Drunk and Married to My Best Friend's Brother

Kylie Miller had been a quintessential good girl for over twenty years.

Her only two outrageous actions were agreeing to her best friend Mina Hall's request to pursue her twin brother, and getting drunk and hiring a "male prostitute", which resulted in them having sex.

When she sobered up, not only had she inexplicably married the "male prostitute", but she had also let him move in.

Mina was furious, convinced that Kylie had fallen into a trap.

However, Kylie looked at the bank card balance her husband had given her.

The balance was so high she could hardly believe it. Kylie wondered—were male prostitutes all this driven these days?

He not only traveled all over the country on business trips, but also had to attend shareholder meetings. Even in his busy schedule, he wouldn't forget to ask her for sex.

Wait a minute. At the belated family gathering, why was her husband so familiar with Mina?

...

Kylie awoke from her drunken stupor in the late afternoon.

Twenty-two years of being a good girl hadn't prepared her for the aftermath of her first hangover, leaving her feeling dazed.

But a cool voice quickly snapped her back to reality.

"Quite the sleeper, aren't you?" The pleasant sound seemed like a sigh, yet also carried a hint of teasing.

Kylie tilted her head slightly before meeting the inscrutable gaze of the person in front of her.

Memories flooded back, and Kylie blushed uncontrollably.

The dazzling lights of the nightclub last night made her feel a little dizzy, especially since Kylie was already drunk and her eyes were blurry.

She vaguely recalled waiting for hours, anger boiling when she realized she'd been stood up, impulsively hiring a male prostitute.

The man who arrived was dressed in a well-tailored black suit, and his height still felt intimidating to Kylie, who was not short.

His features were striking, though his eyes were a bit too cold when they glanced over.

Fueled by alcohol, Kylie's courage surged. The more indifferent the man was, the more she wanted to win him over.

Kylie vaguely remembered that when she took out the wad of banknotes from her bag and slammed them on the table, the male prostitute raised an eyebrow.

"Is this enough to make you my sugar baby?" she slurred, unaware of the industry's jargon, her bravado quickly faltering.

Fortunately, the man only frowned briefly, pocketed the cash, and sat beside her.

That was his agreement.

Emboldened, Kylie grasped his hand.

His hands were strong and slightly cool. He paused for a few seconds, then interlocked his fingers with hers.

The memory that followed made Kylie blush with embarrassment.

She only remembered that she had boldly downed several drinks, and then, feigning sophistication, "half-forced" the man to drink as well, even more than she did. Therefore, she had no recollection of how she stumbled into the hotel in a drunken state, or of having sex with him.

She vaguely remembered that they had sex until dawn, and