Perfect Socialite, Cruelest Lover

Thanks to the paparazzi sneakily taking a photo of Caitlin Randall in her swimwear, she's been rated as the most perfect woman in Lunbury for seven years in a row.

Countless men who wish to bed her can line up to the moon and back.

The thing is, everyone knows that Caitlin only favors me, the deaf man who stays by her side all the time.

When I was 18, I blew out my eardrums when I was saving Caitlin from danger. Since then, I can no longer hear the sounds and voices coming from the external world.

Whenever we're passionately entangled with each other in bed, Caitlin will always kiss my ears with red-rimmed eyes. But I can never hear what she tells me every time.

That is, until the night of Caitlin's birthday, when she blindfolds me and tells me that she wants to play a game. That's when I can finally hear her voice.

"Let's play something spicy, Terry."

Caitlin ties me up and convinces me to drink some alcohol. When the lashing heat pooling in my gut threatens to break me down, I'm so close to telling the truth to Caitlin—that my hearing is restored.

"Ms. Randall, the people and the tools are ready. Are you sure you want to do this to Mr. Boyer?"

When I hear the robotic voice coming from Caitlin's earpiece, I freeze up immediately.

But at that moment, she has already injected me with a dose of sedatives.

"Be a good boy, Terry. Everything will still be fine when you're asleep."

Before I could even process it, the drug had already taken effect, and I drifted into a heavy, groggy sleep.

A searing pain tore through my body. By the time I woke up, I was already dressed and lying in bed.

I shifted slightly, and a piercing pain shot through my lower body instantly.

The words I had just heard kept echoing in my mind. As I realized what might have happened, the color drained from my face bit by bit.

As the Randall family's only daughter, Caitlin Randall grew up in the lap of luxury without ever lifting a finger. She even had her own personal butler, Henry Weaver, to help her get dressed.

But when it came to anything concerning me, she always insisted on doing it herself.

Maybe I really did mishear just now. After all, didn't Dr. Alan Morse tell me that my hearing could be a bit impaired right after recovery?

Besides, the person Caitlin hated most in her life was Shane Tate, so how could they possibly still have anything going on between them?

"Caitlin, have you lost your mind? Even if you wanted someone to take the fall for the scandal of Shane being raped, you didn't have to actually have those men sexually assault Terry. How is he supposed to live with himself once he finds out?"

From inside the study came the hushed, furious voice of Caitlin's best friend, Leona Lambert.