In this world, few things could drive men to madness quite like women.
For ninety percent of men, faced with a charming, proactive woman radiating allure, the first instinct was to lose themselves in her embrace.
Betty embodied this truth to perfection.
Her exposed, maternal demeanor seemed innocent on the surface, exuding a glow of nurturing care. Yet beneath it lay a calculated allure designed to ensnare.
When Miles entered, Betty leaned forward with exaggerated grace and gratitude.
"Mr. Miles, thank you so much for saving my child," she said.
Still feeding her baby, she hadn't bothered to put on a bra. As she bent forward, her ample assets spilled free, bouncing slightly with her motion.
"Oh my!"
Betty pretended to panic, clutching her chest in a feigned attempt to cover herself. Her fingers fumbled theatrically with the buttons of her blouse, her cheeks flushing with just the right shade of pink.
Anyone could see through her charade.
"Hmph," Lisa huffed coldly.
Her glare spoke volumes: So much for being a gentleman, huh?
Wasn't there some code about not coveting your friend's woman? Yet here Miles was, clearly unbothered by Betty's antics.
Miles ignored Lisa's silent judgment, his tone calm and affable.
"Sorry about that, Betty. Just got back and didn't realize you were here."
"Oh no, it's my fault," Betty stammered, her voice trembling with coy hesitation. "I was so focused on feeding the baby… I completely forgot myself."
Her feigned embarrassment, paired with her sultry demeanor, tugged at unspoken desires.
The infamous saying about mature women being the pinnacle of femininity echoed in Miles' mind. Ah, so true.
"Well," Miles said with a faint smile, "if that's all, you should head back now. Ryan's probably waiting for dinner."
Dismissed, Betty placed her sleeping child back in its crib, casting a longing glance around the villa before reluctantly departing.
Once she was gone, Lisa made her move.
Emerging from the next room in a sleek black bikini, she sauntered toward Miles, barefoot and deliberate.
"Isn't it freezing for that?" Miles quipped, though his gaze lingered on her figure. The fabric barely concealed what needed covering, leaving little to his imagination.
The art of allure, he realized, lay in what was left unseen. Lisa, it seemed, had mastered this effortlessly.
Smiling coyly, she stepped closer.
"Bet your eyes had quite the feast earlier, huh? Tell me, Miles—who looked better? Her or me?"
Miles chuckled.
Jealousy, it seemed, brought out a fiery side of Lisa.
Feigning deep contemplation, he rested his chin on his hand.
"They're incomparable," he teased. "Betty has the charm of maturity. You, on the other hand, are pure youth and fire."
"Hmph. So you do want to try her out then?" Lisa pouted, giving his arm a playful pinch, though her grip lacked any real malice.
"Try her? She's got nothing I need to try," Miles replied, swiftly untying the black lace at her back.
Lisa's chest heaved free, her flushed cheeks betraying a mixture of embarrassment and satisfaction.
"You're insufferable," she muttered, half-heartedly covering herself. Yet instead of retreating, she straightened, daring him to look.
"Seize the day," Miles murmured, sweeping her into his arms.
Lisa didn't resist.
Afterward, the pair lay tangled on the sofa, a warm blanket draped over them.
Lisa, her cheeks glowing, traced lazy circles on his chest with a finger. But her thoughts soon darkened.
"That Betty is outrageous," she muttered. "She was clearly trying to seduce you earlier. Don't tell me you didn't notice."
Miles smirked.
"Still upset, are we?"
"And I'll stay upset," Lisa huffed. Her voice softened, but her words were sharp. "She's just trying to worm her way in here. She's Ryan's woman, for heaven's sake! What if—"
Lisa trailed off, her fingers stilling.
The possessiveness in her voice betrayed her growing attachment. It wasn't just desire; she'd begun to fall for him.
Miles, staring out the window, spoke softly.
"Of course, I see what she's doing. But the more you engage with people like her, the more emboldened they become. Best to let her dig her own grave."
"So you're just going to let her run wild?" Lisa snapped, her tone tinged with disbelief.
Miles chuckled.
"To destroy something, you first let it grow unchecked," he said, his gaze distant. "Ryan's not a fool. He's clinging to the past right now, but eventually, he'll see her for what she is."
Later, Miles climbed to the second-floor observatory.
Setting up the AW50 sniper rifle he'd found earlier, he peered through its powerful scope.
The world zoomed into sharp focus.
Structures that seemed miles away now appeared close enough to touch. Every detail, from frost-laden rooftops to cracked walls, came into view.
Adjusting the angle, Miles scanned the neighborhood. A sudden movement caught his eye.
In A District, a group of figures crept between the buildings.
Through the scope, he identified Anthony and his lackeys.
"Shouldn't they be out hunting zombies?" Miles muttered.
Anthony and his group stopped outside a C District villa. Two of the men kicked open a window and slipped inside.
Moments later, a figure darted through the shadows—a woman.
Her pale skin and elegant silhouette stood out even in the dim light.
Anthony moved swiftly, rummaging through the home before dragging the struggling woman toward the bedroom.
Miles frowned as the scene unfolded.
Even in -50°C weather, these bastards can't keep their pants on?
The woman fought back, her mouth moving as though crying for help. But no one would come.
Anthony, grinning lecherously, threw her onto the bed and buried her under a pile of blankets before stripping off his heavy coat.
The woman, desperate, bolted upright—directly into Miles' crosshairs.
"Holy—" Miles sat bolt upright, his jaw tightening in shock.
It was her.
Among the scattered stars of Cloud Heights, most were fleeting guests, flitting between cities for work. Miles had never crossed paths with any of them—until now.
The woman was unmistakably Nicole, one of the actresses he had always admired.