Hannah was pinned beneath Oscar. The lust in his eyes was undisguised. Subconsciously, she clutched the bed sheet, hesitant to resist. The room's temperature was rising, the distance between them shrinking. So close that a slight movement of her face would have resulted in a kiss. Oscar was already kissing her soft cheeks.

"Oscar, it's just a sham marriage," Hannah said, striving to remain calm.

"So…" Oscar looked intently into her eyes.

"We don't belong to each other," Hannah reminded him.

"Then who do you belong to?" he asked, withdrawing from her cheek and staring at her.

"I belong to myself. Master Wells, please let go of me." She used this title when angry with him.

"What if I say no?" Oscar's voice held a hint of anger. "I did so much today to get into your pants. Do you think I'll let you go?" Hannah felt his warm breath on her face.

She should have known he was a playboy; swindling a woman like this was typical. She should have realized she could only control her feelings within the confines of their fake marriage, but might fail to avoid physical contact. If Oscar intended to proceed, she would have no strength to resist. But she wasn't going to lose anything. He'd thrown her a lavish wedding and helped her triumph over Charles and his family. Given his efforts, surrendering her body wasn't a great sacrifice, especially considering his attractive physique and handsome face. At least, he would be a good sexual partner.

This thought prompted her to put her arms around his neck, a gesture of consent. But then, Oscar got up. Hannah stared at him, puzzled. He turned and said, before leaving, "Hannah… you only belong to me."

A sigh of relief escaped Hannah when he left. She hadn't anticipated a sexual relationship with Oscar; it would have created complications, like affections. Her rebirth was solely for revenge and independence; nothing else mattered.

Attempting to remove her wedding dress, Hannah found the task impossible alone. She couldn't simply rip it; it was incredibly expensive, perhaps invaluable. After struggling, she gave up and decided to seek Oscar's help.

Finding him in his room, wrapped in a white bath towel that seemed poised to slip, Hannah, though tempted, concealed her feelings. "Can't you put something on?" she asked.

After teasing her, Oscar donned a royal blue silk robe, tying it loosely, revealing his chest. It was an improvement over near-nakedness. She didn't want to argue.

"I can't take this off," she said honestly. "Can you help me contact the makeup artist who applied it? I need her assistance."

"I don't have her number."

"Who does, then?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know? Who planned the wedding?"

"Me."

"Then how could you not know her number?"

"Why would I keep it?"

"Don't you need it to communicate with her?"

"I can just talk to her in person."

Hannah stared blankly, speechless.

"You know I only like to talk to women in person…"

"Fine," Hannah interrupted. She would sleep in the dress. Further bickering with Oscar would drive her mad. She turned to leave.

"I know how to remove it," Oscar said.

Hannah was taken aback, hesitant to trust him.

"It's fine if you don't want to take it off."

But who would want to sleep in it? It would be stuffy and uncomfortable.

"Thank you in advance," she said.

"Come on in," Oscar said, opening the door.

"Can't we do this here?" she thought. Why enter his room? "What if Master Wells suddenly comes up? Well, I don't mind though…"

Gritting her teeth, Hannah entered. It appeared to be a guest room; Oscar had given her his master bedroom.