Unveiled: The Survivor's Triumph

Ethan's Adam's apple bobbed, and his voice got all raspy.

"Your skin's smoother, and your body's firmer."

I tried to act casual while drying my hair. "After having kids, I was worried about my figure. So, I really focused on postpartum care. Now, I get body treatments at my shop every week and do yoga daily. Seems to be working." Ethan replied, "It's working alright. Just looking at you gets me hard."

He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close, making me drop the towel. I steadied myself by placing my hands on his shoulders.

My damp hair brushed his face, leaving little droplets on our pajamas, making them cling to our skin, see-through and tempting.

This time, I kissed him first. He tightened his arms around me, breathing heavily, and kissed me back passionately.

He paused to kiss my scar, his eyes burning with emotion.

"Honey, I'm sorry!"

His lips touched the scar, his voice low and apologetic.

I thought the scar from the bullet must look pretty ugly.

Just as things were heating up, we heard a kid crying from the side.

Maybe we were too loud, and at the worst moment, the kid woke up. One started crying, and the other followed. Ethan frowned but didn't seem like he wanted to stop.

I pushed him. "They're crying. Are they hungry? Go check on them."

Ethan lowered his head, panting and gritting his teeth, whispering in my ear, "Stopping now would kill me."

Despite his words, he paused, got out of bed, grabbed a towel to wrap around his lower body, and carried the two kids out.

After a bit, he came back alone, probably having taken the kids to the nanny.

He closed the door, walked over, tore off the towel, and picked up where we left off.

I asked, "Is this how you act as a dad?"

"Those little brats ruined my moment."

"You're unreasonable."

Ethan just lowered his head, sealing my lips and swallowing all my words. In the tangle of lips and teeth, only our heavy breaths remained. He touched my face, flashed a devastatingly charming smile, and leaned over me.

A satisfied sigh echoed in my ear.

"Honey, you're my addiction."

I wrapped my arms around his waist, snuggling into his embrace, feeling exhausted yet content and dependent. He was my addiction too. Afterwards, he dried my hair and held me as we slept.

The next morning, I went to a branch of The Empire Artistry Group and found our top tattoo artist. Stripping down to my underwear, I pointed to the scar on my breast.

She understood and handed me a book to choose a pattern. Based on the shape of my scar, she suggested a goldfish. The round scar could be the fish's eye, and I hoped my future would be as free as a fish. I lay on a clean bed as she adjusted the lamp and began her work. The process was painful but bearable.

Just as the tattoo was nearly finished, Nora called. I told her where I was, and she said she'd come over immediately.

Shortly after the tattoo was done, Nora arrived.

"Let me see, where did you get it?" she asked.

Then, I showed her the finished design, and she exclaimed in amazement.

"What a beautiful goldfish, so lifelike."

Seeing Nora's genuine reaction, I felt relieved.

Looking in the mirror, I gazed at the design. The scar had been transformed into a fish's eye, vivid and lifelike, almost unrecognizable as a scar. "Why did you suddenly decide to get a tattoo?" Nora asked.

I honestly replied, "To cover a scar."

"Where?"

I pointed, and Nora took a closer look, then teased. "What kind of scar is that? Did Ethan bite you?"

I wasn't about to explain where the scar came from.

Nora nudged my arm. "But seriously, that scar's in such a private spot. Besides Ethan, no one else sees it, so why bother with a tattoo?"

I lifted my chin, looked at myself in the mirror, and said calmly, "I got it for him."

Nora pouted. "You two are so lovey-dovey, it's enviable."

Her tone was teasing, so I casually asked, "Did you sort out last night's issue?"

At that, her expression soured, and she snorted. "You said he was easy to talk to. But in fact, he was completely unreasonable!"

Her words piqued my interest.

"Spill the tea."

Nora plopped down on the nearby sofa, looking frustrated.

"The bar owner is handsome, but he's so rigid. He even had the accountant bring a calculator to tally up the bill, insisting I pay for the damages."

I stifled a laugh. "Didn't you offer yourself as compensation?"

Nora rolled her eyes dramatically. "Do you think this is a romance drama? What if I said that and he thought I wasn't worth it? I'd be humiliated."

I sat down next to her, asking, "So how did you resolve it in the end? There must be a solution."

Nora nodded, looking deeply troubled.

"There is a solution: installment payments."

"How does that work?" I couldn't help but smile.

Nora held her head. "He gave me two options: either $50 a day for ten years or $10 a day for fifty years. My math is terrible, and he almost confused me. You know he's a businessman, so he's definitely good at calculations. I couldn't outsmart him; it felt like a trap."

"So which one did you choose?" I asked, smiling.

Nora said, "Of course, I chose $10 a day. That way, it doesn't hurt as much to pay."

I fell silent.

Nora turned to me. "Why did you stop talking?"

I smiled. "Nothing, just thinking you made the right choice."

Nora sighed again. "Fifty years, I'll be over seventy. It feels like a lifetime of debt."

I laughed, comforting her. "It's only $10 a day. Just skip a couple of drinks, and you'll have it."

Nora pulled a face. "That's the only way I can think about it."

She sighed again. "I swear, I'll never join in the fun again. Watching a commotion is more expensive than a concert ticket."

I smiled without saying anything.

She continued. "But he was kind enough to buy me a late-night snack after our negotiation last night."

I laughed. "So you ate back your $10 from yesterday?"

"Exactly."

After chatting with Nora for a while, we left the shop and headed back to the office together.

On the way, I sent a text to Frank: [Frank, your tactics are impressive!]

Soon, Frank replied: [Without impressive tactics, I'd be single forever.]

I texted back: [So she makes you think about not being single anymore?]

Frank replied: [She's kind of cute. Needs further observation.]

After work, I went to dinner with Dakota and then had her drive me to the club Ethan took me to yesterday. I asked Dakota to wait in the car while I went in alone.

The pool hall was bustling. As soon as I entered, several men noticed me, some even whistling. I ignored them and looked around with a blank expression.

Almost every table had a girl in a short dress, showing off her waist. I remembered the fleeting figure from yesterday wearing the same outfit. From their conversations, I learned these girls were called "pool babes," hired to play pool with customers.

I couldn't find the person I was looking for, and someone approached me. Fearing trouble, I quickly left.

As I was about to get into the car, I noticed a few men behind a nearby vehicle, pulling at a woman dressed as a pool babe.