"Going in?"

"Wait."

Vivienne Hartwell stood by the half-open private room door for quite a while without moving.

The music inside was so loud it rattled the walls. Mixed into it were men laughing way too freely and women speaking in those soft, sugary voices, all of it drifting out through the crack in the door.

Manager Chen stood half a step behind her, bent slightly at the waist, so nervous he barely dared breathe.

He seriously had no clue what Mrs. Aldridge was trying to do.

If she was here to catch her husband cheating, why was she still just standing there?

If she was heartbroken, she sure didn’t look it.

She just kept staring into the room without blinking.

Under the crystal chandelier, a group of rich young heirs lounged around with sexy, curvy women tucked against their sides.

Some were drinking, some were talking, some had their hands wandering where they obviously shouldn’t be.

And Sebastian Aldridge, the husband she’d been married to for three years, was no exception.

He sat lazily in the center of the velvet sofa, long legs crossed, a cigarette between his fingers. The drifting smoke blurred his sharp, handsome features.

A woman in a tight red dress was pressed right up against him, like his secondhand smoke didn’t bother her one bit.

"Mr. Aldridge~ You’re this young, this successful, and this handsome. No way you’re married, right?"

Sebastian lifted a brow. The hand holding the cigarette rose slightly, and the platinum wedding band on his ring finger caught the light.

"What do you think?" His voice was low, flat, impossible to read.

"Oh, stop it~" The woman’s eyes dropped to his ring. She gave his arm a coy little slap and laughed sweetly. "Then... is your wife prettier than me?"

Sebastian took a drag, then slowly let the smoke out. He turned his head and glanced at her, the corner of his mouth curving in a half-smile that looked more mocking than warm.

"What?" he drawled. "You want to replace her and be my wife?"

The woman seemed to take that as a green light. Emboldened, she smiled and said, "Mr. Aldridge, I really wouldn’t mind being the younger one~"

A wave of knowing laughter broke out in the private room at once.

"Hahaha, this girl’s got guts!"

"Way more fun than those fake shy types!"

"His wife’s at home right now, probably sneezing already!"

Outside the room, the manager, Mr. Crane, had cold sweat beading on his forehead. Seeing that Vivienne Hartwell still had no intention of leaving, he quickly raised a hand and tried to push the door open, clearly planning to go in and smooth things over.

But Vivienne stopped him, her hand pressing down on his arm.

The next second—

She kicked the half-closed private room door open without the slightest warning.

Bang—

She did not hold back at all.

The door slammed hard against the wall with a heavy thud that echoed through the room.

In an instant, all the laughter, flirting, and teasing inside cut off dead. More than a dozen pairs of eyes turned toward the entrance at the same time.

Sebastian Aldridge lazily lifted his eyelids. But the moment he saw who it was, a flicker of surprise flashed through his eyes.

Vivienne wore no makeup. Her clothes were plain and simple, so clean and understated that she looked completely out of place in this glittering, wine-soaked room.

Her delicate face, usually soft and gentle, had lost every trace of warmth. What remained was only coldness. Ignoring all the prying looks around her, she walked straight to Sebastian.

"Mr. Aldridge, wow. Looks like you’ve been living the dream."

"When are you planning to replace me as your wife? Give me a heads-up first, yeah? Wouldn’t want to get in the way of your good time."

Sebastian stared at Vivienne, his expression unreadable, almost complicated, like he was sizing up a total stranger who had suddenly barged into his world.

Before he could say anything, the woman sitting right beside him got cocky from all the praise she had just received. Wearing the smug tone of someone acting like she knew better, she started lecturing Vivienne.

“Sis, no need to come in this hot,” the woman said with a fake smile, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Men are born playful. A little acting up outside? Isn’t that normal? The real loser is the woman who can’t keep her own man in line.”

As she spoke, she lifted her chin at Vivienne Hartwell again, full-on provocation, like she was scared nobody would notice her.

“Instead of losing it in here like some shrew, maybe you should go home and think real hard about what you’re lacking. Otherwise, how could you fail to keep Mr. Aldridge’s heart?”

“Damn, well said.” Tristan Mercer, Sebastian Aldridge’s old buddy, clapped right on cue, clearly loving the chaos. “You’ve got guts, little thing. I like that.”

Vivienne only gave the woman a casual glance, like she couldn’t even be bothered. Then she fired back, cool and sharp, “A woman like you, always busy reflecting on whether you’re ‘good enough,’ probably couldn’t find a husband even back in your own village, huh?”

She paused, lips curving faintly, her voice turning even meaner.

“So all you can do is act like a cat in heat, eyeing someone else’s trash can all day, digging through garbage and treating it like treasure.”

The second the words landed, she grabbed the glass off the coffee table without even checking what liquor was in it and flung it straight at the woman’s face.

The woman let out a shrill scream. One second she was strutting around like a rooster ready to fight, the next she looked like a drowned rat.

The icy alcohol poured down from her hair, ruined her makeup on the spot, and spread dark wet stains all over that bright red dress.

“If you’d kept your mouth shut,” Vivienne said, setting the glass down, “I might’ve just assumed you were mute.”

She lightly brushed her fingers together, as if dusting off something dirty that wasn’t even there. “But since you were dying to get cursed out, fine. Wish granted.”

“You crazy bitch!” the woman snapped, shaking all over with rage. Her voice cracked as she turned to Sebastian and complained, “Mr. Aldridge, this is too much. You have to be fair to me.”

She’d seen scenes like this plenty of times before—wives storming in, yelling, making a mess. Nothing new. And with the man beside her showing zero guilt at being caught, her courage had shot way up.

She honestly thought he’d back her up and put the wife in her place.

Instead, Sebastian flicked the spilled drops off his suit and said two cold words, “Get out.”

The woman froze, unwilling to give up. She tried to soften her voice and whine, “Mr. Aldridge…”

“I won’t say it twice.”

Sebastian’s voice dropped lower, heavy with the kind of pressure that came naturally to him.

Her face turned white in an instant. She didn’t dare cling to him anymore and could only leave in humiliation.

Silence slammed back over the private room.

Only the faint, distant hum of the background music was left.

Only then did Sebastian Aldridge lift his eyes and look at Vivienne Hartwell. "What are you doing here?"

Vivienne answered like it was no big deal, calm as ever. "I came to get you. Your mother told me to. Be a good boy, listen to your mom, and go home early."

The irritation in Sebastian’s eyes got even heavier. He leaned back into the sofa, lazy and provocative, like he was openly picking a fight. "And what if I don’t?"

Tristan Mercer jumped in again right on cue, fanning the flames. "Vivienne, enough already. Seb not coming home at night isn’t exactly news. It’s been like this forever. You never made this big a deal before, so what, did you take the wrong meds today? Men go out to socialize, women stay home and wait. Running out here and making a scene? Seriously, what does that look like?"

Vivienne smiled, soft and pretty, then calmly sat down on the single sofa nearby. "Sure. Then let’s all stop taking things so seriously."

Everyone thought she had finally backed down, that she was just going to wait quietly until Sebastian had had his fun and felt like going home.

But the next second, Vivienne crooked a finger at Manager Chen by the door. "Bring me the tablet."

"Huh?" Manager Chen froze, clearly caught off guard.

Vivienne pointed at the tablet in his hand and repeated, slow and clear, "Bring it here. Weren’t you the one outside just now, telling me your club has a full range of male models, all in top shape, with super professional service? The whole premium package, remember?"

She smiled with her eyes curved bright. "Perfect. I happen to be free right now, so I’ll check for myself."

Cold sweat instantly broke out on Manager Chen’s back. He sneaked a glance at Sebastian’s face, dark as a storm cloud, and stammered, "Mrs. Aldridge, this... this really isn’t a good idea. Mr. Aldridge, he..."

"So chatty." Vivienne got up on the spot, walked over in two quick steps, and snatched the tablet right out of his hands.

Then she went back to the sofa, sat down like nobody else in the room existed, and started swiping through the screen. Her fingers moved fast and clean.

One after another, photos of young, handsome male models popped up on the screen, all sharp jawlines, broad shoulders, and tight muscle.

Vivienne browsed like she was seriously shopping, even giving live commentary as she went.

"Tsk, not this one. Those abs are way too overdone. Looks like a steel plate. Bet he’d feel hard and scratchy to touch. Kinda scary, honestly."

"Mmm, this one’s not bad. Lean muscle, nice lines, looks toned but not too much. Probably feels firm and springy. Okay, yeah, I’m into this."

With every word out of her mouth, the pressure in the private room dropped lower and lower. As for Sebastian, "ugly expression" didn’t even begin to cover how bad his face looked.

Tristan was completely dumbfounded. He stared at her, then blurted out, "Vivienne! Have you lost your mind?"

Vivienne didn’t even look up. "What? You men wear your morals looser than a broken belt, and I’m not allowed to enjoy a little eye candy while I’m still young?"

Tristan got hit so hard by that line he couldn’t say a single word back.

"This one’s way too dark. Soy-sauce dark. Kinda kills the appetite."

"Oh—wait, this one’s good."

Vivienne Hartwell’s eyes seemed to light up for a second, her fingertip stopping on a male host’s photo.

"That waist? Damn. And the skin’s that cold, pale kind too. Looks clean, fresh, easy on the eyes."

After going back and forth for a while, she finally settled on the ones she liked. She handed the tablet to Manager Chen, whose face looked as bitter as a crushed gourd, and spoke in a calm, casual tone, like she was ordering food off a menu.

"These three. Tell them to hurry up and get here. I’m kind of running out of patience."

"Are you done making a scene yet?"

The man’s displeased voice suddenly cut through the private room.