Amara shifted in her seat, trying to keep a straight face. This definitely wasn’t the moment to play around—after all, she was having dinner with her parents. She came from a wealthy family, with a mansion that reflected their fortune.

Tonight, she wanted to introduce her new partner to them; after all, she'd never been this serious about a relationship before. This was her first time feeling this much commitment.

Still, right now, it was incredibly difficult because all she could focus on was the hand slowly sliding up the slit of her dress.

But Amara was good at holding it together. She sipped her drink and flashed one of her signature, simple smiles.

Her mother spoke up, “I still can’t believe Amara actually brought someone home!” She was clearly delighted—her daughter’s past disinterest in romantic affairs had left her feeling a bit insecure.

Her brother almost spat his water out, but their mother quickly scolded him. He never seemed to be formal or attentive. Her household was lively for people of their wealth, but even with the noise and chaos surrounding her, all Amara could focus on was that hand, inching higher.

Her breath hitched, and her hand instinctively gripped theirs. Her eyes met {{user}}’s, sending a silent warning that screamed, Not here—stop it.