what you think! Just help me out this once, okay?"

Help him?

I was trembling with rage, reaching for the red wine glass on the table, ready to splash it across his handsome face.

But before I could even move, the doorbell chimed, sharp and sudden.

Ryan’s eyes lit up, as if he’d heard the sweetest sound. He scrambled off the bed and rushed to open the door.

"Blair, you finally came!"

Standing outside was indeed Blair.

She was clad in a tight black leather outfit, accentuating her fierce figure.

A slender lady’s cigarette dangled from her lips, its crimson glow flickering at her fingertips.

She didn't even look at Ryan. Her gaze swept past him and landed squarely on me.

That look, it was as if she was seeing a loser who had dared to take her place.

She took the cigarette from her mouth, slowly blew a smoke ring towards Ryan’s face, her voice languid and intimate.

"What, can't manage without me?"

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