The silk sheets were damp with sweat, feeling a little sticky.
Faye Vaughn arched her back uncomfortably, her voice soft as she begged for mercy. "It's almost morning... I really can't go on..."
Wyatt Hawthorne's eyes were dark, a clear sign he wasn't finished. He pinched her cheek. "Begging is useless at a time like this."
Faye Vaughn let out a whimper.
She looked utterly pitiful.
But it didn't earn her a shred of the man's pity. Instead, he only became more relentless.
Faye Vaughn bit her lip, a suggestive flush coloring her fair skin, a bewitching sight that could stir any man's soul.
Wyatt Hawthorne was very satisfied with her body.
Young. Soft. Tender.
She couldn't handle the slightest provocation.
By the time the sky had brightened completely, the man got out of bed and went to the bathroom for a shower.
Faye Vaughn, completely drained, was wrapped in the blanket when she heard her phone DING. A voice from her payment app announced, "Payment received. One million."
'Oh, it's the first of the month again.'
Wyatt Hawthorne's secretary always transferred her money on schedule.
'To call it living expenses would be generous. To be blunt... it was payment for sex.'
Faye Vaughn's lips curled into a faint smile.
She'd been with Wyatt Hawthorne for three years, ever since she was eighteen.
'It wasn't for his money.'
Faye Vaughn pulled the blanket higher, revealing a pair of shimmering doe eyes. She blinked innocently as she watched the man emerge from the bathroom.
Wyatt Hawthorne was thirty years old.
A white bath towel hung low on his hips, barely covering his V-line, revealing a set of eight-pack abs that were enough to make anyone drool.
He had a deceptively handsome face.
But anyone who knew him understood he was ruthless and merciless, a man who could change fortunes with the flip of a hand.
Faye Vaughn's gaze drifted upward, glancing at the space above his head.
'Affection Level: 30%.'
'A full three years.'
'This man's heart is made of stone.'
'This pitifully low affection level was probably mostly due to her supple body.'
Faye Vaughn knew from the very first day she transmigrated into this world that she had to conquer the four men of the Hawthorne family to return to her own world.
'Conquer four of them.'
'The four Hawthorne brothers.'
"Vivian Windsor is back. I have to go pick her up from the airport."
The man said nonchalantly as he got dressed, "You be good and stay home. Don't make a scene."
His tone wasn't harsh.
But it was a clear warning.
Faye Vaughn understood his temperament well enough to nod obediently. "I'll wait for you at home."
Vivian Windsor was Wyatt Hawthorne's confidante.
How intimate they were, however, was anyone's guess.
Besides, Wyatt Hawthorne had more than one "white moonlight" or "red rose" in his life.
When Faye first transmigrated, she was still naive. She'd used her youth to her advantage, acting cute and throwing tantrums, demanding he be with her and her alone.
That day, the affection level above Wyatt Hawthorne's head plummeted from the 20% it had just reached, all the way down to 10%.
'From then on, she knew. He liked them obedient.'
...
After Wyatt Hawthorne left, Faye Vaughn slept soundly.
It was already afternoon by the time she got out of bed.
She changed into a set of loose loungewear and padded downstairs in soft slippers.
Downstairs, Third Young Master Hawthorne, the twenty-one-year-old Finn Hawthorne, was throwing darts at a dartboard.
He saw Faye Vaughn coming down the stairs and narrowed his eyes, aiming a dart at her. "Don't move. If you die, don't blame me."
Faye Vaughn froze on the staircase, her already pitiful-looking doe eyes welling up with tears, her expression timid and terrified.
Finn Hawthorne scoffed, his tone dripping with contempt. "Useless pushover. If you hadn't latched onto my eldest brother, you'd have died a hundred times over by now."
Faye Vaughn blinked, and a single, reflexive tear rolled from the corner of her eye. "You're right..." she said weakly.
Finn Hawthorne stared at her tear for a second, feeling nothing but disgust and irritation. He barked, "Get the hell out of my sight. I don't want to see you again."
Faye Vaughn, seeming to have no temper at all, gave a soft "mhm" and scurried down the rest of the stairs.
Out of anyone's line of sight, the corners of her lips slowly curled into a smirk.
'Third Young Master Hawthorne went to the same university as her.'
'When she first arrived in this world, Third Young Master Hawthorne had pursued her.'
'But then, through a bizarre twist of fate, she ended up becoming his eldest brother's woman.'
'Ever since then, Finn Hawthorne's affection level had been jumping erratically between negative and positive values.'
'Case in point: after she spent the night with his eldest brother, Finn's affection level was once again so far in the negative it was about to go off the charts.'
...
Faye Vaughn bypassed Finn Hawthorne and went into the dining room, taking a seat at the lavish marble table.
Someone was already there, eating.
He was dressed in a dapper three-piece suit, looking handsome and refined. Beneath his gold-rimmed glasses, his gaze was sharp and calm.
This was the second young master of the Hawthorne family, Vincent Hawthorne.
The founder of the largest law firm in Keston, he was also a renowned lawyer in his own right.
"Hello, Second Young Master."
Faye Vaughn greeted him softly.
A maid served her favorite Chinese stir-fry.
Vincent Hawthorne frowned. His voice, though gentle, carried a cool note of displeasure. "Miss Vaughn, I've told you before. You should learn to eat steak."
Faye Vaughn, who had just raised her chopsticks to get some food, widened her eyes in alarm. "I-I'm sorry... I'll have the steak instead."
She frantically put down her bowl and chopsticks and called a maid over to replace them with a plate and silverware.
Only when the medium-well filet mignon was placed on the table did Vincent Hawthorne's lips curl into a smile. "Miss Vaughn," he said urbanely, "I'll trouble you to eat it for me."
'What a pervert.'
Faye Vaughn complained inwardly.
But her fair face showed not a hint of impatience. She sat up straight, elegantly picked up her knife and fork, and began to eat in small, delicate bites.
'It wasn't that she preferred to be all elegant and noble.'
'It was because Vincent Hawthorne's "white moonlight"—the woman he'd cherished and admired for years, the eldest daughter of the Windsor family, Vivian Windsor—was just this poised and elegant.'
'Unfortunately, Vivian Windsor had been in love with the eldest Hawthorne brother, Wyatt, since they were children.'
'Vincent's unrequited love had long been suppressed deep in his heart.'
'Suppressed to the point that it had become something of a pathology.'
'As it happened, Faye Vaughn looked about seventy percent similar to Vivian Windsor.'
'The very first day she moved into the Hawthorne villa, the affection level above Vincent Hawthorne's head had spiked, jumping straight to 20%.'
'Even though she was his eldest brother's woman, Vincent's affection level never dropped.'
'Whenever they were alone, Vincent would make her role-play as his "white moonlight," Vivian Windsor, imitating her every action and mannerism.'
'Over the course of three years, Vincent's affection level had climbed to 35%.'
'A little higher than his eldest brother, Wyatt.'
'It was just absurd.'
"Miss Vaughn, you have some sauce on the corner of your mouth."
Faye Vaughn was in the middle of eating her steak when Vincent, who was beside her, suddenly leaned in, napkin in hand, to wipe her mouth for her.
As he leaned in, the crisp, woody scent of his cologne enveloped her, feeling almost invasive.
Faye Vaughn leaned back to avoid him, her pretty face hardening slightly. She chided softly, "We're not children anymore. There should be some distance between a man and a woman."
Vincent's hand froze. A flicker of darkness crossed his eyes as he murmured in a low, hoarse voice, "Yes. We're not children anymore."
He seemed lost in thought for only a moment before quickly composing himself.
He slowly adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and praised, "Miss Vaughn, you're a very quick study."
Faye Vaughn glanced at the space above his head.
'Affection Level: 36%.'
'It went up by a point.'
'He's so sick.'
'If she had meekly let him wipe her mouth just now, the affection level would have dropped.'
'Because that's not how Vivian Windsor would act around him.'
'Vivian would use the tone of an "older sister" to gently scold him.'