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"Would you like to go in?" "Hold on." Sienna Winger had been standing outside the half-closed private room door for quite a while now. Deafening music, men's unrestrained laughter, and women's syrupy voices continuously seeped out from inside. Tim Cluncy, the manager of the club, stood half a step behind her, hunched at the waist and so nervous that he barely dared to breathe. He really had no idea what this "Mrs. Hale" was trying to do. If she was here to catch her husband cheating, then why wasn't she going in? And if she was heartbroken about things, she seemed awfully calm instead, only staring unblinkingly at the scene inside the private room. Under the crystal chandelier, a group of wealthy young men was each accompanied by a sexy, curvaceous woman. Some were drinking, some were chatting, and some even openly groped their companions. Sienna's husband of three years, Clayton Hale, was no exception. He lounged lazily on the couch in the center of the room, his long legs crossed and a cigarette pinched between his fingers. Wisps of smoke veiled his handsome features. A woman in a fiery red dress sat flush against him, completely unbothered by the secondhand smoke. "Mr. Hale… You're so young, so capable, and so handsome," Valentina Cruz cooed. "You can't possibly be married yet, right?" Clayton raised an eyebrow. The hand holding the cigarette lifted slightly, and the platinum wedding band on his finger caught the light, glimmering faintly. "What do you think?" he asked, his voice low and deep, giving away no emotion. "Oh, you're so mean," Valentina said with a feigned pout. Her gaze landed on his wedding ring, and she playfully swatted his arm. Giggling, she asked, "Then… is your wife as pretty as me?" Clayton took a drag, exhaled slowly, and glanced sideways at Valentina with a barely-there smirk on his face. "What? You want to be my wife?" Seemingly encouraged, Valentina spoke more boldly. "Mr. Hale, I wouldn't mind just being your… good friend." The room immed
