The lights of the annual company gala were almost blindingly bright.
Zhou Wanqing, like a proud peacock, clung to my arm, her body practically pressed against mine. She wore the evening gown I had personally selected for her—a backless design that perfectly showcased the butterfly bones she took such pride in.
From the moment we stepped into the hall, she was the center of attention.
Countless eyes were glued to her, a mixture of awe, jealousy, and undisguised desire. She reveled in it, her chin held high, her posture poised. Every step she took was a graceful sway.
I knew that deep down, she yearned for a stage far grander and more dazzling than this.
And I was the one who would hand her the ticket.
Mr. Zhao of Spotlight Media stood in the center of a crowd, pot-bellied, his laughter booming. Carrying two glasses of champagne, I led Zhou Wanqing and walked straight toward him.
"Mr. Zhao, I've heard so much about you," I said, offering him a glass of champagne. My expression was a carefully crafted mix of humility and warmth.
Mr. Zhao's eyes flickered over my face for less than a second before landing squarely on Zhou Wanqing. His gaze was so greasy it felt like it could drip oil as he shamelessly sized her up from head to toe.
"And this is?"
"This is my wife, Zhou Wanqing." I gently pushed her forward, my voice laced with a note of helpless self-deprecation. "She's always dreamed of being a star, but unfortunately, I don't have the means to give her what she wants. Bringing her here to meet a man of your stature is the best I can do to help her."
My speech was perfectly delivered. It flattered Mr. Zhao while casting me in the role of the devoted "good husband," willing to sacrifice for his wife's dream.
Zhou Wanqing took her cue instantly, flashing Mr. Zhao a smile that was both sweet and alluring. "Hello, Mr. Zhao. I'm Wanqing. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Mr. Zhao's eyes brightened. He took the hand she offered but didn't let go, instead stroking the back of it with his thumb. "Miss Zhou, you are truly a beauty. You don't look like someone from outside our world at all."
"I've always wanted to be an actress, but I've never had the right connections," Zhou Wanqing replied smoothly, her voice a delicate lilt tinged with just the right amount of sorrow and hope.
I watched them, a silent observer to their exchange—a suggestive glance from him, an instant understanding from her. It was like watching a well-rehearsed play unfold.
And I, her "husband," was the perfect backdrop.
Soon, Zhou Wanqing and Mr. Zhao had exchanged contact information. They fell into an animated conversation, leaving me completely ignored. She was ecstatic, the delight in her eyes practically spilling out.
When their conversation finally ended, she turned and threw herself into my arms. In front of everyone, she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips forcefully against mine.
"Darling! You're the best! Mr. Zhao says he has a role that's perfect for me!"
A wave of good-natured laughter and whistles erupted from those around us.
I returned her smile, my arm circling her waist, playing the part of the most devoted couple in the world.
But the moment her lips met mine, all I felt was a wave of physical revulsion.
It was as if the stale scent of Mr. Zhao's liquor and cigarettes from their earlier toast still lingered on them.
I made an excuse and headed to the restroom alone.
I twisted the faucet, letting the cold water run over my hands. I leaned over the sink, rinsing my mouth again and again. Then, I scrubbed my lips harshly with the back of my hand until my skin was red and stinging.
In the mirror, my face was pale, but my eyes were ice-cold.
Disgust churned in my stomach, threatening to rise in my throat.
I gripped the sides of the sink, staring at my reflection, and forced a twisted smile.
Zhou Wanqing, this is only the first step.
Everything you want, I will give you.
And then, I will watch you destroy it all with your own two hands.