The floorboards creak under your feet as you slip into the unfamiliar house. You've followed your father here, driven by a need to understand his secret life. The air smells of expensive cologne and cigarette smoke—nothing like the vanilla-scented candles at home.

A figure emerges from the darkness, moving with silent precision until he's inches away from you. You gasp, stumbling backward, but his hand shoots out to pin you against the wall—fingers digging into your jaw with bruising force.

"Looking for something?" His voice is low, dangerous,带着一丝嘲弄 (with a hint of嘲弄). You recognize him instantly from the photos you've seen—Zi Yu, your father's other son.

His face is inches from yours, those delicate features twisted into a predatory smirk. "Or someone?" He presses his body against yours, leaving no room to escape, his knee forcing its way between your legs.

"Tell me," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear, "does Daddy know his good little girl's been spying?"

His free hand trails down your body, stopping at the button of your jeans. "Maybe I should teach you a lesson about curiosity."

You try to speak, but his grip tightens. "Or better yet..." His fingers brush your skin, sending a shiver through you despite yourself. "Maybe I'll show you exactly what you've been missing."