CHAPTER 1: CHAPTER 1: CAUGHT IN THE ACT IN THE CLASSROOM

Less than a year into their marriage, Ian Kane, who had passionately pursued her for six years and loved her as if his life depended on it, kept a mistress outside.

——

Ardendale Ballet, back door of the dance studio.

Vera Sheridan listened quietly to the sticky, moist gasps coming from inside the room, her fingertips digging deep into her palm.

Her husband, Ian Kane, was inside having an illicit affair with her student, Nina Sullivan.

"Ms. Sheridan, want to know how crazy your seemingly gentlemanly and abstinent Mr. Kane is in private? Come to Dance Studio 3." A few minutes ago, she had received such a text message.

At this moment, Vera still refused to believe it.

Ian Kane had been devoted and faithful to her for seven years, how could he cheat?

She took a step forward and knocked on the studio door.

The sounds inside abruptly stopped, and her breath was also held in suspense.

The door quickly opened, and a strong peach-scented perfume wafted over her.

Nina Sullivan emerged from behind the door, a pair of beautifully contoured long legs bare beneath a pale pink tulle skirt, no ballet tights in sight.

The girl’s cheeks were flushed, her red lips slightly swollen, her eyes languidly alluring, and she sweetly called out, "Ms. Sheridan!"

Nina Sullivan was a promising ballet talent Vera had taken under her wing and nurtured carefully three years ago, considered her successor.

Because of their resemblance, the members of the troupe called her "Little Vera."

The girl’s fingers, painted with bright red polish, casually rested on the doorframe, and a vividly green jade bracelet on her wrist stood out strikingly.

Vera recognized it at a glance; it was an imperial green jadeite of old mine glass quality.

It was exactly the same as the one Ian Kane had told her he had purchased at an auction during his business trip to Port Sterling.

Although the warm air from the central heating blew softly overhead, Vera felt as if she had fallen into an ice cave.

She struggled to keep her voice steady, "I heard you took a leave from training, so I came to check. Training alone?" As she spoke, she tried to move inside.

Nina Sullivan hurriedly blocked the door, a shy blush rising on her face, "Ms. Sheridan, my boyfriend is here, we... it’s not convenient for you to come in now."

Vera knew that Nina Sullivan had a mysterious boyfriend.

She stepped closer, and Nina closed the door altogether, "Ms. Sheridan, it’s really not convenient!"

Was it inconvenient, or was it because the man inside was indeed Ian Kane?

Vera took out her phone, dialed Ian Kane’s number, and listened carefully.

Inside the studio, everything was dead silent, without any ringing sound.

And he did not answer.

He always answered her calls immediately.

Her blood instantly ran cold.

Vera limped with her injured right foot, quickly making her way to the front door on the other side of the studio to intercept.

Memories flooded back like a tide...

It was known throughout Ardendale that Ian Kane, the heir to the Kane Group, was exceptional and unattainable, with a personal life renowned for its austerity and coldness, not indulging in romantic pursuits.

Until that performance of "Swan Lake" when he met the "White Swan" Vera Sheridan on stage.

It was love at first sight, followed by six years of passionate pursuit. Every day, white roses were flown in on time to be delivered downstairs, and at every one of her performances, a basket of flowers he personally brought would be presented.

Vera, having witnessed her father’s infidelity at a young age, and her mother’s hysterical attack on the mistress, resulting in the family collapsing, had long since lost faith in love and marriage. Coupled with their disparate backgrounds, she repeatedly rejected him.

Yet Ian Kane was undeterred, persevering against all odds.

Until that car accident. To protect her, he recklessly undid his seat belt to shield her, resulting in broken ribs that pierced his lungs, leaving him in a coma in the ICU... It was at that moment that her heart truly softened.

Vera stood at the end of the corridor, staring intently at the front door of the studio, but no one emerged.

"Wife."

A warm, familiar male voice sounded from behind her. Vera turned sharply, only to see Ian Kane walking toward her.

The man was impeccably dressed in a suit, his white shirt buttoned neatly to the top, a perfectly knotted tie, a black coat casually draped over his shoulder, maintaining his usual noble and gentle demeanor, without a hint of debauchery.

As he approached, a fresh, cool mint scent wafted up to Vera’s nose.

It was the smell of mouthwash.

He had quit smoking three months ago, and it wasn’t mealtime.

"Did you go to the office to find me just now?" she asked calmly, her sharp gaze locked onto his features.

His chiseled face remained unperturbed, and he replied warmly, "Yes. What are you doing here?"

"Checking on student training." Vera responded without any change in her tone.

Ian nodded, naturally embracing her as they walked out of the ballet company and got into the Rolls-Royce Phantom parked under the plane trees.

As they settled in, he prepared a cup of warm brown sugar ginger tea and handed it to her.

He had a special app on his phone, recording all her physiological cycles; her period was due in a couple of days.

Seeing the always considerate Ian in front of her, Vera was momentarily dazed.

A slight smile crept onto her face, and she asked casually, "Mr. Kane, where’s the bracelet you bid for me?"

Her fingers, however, tightly clung to the cool silver thermos cup.

Ian lifted the corner of his mouth, took out a royal blue velvet jewelry box from his coat pocket, and opened it.

Inside lay a fully green, radiant jade bracelet.

Vera was stunned.

The man in the classroom...wasn’t him?

Ian took her hand and put it on her wrist.

The warmth of his fingertips skimmed over her wrist bone as he admired it, the light in his eyes flickering with praise: "Only this top-quality jade matches the beauty of my wife."

The finest imperial green from the old pit glass type jade set off her skin, making it appear even more translucent and fair.

Vera regained her composure, her tone flat: "It is indeed beautiful. Coincidentally, my student Nina Sullivan also has one that looks exactly like this."

Ian raised an eyebrow, a confident curve on his lips: "You must be mistaken. How could an auction piece have a second one?"

His expression was flawless.

A faint glimmer of hope ignited in Vera’s heart.

Could it really be that she saw it wrong?

And that message...who played that prank?

The Phantom drove into the villa district for wealthy individuals and stopped in front of a standalone villa.

Vera was carefully helped out of the car by Ian—three months ago, Ian was in danger in the mountains, and she braved the rain to search and rescue him, accidentally slipping down a slope, severely injuring her ankle, and leaving it impaired.

Upon entering the foyer, the housekeeper Maeve greeted them: "Madam, you received a package today; I signed for it on your behalf."

Ian handed his coat to Maeve, carelessly loosening his tie, his gaze falling on Vera with a hint of curious and doting smile: "My wife still needs to shop online? What good things did you buy?"

Vera was slightly taken aback, casually replying, "It was sent by Maeve Holloway, a special edition of her new book." Maeve Holloway was her best friend, a renowned emotional healing blogger with millions of followers.

Ian nodded, "I’ll head upstairs for a shower; I picked up a bit of a scent from the journey."

Vera also picked up the package and returned to her room.

After marriage, they had always been living in separate rooms.

Opening the package, she found a black lace nightgown, sexy and provocative, completely different from her usual style.

At that moment, her phone vibrated again, and a new message popped up:

"Ms. Sheridan, with your cold and unemotional nature, and refusing to let Mr. Kane even hold you, no wonder he’d have an affair." It was from an anonymous number again.

The words "psychological issues" pierced Vera’s heart like needles.

Yes, she had issues.

It’s almost been a year since the wedding, and she still hasn’t shared a bed with Ian.

Even intimate physical contact would trigger physiological nausea, trembling, and cold sweats.

Last Friday, Maeve Holloway had conducted the latest psychological evaluation for her. The results were positive, encouraging her to attempt initiating intimate contact with Ian.

This nightgown was precisely what she bought online two days ago, intending to surprise him upon his return from the business trip.

...

After his shower, Ian came to her room.

Vera was standing by the wardrobe.

The white high-collared knit sweater accentuated her slender right-angled shoulders, her long hair tied up, and her elegant neck supported a face of exquisite cold beauty, pure and untouched.

The man’s Adam’s apple moved silently, as he pushed the door and entered.

Vera turned around at the sound.

Ian, wearing a dark blue bathrobe, walked towards her with long strides.

The V-shaped neckline slightly parted, revealing the defined outline of his pectoral muscles, along with faint scars from an old car accident.

He stopped before her, his towering figure entirely enveloping her.

Warm hands cradled her face, deep black eyes filled with unabashed desire.

His handsome face slowly descended, breath approaching.