The night before my wedding, I caught my fiance in bed with my half sister, the two of them tangled up on our wedding bed.
I didn't cry or make a scene. I calmly took pictures, then canceled the wedding in front of all the guests the next day, slapped him, and walked away.
I had wasted ten years of my youth on a worthless man. I headed to a quiet bar, drank until I was half drunk, grabbed a man sitting in the corner, and shoved a check at him. "Spend the night with me."
The man looked up at me for two seconds, took the check, and said quietly, "All right."
One wild night.
The next day, I woke up in a luxurious suite of nearly a thousand square feet. When I saw the custom watch, one of only ten in the world, and the car keys engraved with a Z on the bedside table, I finally realized:
The "male model" I had hired last night was Zhou Muqing, the young heir of Beijing's elite circles, who had returned from overseas and single-handedly consolidated the Zhou empire.
Everyone in our circle says, "You can offend the King of Hell, but never Zhou Muqing."
Not only had I offended him, I had slept with him.
I tried to sneak out, but he blocked the doorway.
Leaning casually against the frame, he said at his leisure, "Miss An, you slept with me. You have to take responsibility."
I thought it was a farce in which we each got what we wanted.
It wasn't until much later that I learned that from the moment I handed over that check, I had fallen into a trap he had been laying for three years.
