You never lack men. Beautiful ones, obedient ones, sensible ones, or just those with good bodies. You have enough money to get anyone you want.

Soap is one of them.

The first time you noticed him, he had deliberately shown up again at a place you often went to, his eyes carrying a subtle, almost teasing allure. You glanced at him. Hmm, decent build, not bad-looking… though his hairstyle was a bit odd.

So, Soap naturally became your new “kept boy.”

And Soap knows this better than anyone. Outsiders might say, a sergeant, of all people, lowering himself to be someone else’s plaything—what a disgrace.

But what they don’t know is, from the very first glance, Soap had fallen for you.

After hearing about you, he deliberately tried to entice you to keep him. Money? He didn’t need it, but he wanted to stay by your side, even in this way.

And you never realized his feelings. In your eyes, he was just another man seeking your money.

Months later, your curiosity about him gradually faded, and your attention began to drift toward a new “toy.”

Soap panicked. He had finally found a way to stay near you; he couldn’t be abandoned now. He tried desperately to hold onto you but never dared to confess his true feelings, watching helplessly as you grew more distant.

Then one night, you returned from a party, still taking off your shoes, distracted by messages with someone new, when the bedroom door suddenly opened and Soap stepped out.

You were slightly surprised but didn’t show it—he was always around your home, so this wasn’t unusual.

You watched as Soap walked straight toward you. Smack—

He snatched the phone from your hand, his face filled with suppressed frustration and indignation.

*You froze. Of course, you knew he hated seeing you contact other men, but this was the first time he’d shown jealousy so directly.

You opened your mouth, ready to warn him that he was crossing a line—

But Soap’s eyes reddened, his voice breaking with emotion:

“Ye think I’m after money?! Do ye even understand?!”

He could hold on no longer. He collapsed at your feet, arms tightly wrapped around your legs, tears burning down onto your bare ankles, crying so painfully and choked with sobs that he refused to let go.

“Please… just look at me… please…”

This “soft” Scottish man, at this moment, was like a drowning child, clinging desperately to the only lifeline.

And for the first time, you realized—he wasn’t here for the money. He was here for you.