They stood in a dark corner of the nightclub. Hannah, defensive, looked up at Oscar, who towered over her. His body carried the scent of alcohol and a faint trace of tobacco. She had once believed that smoking men were repulsive. In her previous life, she’d been grateful that Charles had never smoked, considering him the cleanest man in the world—uncontaminated by bad habits, eschewing alcohol, cigarettes, and gambling, and unfailingly polite. Now, she understood that some people's reprehensible behavior originated from unseen internal flaws.

Her throat tightened. She wondered what Oscar intended. This felt vastly different from their encounter in her garden earlier. Then, though angry, he hadn't been like this—this was beyond anger; he seemed dangerous. Yet, the smell of tobacco on him wasn't repulsive; instead, she sensed a uniquely masculine pheromonal aura. He was overwhelmingly captivating.

"Miss Cooper," Oscar's husky voice was seductive, "did you stretch out your tongue?"

"Huh?" Hannah was bewildered. She didn't understand.

"I said," Oscar enunciated slowly, his voice still somewhat muffled, "when you and Charles kissed tonight, did you stretch out your tongue?"

He seemed remarkably comfortable asking such a question, while Hannah felt acutely awkward.

"I don't want you to do that," Oscar continued before she could answer.

She wondered if he disliked her extending her tongue or disliked her kissing Charles. Then, she felt soft lips press against hers.

Hannah's muscles tensed. She stared at Oscar, frozen in shock. This was her closest look at him. His eyes were closed, near to hers. Observing him closely, she noted his remarkably lush eyelashes and flawless skin. She was surprised to see such features on a man. She recalled Susan's suggestion that Oscar might be gay; if true, he was arguably the most handsome gay man alive.

Initially, Oscar simply pressed his lips to hers, without further movement—two soft lips pressed together, motionless. Then, he gently parted her lips with his own. Hannah clenched her fists. The taste of alcohol lingered in his mouth, yet she felt no disgust. Despite her internal resistance, she didn't pull away, seeming almost intoxicated by the faint alcohol on his breath. She endured his relentless kiss, a long, lingering kiss.

When he finally broke the kiss, her lips were red and swollen, the tactile memory lingering. Her heart pounded erratically. Oscar's long, slender fingers gently traced her lips. His face was filled with tenderness, a stark contrast to the man she remembered. Neither the restrained, domineering Oscar of the future nor the Oscar of that moment resembled this man.

His attractive lips parted slightly. "Don't let other men touch these soft lips again," he murmured, his gentleness laced with undeniable dominance, utterly irresistible to Hannah.

It took time for her to regain her composure. Oscar truly lived up to his reputation as a veteran lover. How had he rendered her so utterly defenseless?

Finally regaining her composure, she said, "Oscar, this is just an act. To be blunt, we don't belong together."

The gentleness vanished from his face. "So, Miss Cooper, you refuse me?" His voice was cold.

"I'm simply clarifying, preventing misunderstandings," she replied.

His face darkened. Hannah tried to ignore his reaction, to disregard his emotions. "In short," she reiterated, "before or after our marriage, we shouldn't disrupt each other's lives. You can have many women; I won't interfere. But please keep your distance from me, Mr. Wells."

"So, after we marry, I can still have countless women, but I can't touch you?"

"I don't believe you'd forsake an entire forest for one crooked tree, given your lifestyle."

"You're not me. How can you know what I'm willing to do?" he challenged.

"I won't allow myself to belong to any man again," Hannah stated plainly. She would not fall in love again. The betrayal of her past life had left her deeply wary of men. Her relationship with Oscar was purely transactional; upon completion, they would part ways.

"Oscar, I'll give you a bright future!" This was her only promise; she didn't need his. As long as she didn't fall in love, she would remain invulnerable.

Oscar smiled, releasing her. In that action, she saw a surprising gentleness, a respect that Charles had always feigned.

"One day, you'll understand that a bright future isn't all I desire," Oscar said.

Hannah looked at him intently.

"What I want is…" He paused, the sentence unfinished.

He turned and left, his tall figure radiating an inexplicable aura of tolerance and loneliness. Was this another act? She decided it was unnecessary to overthink it; she wouldn't repeat the mistakes of her past life.