You've Got the Wrong Woman, Mr. Lance

"Madam, it seems Mr. Lance won't be coming home tonight. Perhaps you should rest first?" Martha Zayne kindly spoke upon noticing the still-lit bedroom.

A hint of disappointment crossed Jennifer Yale's eyes. Just then, the sound of an engine revving came from the yard. She didn't care to put on her slippers as she rushed to the window to peer outside.

Sure enough, it was Maxwell Lance's silver Bentley pulling into the garage.

Jennifer took a deep breath, glancing down at her sensual lingerie while her heart pounded like a drum. Despite being married for two years, Maxwell had always slept in the guest room, and he never touched her.

She knew their marriage was arranged by Maxwell's grandfather, Robert Lance, and it was not his choice. However, two years had passed. They couldn't possibly continue on like this.

Did Maxwell not like her because she was merely an undergraduate with no experience in relationships? Was it because he found her too passive?

With these thoughts, Jennifer quietly approached the guest room, clad in a sexy black lace nightgown. Summoning her courage, she knocked on the door, but there was no response.

Carefully, she opened the door and heard the sound of running water from the bathroom. Maxwell must still be showering.

The water suddenly stopped, and Maxwell emerged from the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around his waist. His muscular physique was in full display with water droplets cascading down his solid muscles.

Jennifer was momentarily stunned. So, was this the embodiment of looking slim when clothed but muscular when undressed?

"Jennifer!" Maxwell frowned, his tone clipped as he snapped, "Are you done staring? Who let you into my room?"

Awkwardly, Jennifer averted her gaze and replied meekly, "You're my husband. Isn't your room also mine?"

Then, with blushing cheeks, she blinked up at him and asked, "Do you like how I look?"

Her petite, delicate frame stood before him, her soft face flushed red, and her long lashes fluttered. She appeared so innocent yet emitted an irresistible allure at the same time.

He never knew his wife had this side to her.

Maxwell masked the strange look in his eyes and subconsciously gulped. Quickly, he put on his robe before tossing her one of his shirts.

Reining in his emotions, he said, "Go back to your room."

Jennifer looked at him aggrievedly, feeling as though she had humiliated herself. In her mind, her best friend Laura Scott's words resurfaced.

Laura had said that a young, energetic man like Maxwell, the scion of the wealthiest family in Haven City, coupled with his good looks, would inevitably attract countless women's attention.

As he couldn't possibly remain celibate for long, he had to be indulging elsewhere and then coming home with a facade of abstinence.

In a moment of doubt, Jennifer blurted out, "Are you seeing someone else?"

Maxwell's gaze flickered briefly, and he neither confirmed nor denied it.

Calmly, he uttered the cruelest words, "Jennifer, on the day we got married, I told you all I could offer was the position of Mrs. Lance. You shouldn't think about having anything else."

Each time he repeated those words, a wave of powerlessness and despair surged within Jennifer, overwhelming her.

Perhaps to him, she was just a girl from a modest background trying to climb the social ladder by marrying him. After all, no one would willingly marry a stranger.

What he didn't know was that, many years ago, he had been a beacon of light that illuminated her world.

While Jennifer was lost in her thoughts, Maxwell had opened the door for her. "Go to bed. Don't dress like that again. It doesn't suit you."

At his evident dismissal, Jennifer left his room dejectedly, her face burning with mortification.

As soon as she returned to her bedroom, her father, Zion Yale, called. "Dad, I'm sorry. He probably won't be going to Grandma's birthday celebration tomorrow."

Jennifer knew she wouldn't be able to persuade Maxwell.

Zion sighed heavily, saying, "You've been married for two years, yet he hasn't visited our family once. I've said we weren't worthy of the Lance family. If it weren't for your mother's insistence—"

"Dad." Jennifer disliked hearing disparaging remarks about her mother. She interjected, "I married him out of my own will!"

…

The next day, Jennifer had to attend her grandmother Agnes Taylor's birthday celebration alone. Although she knew Agnes wasn't fond of her, she had to offer a toast in front of the guests as a show of respect.

Her stepmother, Jocelyn Logan, remarked sarcastically, "Hey, Jennifer, why didn't you bring Maxwell? It's been two years since you got married, and we haven't even seen him."

Agnes held a glass of wine and echoed with a fake smile, "I suppose our humble Yale family isn't worth his time! Today is an important day, but it seems like Maxwell doesn't value his grandmother-in-law."

Jennifer's stepsister, Bridget Yale, chimed in mockingly, "Jennifer, I think the one Maxwell doesn't value is not Grandma but you. Am I right?"

The voices of ridicule buzzed in Jennifer's ears, making her feel miserable. Out of frustration, she emptied her glass in one go.

However, the aftereffects of the wine hit her hard, and she soon blacked out.

In a car, Jocelyn and Bridget sat on either side of her.

"Mom, as long as we get Jennifer into Mr. Zito's bed, I will secure my role as the second female lead in his new show!" Bridget's eyes sparkled with excitement.

Jocelyn slyly ordered, "We mustn't let your father find out. Since he dotes on that wretched girl so much, he might kill us both."

"I know, I know," Bridget replied. "I've confirmed with Mr. Zito to bring her to Nimbus Lounge's penthouse suite."

Jocelyn chuckled darkly. "What's so great about Jennifer? She doesn't deserve to marry Maxwell. It's only because of her mother who operated on Mr. Lance Senior and saved his life years ago that she got married to him.

"On her deathbed, she entrusted Jennifer to them. At the end of the day, she was trying to reach the top. How shameless!"

Bridget quickly agreed, "Exactly! If anyone should marry Maxwell, it should be me. What makes Jennifer better than me?"

Jocelyn swore through gritted teeth, "Tonight, we will ruin her completely!"

…

Jocelyn and Bridget had only added a few sleeping pills to Jennifer's drink. When Jennifer felt a man's heavy breath and warmth on her, she immediately snapped awake.

"Ugh... Let go of me!"

The room was dark, and she couldn't see the man's face. Thus, she could only struggle against him with all her might, knowing the consequences of letting the man have his way would be irreversible.

However, the man easily subdued her flailing arms. His warm lips brushed against her ear as he spoke in a low and husky voice, "Shh, behave..."