My Fiancé Filmed Desire for Another Woman

A week before the wedding, Anya Laurent received an anonymous email. The moment she opened the link, the blinding images made her forget how to breathe. It led to a website called Eden Room, filled with explicit videos of men and women in intimate acts. Every person on screen wore an animal mask. Against a pitch-black backdrop, their intertwined bodies moved in ways so obscene it was almost unbearable to look at. She slammed the page shut in panic, but the last image burned itself into her vision. The top trending video showed a man in a fox mask. His jawline, his build, even the sound of his breathing were all exactly like Adrian Vale. The conference room fell into complete silence. The investors' expressions darkened. "Ms. Laurent, are you all right?" Anya forced her breathing to steady. She pulled together a strained smile and continued her report. But unease and doubt only grew stronger inside her. After the meeting, she immediately asked for leave and went home. The moment she reopened the link, she placed a trembling hand over her three-month pregnancy and called Adrian. Inside the Eden Room livestream, a familiar ringtone suddenly rang out. The man in the fox mask only glanced at it before tossing the phone aside. His movements did not stop; in fact, they became even more intense, driving the woman in the rabbit mask beneath him to the edge of collapse. The livestream went on for four hours. Anya watched it all in rigid silence until she could no longer even stand. But when the camera briefly swept across the man's lower abdomen, she suddenly felt a strange relief. There was no scar. It wasn't Adrian. She would never mistake the scar on Adrian's body. Never. Moments later, she heard movement at the entrance. Adrian walked in. His expression was cool and composed. His crisp shirt showed no wrinkles, nothing like the wild, unrestrained man from the video. He came up to her and smiled gently. "Sorry, Ani. I was busy all day and didn't check my phone. Did you need me for something?" Anya quickly closed her laptop like a guilty child. "Nothing. I just wanted to ask what time you'd be home." She kept reassuring herself. That wasn't Adrian. He loved her too much to ever cheat. When she was diagnosed with kidney failure years ago, he had hidden it from his family and donated his kidney without hesitation. When he woke up after the surgery, the first thing he said was, "Ani, I just want you to live." That scar was proof of it, proof of his love for her. More than that, Adrian was fastidious and almost ascetic. A previous secretary once brushed against his hand with her chest and was immediately blacklisted across the entire industry. He even soaked his hand in disinfectant for an hour afterward. Even when Anya clung to him sometimes, he would only pull her away helplessly and say, "Little greedy cat, don't be so clingy." He despised any physical contact from other women; so how could a man like him possibly be involved with a stranger in something so depraved? "Ani, what are you thinking about?" Adrian handed her a glass of milk. He was loosely wearing a bathrobe, his well-built frame half exposed. The images she had seen earlier resurfaced in her mind, and unease crept back in. The mattress dipped beside her as he sat down and wrapped his arms around her from behind. "Sleep early. It's good for the baby." Anya turned and reached for his lower abdomen. The scar was still there. The tension she had carried all day finally eased. Adrian kissed her forehead. "Why do you keep touching this scar? Do you think it's ugly?" "No," Anya said, slipping into his arms. "Adrian, I love you." He paused for a moment, then let out a low laugh and tightened his embrace. "I love you too, Ani. Only you. In seven days, you'll become my bride. So rest well these days, and make sure you wear your wedding dress at your most beautiful." Anya smiled and closed her eyes. Maybe the man in the video just happened to look like Adrian. Maybe she was overthinking because of her pregnancy. But in the middle of the night, she suddenly woke up. The bed beside her was empty. Adrian's slippers were at the entrance; he had gone out. Her heart began to pound violently. Almost instinctively, she rushed to the computer. Fox Mask went live again, still with Bunny Mask, still locked in that intense, almost desperate closeness, as if the rest of the world no longer existed. Even through the mask, Fox Mask's eyes burned with unmistakable excitement. They changed positions again and again until both were completely exhausted. Anya stared at Fox Mask's abdomen, her gaze unblinking. Beneath the lights, the scar was impossible to miss. This time, the audio had been distorted. The woman's voice turned soft and coquettish. "I hate that scar most of all, the one you kept for another woman. You refuse to remove it, and I have to cover it with concealer every time." Fox Mask let out a soft laugh and leaned down to kiss her. "Isn't the Westbrook Villa enough compensation for you?" "It's not enough," Bunny Mask said sweetly. "Unless you promise that on your wedding day in seven days, we do it again. I'll be your bridesmaid anyway. No one will suspect anything." Fox Mask fell silent. Bunny Mask trembled and tried to pull away, aggrieved, but he suddenly yanked her back into his arms. "Alright. I'll do as you say."