“Really?” Asher asked excitedly as he took the glass.

“But,” I added, “my standards for a partner are pretty high.”

Asher immediately responded, “Grace, I can do anything for you.”

“Really?”

“Really!” Asher was so excited that he accidentally spilled some water on his white shirt, soaking it.

His muscles were instantly outlined under the wet fabric.

Panicking, he quickly grabbed a tissue to wipe himself off.

But I stopped his hand and poured the rest of the water onto his chest.

Now, the muscles on his chest and abdomen were fully exposed.

Startled, he tried to stand up, but I pushed him back down onto the sofa.

I placed my hand on his chest, leaning closer as I said, “Didn’t you say you’d do anything for me? Actually, I wasn’t completely satisfied with your last painting.”

“Huh?” Asher looked at me nervously.

“You didn’t paint enough. You only painted my face, but not my body. Honestly, my body is even more beautiful than my face. Do you want to see it?”

I watched as his face gradually turned red, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

“Grace…” His voice had turned hoarse.

I leaned in closer to his ear and whispered seductively, “Haven’t you always wanted to paint the most beautiful version of me? Well, you’d better take a good, long look.”

Asher suddenly grabbed my waist and pressed me against his wet chest, his voice thick with desire as he said, “Grace, you’re driving me insane.”

He lifted me and carried me to the bed.

At that moment, my need for revenge against Christopher was more satisfying than ever.

The stamina of a young man was remarkable—he wore me out for most of the night, yet was still full of energy, ready to get up and paint.

I pretended to be annoyed, and only then did he stop.

Before he finally drifted off to sleep, he murmured, “Grace’s body… it really is the most beautiful.”

The next morning, I woke up early, as usual.