Adrian's boots struck stone as he moved through Thornhaven Manor's gardens, retracing the path Amanda had taken with that gigolo.

His mind still churned with satisfying certainty... Catherine begging at his door tonight, his father's grudging praise, Amanda learning exactly what happened when you dismissed a Blackwell heir.

'Just checking where they went.'

'Making sure that man understands his place before I have him thrown out.'

The pathway curved ahead, winding toward the private areas where Catherine conducted her most discreet business. Restricted spaces that even Adrian technically shouldn't enter without permission.

But tonight, everything would change.

Tonight, Catherine would be his.

Tonight, the rules shifted permanently in his favor.

Adrian reached the glass door that separated the main gardens from the private courtyard and pool area.

His hand moved toward the handle...

Then he heard it.

A sound.

Faint. Distant. Almost like a moan but sharper... more like a scream that had been cut off halfway.

Adrian froze, hand hovering inches from the glass.

'What...?'

The sound registered somewhere in his consciousness but didn't quite connect to anything concrete.

'Probably nothing. Wind through the architecture. Manor staff doing maintenance somewhere.'

'Or my imagination running wild because of tonight.'

He shook his head slightly, forcing himself to focus.

Stress. Just stress making me hear things that aren't there.

His hand touched the glass door handle, ready to push through and confirm the gigolo had already left...

The sounds came again.

Clearer this time.

Louder.

Unmistakable.

Moans.

Definitely moans.

Adrian's breath caught, Enhanced perception sharpening involuntarily despite his attempt to dismiss what he was hearing.

'Someone's...'

The sounds were explicit. Raw. The kind of noises that left absolutely no room for misinterpretation about what was happening.

'Someone's fucking in Catherine's private area?'

Confusion mixed with immediate anger.

'Who would dare?'

'Who would have the audacity to use Catherine Blackwood's restricted spaces for... for that?'

His mind raced, trying to place the sounds, trying to identify who could possibly be this bold.

Catherine?

The thought formed and died instantly.

Impossible.

She's probably still in her office calculating her options for tonight. Processing what I said. Realizing she has no choice but to come to me.

She wouldn't be...

No. Absolutely not.

Adrian dismissed it completely.

Amanda then?

That made more sense.

Amanda had led that gigolo somewhere into the manor. Maybe she'd decided to entertain him herself before sending him away. Maybe she'd brought him to one of the private spaces thinking no one would notice.

'That pervert.'

'Hidden behind that professional mask this whole time.'

'Using her position with Catherine to access restricted areas for her own pleasure.'

The contempt felt righteous. Justified.

But underneath it, curiosity gnawed at him.

'I should confirm who's violating Catherine's private space.'

'Should know exactly what's happening so I can report it properly.'

'Should...'

Adrian pushed through the glass door, moving into the restricted area with steps that tried to project authority but came out hesitant.

These spaces were Catherine's sanctuary. Her most private domain where even her personal guard wasn't supposed to enter without explicit permission.

But the sounds...

Someone's definitely in there.

Someone's using Catherine's space without authorization.

And I need to know who.

The justification felt thin, but Adrian didn't examine it too closely.

He moved forward, following the pathway that curved around carefully maintained hedges toward the pool area.

The sounds grew clearer with each step.

Moans. Gasps. The wet, rhythmic sounds of...

Adrian's jaw tightened.

Definitely sexual.

Definitely happening right now.

In Catherine's private courtyard.

He'd taken maybe a dozen steps when a loud scream rang out.

Not pain.

Definitely not pain.

Pure pleasure.

Raw, unrestrained, the kind of sound that spoke of complete abandon.

Adrian's cultivation base hummed involuntarily, his body responding to potential threat even as his mind struggled to process what he was hearing.

What the hell is going on?

He moved faster now, anger overriding caution, ready to catch whoever was desecrating Catherine's private space and throw them out personally.

The pathway opened into clear sight of the pool area.

And two figures came into view.

Adrian stopped dead.

A man.

Standing tall, posture relaxed and confident, utterly at ease.

And a woman.

On her knees between his legs, head bent forward, body curved in unmistakable submission.

What they were doing required no explanation whatsoever.

Adrian's hands clenched at his sides, rage spiking hot and immediate.

The sheer fucking audacity...

To do this here? In Catherine's most private space?

To violate the sanctity of House Blackwood's inner grounds for some... some sordid encounter?

But his mind caught on the more important question.

Who?

He shifted slightly, angle improving, details becoming clearer through the gap in the hedges.

The man's face came into focus first.

That gigolo.

Alex.

Recognition hit like cold water.

Of course it's him.

Of course Amanda brought him here and decided to use him before sending him away.

The assistant playing with her employer's guest in her employer's private courtyard.

The disrespect is...

Adrian's contempt crystallized into something sharp and vindictive.

Perfect.

Now I have legitimate cause to throw him out immediately.

Security violation. Trespassing in restricted areas. Desecrating Catherine's private space.

Father will approve of how decisively I handled this.

His eyes shifted to the woman, ready to confirm it was Amanda so he could drag them both out by their...

The woman's head lifted slightly, adjusting position, and dark hair fell across bare shoulders.

Dark hair.

Perfect, straight dark hair.

Adrian's breath caught.

That's... that's not Amanda's hair.

Amanda's hair was a bit longer. Nothing like...

The woman shifted again, turning fractionally, and more details came into focus.

Posture.

Even on her knees, even in that submissive position, the woman held herself with perfect grace.

No.

Adrian's cultivation base cracked, power surging outward in an uncontrolled wave.

That's not...

It can't be...

But the woman's profile was becoming clearer, and features Adrian had memorized over twelve months of devoted service were suddenly, impossibly visible.

The line of her jaw.

The slope of her neck.

The way she held her shoulders even bent forward like that.

Catherine.

The name formed in his mind but couldn't quite connect to the reality in front of him.

Catherine Blackwood.

On her knees.

In her own private courtyard.

Between that gigolo's legs.

With...

Adrian took an involuntary step forward, body moving on autopilot as his brain refused to process what his eyes were showing him.

The angle shifted.

Catherine's face came into full view.

And Adrian's entire world shattered.

Her features were unmistakable... brilliant, beautiful Catherine Blackwood with her perfect composure and untouchable authority.

Except...

Her face.

Oh God, her face.

Thick white streaks painted across her cheeks. Dripping down her chin. Glistening on her lips. Spattered across her chest where it had run down from her mouth.

Cum.

That man's cum.

That gigolo's cum covering Catherine Blackwood's face.

And her expression...

Not distress.

Not violation.

Not coercion or fear or any of the things that might have made this make sense.

Satisfaction.

Pure, genuine satisfaction.

Like she'd just accomplished something she was proud of.

Like she'd just won some victory that mattered.

Catherine's tongue darted out, licking her lips, tasting what covered them, and the gesture was deliberate. Savoring.

No.

Adrian's hands shook, cultivation base erupting in waves that made the air around him crack and shimmer.

This isn't real.

This is some trick. Some test. Some elaborate game to see if I'll break.

But Catherine's face was unmistakable.

And that expression—genuine pleasure, real satisfaction, actual devotion as she looked up at the man standing over her—destroyed something fundamental in Adrian's chest.

She was supposed to beg ME tonight.

The thought crashed through him with devastating force.

She was supposed to come to MY door.

She was supposed to apologize and submit and accept that she belongs to me.

Not... not this.

Not kneeling for someone else.

Not covered in another man's...

Adrian's vision narrowed, breath coming in short gasps as his mind tried desperately to reject what he was seeing.

The gigolo.

That fucking nobody I dismissed an hour ago.

That man I mocked as irrelevant.

HIM.

And Catherine—brilliant, untouchable Catherine who'd rejected Adrian for twelve months, who'd looked at him with pity in her office, who was supposed to realize tonight that she needed him—

She's on her knees for HIM.

Looking at HIM with devotion.

Covered in HIS...

The contrast was too much.

Every fantasy Adrian had constructed over the past hours crashed down simultaneously.

Catherine begging at his door? She was begging someone else.

Catherine accepting she belonged to him? She belonged to Alex.

Catherine learning to worship him? She was worshipping that gigolo.

Everything I wanted.

Everything I spent twelve months trying to earn.

Everything I was supposed to claim tonight.

Given to a stranger.

To someone who's known her for what? Hours? Days?

Adrian's breath stopped completely as another realization hit.

She looks happy.

Not just satisfied. Not just pleased with herself.

Happy.

Genuinely, radiantly happy in a way Adrian had never seen in twelve months of devoted service.

That expression... the one he'd dreamed of earning, the one he'd worked for, the one he'd convinced himself she'd show him tonight when she finally accepted what they were to each other...

She's giving it to him.

Freely.

Willingly.

Without hesitation or negotiation or political calculation.

Then she spoke, voice breathy and seeking:

"Was I good?"

Three words that destroyed him.

Was I good?

Catherine Blackwood asking for approval. For validation. For confirmation that she'd pleased someone.

The way Adrian had begged her to acknowledge him for a year.

Alex's hand tightened slightly in her hair, thumb brushing her temple with casual affection that spoke of intimacy Adrian had never achieved.

"Perfect," he murmured.

And Catherine's smile widened into something radiant.

Adrian's cultivation base exploded outward, power erupting in waves that made the air itself scream and crack like breaking glass.

His voice came out broken, raw, barely human:

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!"

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