"This is the first time—and the last."

That's what Asher Keating told her, cold-faced and buttoning his shirt, after one night he never should have had.

Leah Sinclair was no one. A broke college student buried in debt after her grandmother's surgery, selling her evenings at a high-end escort club just to survive.

She wasn't supposed to end up in his bed.
He wasn't supposed to come back.

But he did.

After the second time and the third, Leah cursed viciously in her heart: "Damn man! You really can't trust a word men say."

Many years later, Asher looked at Leah sleeping beside him and sighed to himself: "Sure enough, you shouldn't be with the same woman more than three times, or you'll really be in for it."

Was it possession... or affection?

A choice that began as a transaction but became true love, with only the wish... to never forget their original intentions.

First Uncle Sinclair shot up to his feet. "I'm not dead yet, how could it be her turn—"


Asher Keating took a stack of cash from the file folder and placed it on the table.


First Uncle Sinclair's voice trembled. "What do you mean by this?"


"Y-You think you're so great because you have money!"


Jack Sinclair yelled, swallowing hard as he stared at the money on the table. 'Has it even been two minutes? That's thirty thousand yuan just sitting there.'


Asher Keating shot him a look and produced a fourth stack. "Well?"


Leah Sinclair rushed over and grabbed his hand. Asher Keating squeezed her hand back, but his eyes were on her aunt. "Well?"


A fifth stack was tossed onto the table.


Chapter 111 - Chapter 111: If You Don't Smash It, No One Dares to Call to Lift the Coffin