Chapter 1
I pushed the floor scrubber through the 68th-floor corridor of Grant Tower, cleaning the floors.
At that moment, the VIP elevator at the end of the hallway suddenly opened.
A group of bodyguards in black suits surrounded a man and escorted him toward the elevator.
That man was the owner of Grant Group, Arthur Grant.
As he walked, he cursed coldly, "My son refuses to drink milk again? Then what use are all those wet nurses?"
Arthur had just stepped into the elevator when the bodyguards had not yet had time to follow him inside. Suddenly, all the lights around us went out.
The power had gone out.
Mansfield's power grid was terrible and often had problems whenever there were heavy storms.
In the darkness, I panicked and accidentally tripped over the floor scrubber's power cord.
I lost my balance, fell forward, and crashed directly into the elevator.
Bang.
The elevator doors closed behind me.
The emergency lights came on.
I was lying on the floor, my whole body aching.
As soon as I opened my eyes, I saw a pair of black leather shoes standing in front of me.
"Who's there?"
I shuddered in fear and tried to get up from the floor.
But my hand accidentally landed on his shoe.
I immediately pulled it back and apologized in a panic, "I'm sorry, Mr. Grant. I'm a cleaner. The power went out just now."
Before I could finish speaking, the clasp of my chest binder suddenly snapped open.
Warm liquid immediately spilled out of control, quickly spreading into a large wet patch on my blue uniform.
The milky scent also grew stronger and stronger, filling the elevator.
I had suffered from constant breast pain and swelling for years, and I produced a large amount of milk every day.
Even the doctors could not explain the reason. They only said it was some kind of strange illness.
I heard Arthur softly sniff.
He slowly crouched down.
The next second, he grabbed my chin with two fingers and forced me to look up.
I saw his eyes.
They were a pair of gray-blue eyes, cold like a frozen lake, deep and dangerous.
He frowned and asked me, "What is that smell on you?"
I shook my head desperately, trying to break free from his hand.
"Nothing, sir. I need to get back to work."
But he ignored me completely.
With a ripping sound, he tore open the collar of my uniform.
He stared at my soaked chest, not blinking once.
His Adam's apple moved slightly.
The way he looked at me was like a wolf that had been starving for a long time, finally seeing its prey.
Then he reached out, pressed against my chest, and kneaded and squeezed repeatedly.
The milk suddenly sprayed out, splashing onto his glasses.
