After saying that, Sylvia swayed her hips and followed Nathaniel Fu into the elevator. The two of them disappeared into their room.
Celia said nothing. Quietly, she returned to her own room.
······
Inside the suite, Sylvia stepped into the shower. When she emerged, she was wearing a revealing silk nightgown. She smiled brightly the moment she spotted Nathaniel.
The tall, lean man stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a cigarette. Smoke curled between his fingers.
He had barely let go of his cigarette tonight—and had smoked more than usual.
"Honey, let's go to bed early tonight," Sylvia said cheerfully, pulling back the quilt, eager to lie down.
She could finally sleep with Nathaniel Fu. She had waited too long for this moment.
But just as she was about to climb into bed, Nathaniel suddenly spoke.
"Where's the surprise you said you prepared for me tonight?"
Sylvia froze. "Surprise?"
Nathaniel slowly turned toward her. His smoke-veiled eyes narrowed sharply. "Didn't you say you had something special planned for me tonight? Don't tell me you forgot."
······
Meanwhile, Celia had just finished her shower and was lying in bed, but sleep wouldn't come.
What were he and Sylvia doing now?
Were they... doing the same things he had done with her the night before?
Celia squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the thought.
Just then, the doorbell rang.
She hesitated, then got up and opened the door—only to find Sylvia standing there.
Sylvia stormed in. "Celia! What surprise did you tell my husband about? Why didn't you tell me anything? Are you trying to expose everything?"
"Surprise?" Celia frowned. "I didn't tell him anything."
Before she could say more, a tall figure suddenly appeared at the doorway.
Celia's heart skipped—Nathaniel Fu was here!
She instinctively shot a warning look at Sylvia.
But Sylvia, with her back to the door, didn't notice. She kept ranting, "Celia, I know what you're trying to do. You want him to find out about the substitution! You want him to know it was you in his bed all along. You're tired of being a stand-in. You want to become Mrs. Fu, don't you?"
Celia clenched her fists. I'm not afraid of clever enemies, only foolish allies…
"Enough, Sylvia! Just stop talking!" she snapped.
Something in her tone must have struck a nerve, because Sylvia finally turned—only to come face-to-face with Nathaniel.
She froze in place, horror flooding her face. "H-Honey, why… why are you here?"
Nathaniel took a slow step inside, clapping his hands. "Bravo. What a spectacular performance. A stand-in? Is that right?"
"Honey, no—it's not what you think. Please, just let me explain—"
Before she could finish, two men in black suits entered the room, each taking hold of Sylvia's arms without a word. She struggled but couldn't resist as they dragged her out.
Celia stood frozen.
Nathaniel turned to her. His face was like carved stone—handsome but cold, his eyes darker than ever.
He took a step closer.
She backed away instinctively, retreating until the backs of her knees hit the bed. She fell onto the mattress.
Nathaniel stopped just in front of her.
He leaned down, his arms braced on either side of her, trapping her in.
A tense, sharp silence hung between them.
"Tell me," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "should I call you Celia… or Sylvia?"
Her heart stopped.
He knew.
He knew everything.
So this was why he'd acted so strange tonight. He'd deliberately planted that question about a "surprise"—he had been waiting for Sylvia to walk right into it.
"You… when did you find out?" she whispered.
He didn't answer immediately. His eyes flickered with something unreadable.
He didn't look like someone who had just figured it out today.