Amelia straddled Ryan's hips, her body moving in slow, deliberate circles as she sought her own pleasure while drawing deep, ragged moans from him. His hands roamed her curves, squeezing her breasts, thumbs teasing her nipples until they peaked under his touch. She arched into him, biting her lip as the friction between them built with every roll of her hips.
"You're so hot, Amelia," Ryan groaned, his grip tightening on her waist as he thrust up to meet her.
She braced her hands on his chest, riding him harder now, chasing the sweet tension coiling low in her belly. His fingers dug into her skin, urging her on as their breaths grew uneven, their bodies slick with sweat.
When the pressure finally snapped, Amelia cried out, her body shuddering as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Ryan followed with a rough groan, his hips jerking as he spilled inside her.
Breathless, Amelia collapsed onto the bed beside him, her chest rising and falling rapidly from the exertion. After a moment, she turned and curled into his side, her head resting gently on his chest. His fingers absently traced soft patterns along her bare shoulder.
She exhaled a long breath, a sigh escaping her lips, before she tilted her face up to look at him. Her eyes searched his, a silent question hanging in the air, and then, finally, she asked what had been gnawing at her for far too long.
"Ryan… we've been together for a while now. When are you going to marry me?" Her voice was soft but firmed.
His hand stilled on her shoulder at her words. A beat of silence passed, too long and heavy in the air, before he cleared his throat, shifting slightly away from her gaze. "You know I want to, Amelia," he said quietly, almost too casually. "But I still need to persuade my parents. They're… are very particular about their business interest…."
Her jaw tightened at the words, her frustration surfacing as irritation crept into her voice. "How much longer?" she pressed, her tone sharp now, demanding. "How long do I have to wait for you to stand up to them?"
"I'm working on it," Ryan said, his voice strained, avoiding her eyes.
Ameilia clenched her teeth, frustration simmering beneath her skin. She couldn't stand it—watching Sophie, that illegitimate nobody, being doted on by Leonard, enjoying the life Amelia had long dreamed of with Ryan. Sophie lived in luxury, a life Amelia could only imagine, while she was left to wait for scraps of commitment from the man she loved. It wasn't fair. Sophie didn't deserve that kind of happiness. And she sure as hell wasn't going to lose to her.
Ryan cleared his throat, attempting to change the subject, but it was all too much for Amelia to bear. "Speaking of your sister Sophie," Ryan said, his tone a bit lighter, "I didn't expect her to be so beautiful."
Amelia's stomach churned at the words, an involuntary pang of jealousy rising sharply in her chest. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, the anger flaring bright and sharp, pushing her past any rational thought.
"What?" she hissed, her voice laced with venom. She pulled herself up, her face contorting in agitation. "You think she's beautiful? You're so blind, Ryan! You think she's got it all, don't you? She uses her looks to get guys to fall at her feet, to get attention. That's all she's good for."
The words tumbled out in a rush, a mix of anger and bitterness. "She's just a pretty face, Ryan. That's the only thing that matters to everyone, isn't it?"
Amelia leaned against the headboard, her phone clutched in her hand, a sly smile playing on her lips. Ryan lay beside her, still catching his breath from their earlier intimacy. She traced a finger down his chest, watching his reaction carefully.
"Hey…" she purred, "You really think Sophie's beautiful, don't you?"
Ryan glanced at her, cautious but intrigued. "I mean, yeah. She's your sister—of course she's attractive."
Amelia smirked. "What if I told you… I have some special photos of her?"
Ryan's brows lifted. "What kind of photos?"
She unlocked her phone with a deliberate swipe, then turned the screen toward him. "The kind she didn't know I took."
Ryan's breath hitched.
The first image showed Sophie standing in front of a mirror, her back bare, the curve of her waist dipping into the edge of her skirt. The next—her half-turned, the side of her breast exposed as she pulled a blouse over her head. Then another: Sophie in nothing but a lace bra and panties, caught mid-motion as she dressed.
Ryan's jaw tightened, his gaze locked on the screen.
"Damn," he muttered, his voice rougher than before. "She's got a really nice figure."
Amelia watched him, her stomach twisting with bitter satisfaction. Of course he'd react like this.
"Want them?" she asked, her tone light, as if offering him a drink. "I've got more. You can admire them all you want."
Ryan dragged his eyes away from the photos to look at her. "You're serious?"
She shrugged, feigning indifference. "Why not? It's not like she'll ever know."
For a second, Ryan hesitated—but then his fingers twitched toward the phone.
Amelia's smile turned sharp.
Late at night, Ryan's apartment. The dim glow of his phone illuminates his face as he scrolls through the stolen shots of Sophie—her bare back, the curve of her waist, the teasing glimpse of skin she never meant for him to see.
Ryan's breath grew heavier, his free hand sliding beneath the sheets. He couldn't help it—the way Sophie's body was captured in those private moments, the way her lips were slightly parted as she buttoned her blouse… It drove him wild.
"Fuck," he muttered, gripping himself tighter, imagining it was her hands on him instead.
His mind raced with fantasies—Sophie beneath him, gasping his name. Sophie on her knees, looking up at him with those big, innocent eyes. Sophie bent over a desk, her perfect ass bare as he—
A groan escaped him as he came hard, his pulse pounding in his ears.
Panting, he slumped back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. A dark, possessive thought slithered into his mind:
If I ever get to fuck her… The thought alone sent a jolt of heat through him. It would be so much better than just these photos.
Days later, Amelia lounged on Ryan's couch, swirling a glass of wine as she watched him scroll through his phone. A smirk curled her lips.
"Enjoying your collection?" she asked, her voice dripping with false sweetness.
Ryan didn't look up. "You know I am."
She leaned closer, her tone playful but edged with something darker. "What if you could have the real thing?"
His thumb stilled. He finally met her gaze, his pupils dilated with desire. "Are you offering?"
Amelia laughed, low and mocking. "Oh, Ryan. You really do have a death wish, don't you?" She tilted her head. "Aren't you scared of Leonard?"
Ryan exhaled sharply. "Of course I'm scared. That guy could ruin me with one phone call."
"Then why even think about it?" Amelia pressed, watching him carefully.
Ryan's jaw clenched. "If Sophie came to me willingly… why the hell would I say no?"
Amelia's smile widened.
She set her wineglass down with deliberate slowness, then reached into her purse and pulled out a small, unmarked vial. She dangled it between her fingers, the liquid inside catching the light.
*****
Sophie's phone buzzed as she stepped out of the shower, the screen lighting up with an unfamiliar number. She wiped her hands on a towel and picked it up, frowning at the message preview: "You might want to see this."
Confused, she unlocked the screen—and froze.
There, staring back at her, was a photo of herself—half-dressed, caught mid-change in what was unmistakably the guest room at the Lin residence. Her heart stopped. She swiped again. Another photo. Then another. Each one more invasive than the last. The angles, the timing… they weren't taken by accident.
New message:
"If you don't divorce Leonard Yan within the week, these will be sent to every major tabloid in the city. You'll bring shame to the Yan family…"
Sophie's hands trembled violently, her phone nearly slipping from her fingers. Her mind raced. How were these photos even taken? She racked her brain, heart hammering in her chest. The setting was too familiar—the curtains, the lighting, the furniture. It was the Lin family home.
Her blood ran cold.
Someone from her own family had done this.
Sophie stumbled backward, gripping the edge of the vanity to steady herself. Her vision blurred. If this got out—if the media got hold of these—what would happen to the Yan Group's reputation? What would happen to Leonard?
Would he ever forgive her? Would she even forgive herself?
Tears burned her eyes as the weight of the threat sank in. She couldn't let this happen. But how could she face Leonard now… knowing someone had violated her so cruelly and planned to use her against him?
Her phone buzzed again.
"Tick-tock, Mrs. Yan. The clock's running out."
Sophie clutched the towel tighter around her shoulders, her body trembling as she sank onto the bed. The silence of the room felt deafening now. One thing was clear—she had to act fast.
Sophie was still sitting on the edge of the bed, her phone clenched tightly in her hand when Leonard walked in from his study. His sharp eyes immediately zeroed in on her pale face and hunched posture.
"Sophie?" His voice was gentle, but laced with concern. "What's wrong?"
She jolted slightly, startled by his sudden presence. Quickly, she turned off her phone and slipped it under the pillow before standing. "Nothing. I'm just… tired," she said, forcing a small smile. "Long day."
Leonard didn't buy it. His brow furrowed as he stepped closer. "You're shaking." He reached out, his hand brushing her arm. "Talk to me."
"I'm fine," she said quickly, inching toward the bed and pulling back the blanket. "Really. Just exhausted." She climbed in before he could ask more, turning to face away from him. "Can we talk tomorrow?"
Leonard stood there for a moment, unmoving. His instincts told him something was off—deeply off—but the way Sophie curled into herself, her back trembling ever so slightly beneath the covers, stopped him.
He sighed softly and sat down beside her, brushing a hand gently down her hair. "Alright. But if something's bothering you… you don't have to carry it alone, Sophie."
She swallowed hard, biting back the tears that threatened to spill. "I know," she whispered.
Leonard turned off the lights and slipped into bed beside her, his arm wrapping around her waist protectively.
The next morning, Sophie woke early, Leonard still fast asleep beside her. Careful not to disturb him, she slipped out of bed and padded into the study with her phone in hand. Her fingers trembled slightly as she opened the message again—the grainy photos of her changing clothes, captured without her knowledge.
She zoomed in on the edges of the images—familiar patterns on the wallpaper, the faint outline of the Lin estate's garden just outside the window. Her chest tightened. It was clear now: these were taken from inside the Lin residence.
Someone in that house did this.
Possibilities flashed through her mind—Amelia? Madam Lin? A bribed servant? Any one of them had the motive. And now… someone had these images and was using them to hurt her—and by extension, Leonard.
Her stomach twisted.
Even if the photos weren't leaked yet, the mere fact that they existed posed a serious risk. The Yan family's reputation was spotless, revered, almost untouchable. One scandal—especially something as personal and cruel as this—could spark wildfire. And if it came out that the future Mrs. Yan had explicit photos taken at her old home…
She would never forgive herself. Leonard's company would take a hit. His name would be dragged through the mud. The family that had finally accepted her would suffer—and it would all be because of her.
She couldn't let that happen. Sophie cried, her chest tight with the weight of the decision she was about to make. After freshening up, she dressed quickly and left the room, her heart cracking a little more with each step away from him.
Downstairs, the house was still and silent. She grabbed her bag and slipped out the door, trying to ignore the gnawing ache inside her.
It wasn't long before her phone buzzed with a message from Leonard.
Leonard: Why did you leave so early, love?
She stared at his name on the screen for a long moment before forcing herself to reply.
Sophie: There's something urgent I need to settle at work before my boss arrives. I'll see you tonight.
It was a lie. But it was easier than the truth.
As she entered the office, her phone vibrated again—this time from the anonymous number.
Anonymous: Tick-tock. You have until the weekend. Decide fast.
Sophie clenched her jaw and quickly replied.
Sophie: I'll do it. Just… give me a few days.
The response came almost instantly.
Anonymous: Good girl. If you want the originals back, we'll need to meet. Face-to-face.
A second message followed shortly after—an address and a time, both for the end of the week. Sophie's hands trembled. She didn't know what she would do when she got there, or who would be waiting. But if she wanted to protect Leonard, this was the price she had to pay.
She stared at the screen, her heart pounding so loudly she could barely hear her thoughts. Why her? Why now?
Tears pricked her eyes. She pressed a hand over her mouth to muffle the sob that escaped. She had to act fast. If those photos were ever released, it wouldn't just ruin her—it would destroy Leonard's reputation, taint the Yan name, and cast doubt over the entire company.
She sat on the edge of the bed, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. Then, quietly, she stood and began dressing for work. Her movements were stiff, mechanical, but she forced herself through the motions. She couldn't let Leonard see her like this.
By the time Leonard stirred, she was gone.
His message came minutes later:
Leonard: Why'd you leave so early? You okay?
Sophie stared at his text for a moment, her heart aching with guilt, before replying:
Sophie: Had some things to finish up before my boss comes in. Don't worry.
She set her phone down and inhaled shakily. She had just a few days left. Then… she'd do what she had to do. For Leonard. For the Yan Group. Even if it meant breaking both their hearts.