I was scrolling through a forum online when a headline caught my eye: 【What do you do when your boss wants your wife?】 The top-voted comment was pure filth: 【Easy. Drop something in her drink. Let him have his fun. She won’t remember a thing in the morning.】 It was so disgusting I flagged the post. Then, that evening, my husband wrapped his arms around me. “Honey,” he whispered into my hair. “I was thinking of having my boss over for dinner this weekend. Would that be okay?” 1 The words buzzed in my skull, a low, angry hum. What were the odds? I forced myself to swallow, to push my heart back down from my throat where it was trying to escape. I leaned back slightly to look at my husband, Ethan, and knitted my brows. “Why here? Can’t you just take him to a restaurant?” Ethan’s arms tightened around my waist, his tone a smooth, reasonable balm. “Babe, I’m on the shortlist for the director position. This is the final push. Being seen out in public could look like I’m trying too hard, you know? A colleague might see, and it could get weird. At home, it’s private. We can actually talk.” He nuzzled my neck. “Besides, Rich has had every five-star meal you can imagine. He keeps talking about wanting something authentic, a real home-cooked meal. And your cooking? I have complete faith in you, honey.” He pulled away just enough to look me in the eyes, his own earnest and wide. “This dinner… it’s basically an audition. A test. Rich is huge on family, on stability. If he sees how happy we are, how solid our marriage is, that director role is as good as mine.” When I just pursed my lips, not answering, Ethan held up a single finger. “Babe. The annual salary for this job starts with this number.” My eyes widened. “Three hundred thousand?” A smug, satisfied smile spread across his face. “And that’s before bonuses and stock options. Lily, with that money, we could pay off the mortgage in a few years. We could finally start talking seriously about having a baby.” I felt a crack in my resolve. He was right. We had just bought this house, and the mortgage was an anchor around our necks. Every month, our paychecks came in and went straight to the bank. We were scraping by, the dream of starting a family pushed further and further into the future. If he got this promotion, we could finally breathe. I stared hard into Ethan’s eyes, searching for a flicker, a single tell that something was wrong. “Just Mr. Hayes? No one else?” Ethan’s smile didn’t waver. “Of course. I’m not an idiot. Why would I share a chance to get this close to the boss with anyone else?” He frowned then, a look of genuine confusion clouding his features. “Lily, what’s wrong? You’ve always been my biggest supporter when it comes to my career.” His expression was flawless. The words were perfectly logical. Was I being paranoid? Was that disgusting forum post just a horrible, sickening coincidence? I dropped my gaze, my voice still laced with a thread of unease. “Ethan… I just… I get a weird vibe from him. The way he looked at me at the company Christmas party last year… it was slimy. It made my skin crawl.” The first and only time I’d met Richard Hayes, he had held my hand for a beat too long, his eyes dragging from my face down to my shoes and back up again. I’d had a nightmare about it that night. Ethan let out a sharp laugh, a pfft of air, and reached out to pinch my cheek playfully. “Oh, honey, you’re overthinking it! His wife, Brenda, is famously terrifying. He wouldn’t dare step out of line. She’d have his balls in a vise.” He puffed out his chest, making a mock-ferocious face. “And you’ve got me here! If he tried anything, even looked at you the wrong way, I’d be the first one to smash a bottle over his head.” He finished by kissing my forehead, his voice softening. “Okay? Stop worrying. We’ve both got work tomorrow. Let’s get some sleep.” He rolled over, and within minutes, his breathing evened out into the steady rhythm of sleep. But my mind was a churning sea of anxiety. The vile words from that forum post kept washing up on the shore of my consciousness, each one more toxic than the last. I lay awake until the digital clock on the nightstand read 2:17 AM. Certain that Ethan was deep in sleep, I carefully reached for his phone, plugged into its charger on his side of the bed. The passcode was our anniversary. It opened on the first try. I took a deep, shaky breath and tapped on the web browser icon. The search history was a punch to the gut. The words seared themselves into my retinas: 【Colorless odorless drops soluble in alcohol fast metabolism】 【How to make someone disoriented and confused】 【Best products for memory gaps after a party】 … And there, at the very top, was the last search. Time-stamped just three hours ago. 【‘Sweet Compliance’ drops are they really undetectable?】 2 A polar chill flooded my veins, seeping into my bones. My fingers trembled as I navigated to the private forum he’d been on earlier. It was no surprise. The original poster was Ethan. He was even a member of a group chat called 【The Winners' Circle - Resource Sharing】. Inside, he was a prolific contributor, his username a simple, anonymous number:【0】. 【0】: Hey guys, that stuff… is it really as good as you say? She wakes up and remembers nothing? No drama? 【OldDogNewTricks】: Relax, man. I’ve been there. I’ll DM you a link. Get it discreetly, put it in her wine. She’ll just think she blacked out from drinking too much. 【SharingIsCaring】: @0 Bro, I used it on my wife. Me and a few buddies had a six-hour train on her. She woke up thinking it was all me, told me it was the best night of her life. Now she’s making me steak and smoothies every day to ‘keep my strength up’! 【0】: This stuff… how long do the effects last? A few days? 【SharingIsCaring】: A few days? Jesus, dude, you trying to break her? You’d have to up the dose. Last time I used half a vial, we partied for three straight days. It was epic. 【0】: That’s perfect. My boss, see, he has some… specific tastes. Likes to get pretty rough. I wasn’t sure how to keep him happy, but this sounds like it’ll do the trick. 【OldDogNewTricks】: @0 Dude, first time, take it easy. You want this to be a recurring thing, right? Don’t wear out the merchandise on the first go. 【0】: I know, I know. But the boss already has his own supply ready. He specifically told me he’s coming over this weekend. What am I supposed to do? But my wife does yoga, she’s pretty flexible. I’m sure she can handle it, right? 【OldDogNewTricks】: A yoga girl? Holy shit! I’m officially jealous of your boss. Think of all the positions! Bro, you gotta share the video with us after. For educational purposes. The messages that followed descended into even more depraved territory. A wave of nausea roiled in my stomach. I clamped a hand over my mouth, fighting the urge to vomit right there in the bed. My proper, gentle, loving husband was, in secret, a monster. 3 According to their chat, he’d already gotten his hands on “the good stuff” today. I slid out of bed, my feet silent on the hardwood floor, and went to his briefcase by the door. In a hidden pocket in the lining, my fingers closed around a small glass vial. I held it up to the faint moonlight filtering through the window. The label was stark white with two words: 【Sweet Compliance】. I took the vial into the bathroom, uncapped it, and carefully poured the entire contents into an old, empty bottle of nail polish remover. Then I rinsed the original vial again and again with hot water, making sure not a single molecule remained. Finally, I refilled the small vial with tap water, dried it meticulously, and placed it back in the hidden pocket of his briefcase. When I slipped back into bed, Ethan was still dead to the world, blissfully unaware, even grinding his teeth softly in his sleep. Looking at his face, so placid and innocent, I couldn't hold it in anymore. CRACK! The sound of my open palm connecting with his cheek was sharp and loud in the silent room. Ethan jolted awake, sputtering, a hand flying to his face. He blinked at me, dazed and groggy. “Lily! What the hell? Why did you hit me?!” I didn’t answer. I rolled over, facing away from him, and began to breathe deeply and evenly, mimicking sleep, as if it had been nothing more than an unconscious spasm in a dream. He mumbled in confusion for a few moments. “Having a nightmare?” He rubbed his cheek, but the pull of sleep was too strong. He rolled back over, cursed something unintelligible under his breath, and was snoring again within a minute. A slow, cold smile spread across my lips in the darkness. Ethan. You want to please your perverted boss so badly? Fine. You can be the one to offer up your body. 4 The weekend arrived, right on schedule. Richard Hayes showed up at our door holding two bottles of Macallan 18. You’d think Ethan was the boss he was trying to impress. The second he stepped inside, his eyes glued themselves to me, and I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. The dress I was wearing had been Ethan’s choice. Tight. Low-cut. Black lace. It hugged every curve, leaving little to the imagination. His exact words had been: “Honey, if you look stunning, it makes me look good.” Hearing him say it, knowing what I knew now, a bitter laugh rose in my throat. He wasn't just showing me off. He was serving me up like a prize on a platter. But I didn't let a hint of my revulsion show. I smiled sweetly and told him I’d even done my makeup just for the occasion. After a few minutes of strained small talk, I excused myself to the kitchen to finish dinner. I looked at the vial of clear liquid in my hand. The one I’d refilled with water. Could this stuff really be as potent as those animals in the forum claimed? I didn't believe it. So, I took the real vial, the one I’d hidden, and poured the entire thing, every last drop, into the bowl of chicken soup I’d prepared specifically for Ethan. Let’s have my husband be the guinea pig. 5 I carried the soup out to the living room, my smile perfectly placid. “Ethan, Rich. I made my special ginseng chicken soup. I let it simmer for hours. It’s great for your vitality. Have some to start, the rest of the food will be out in a minute.” Neither man suspected a thing. They took the bowls eagerly and drank them down. After I brought the last dish to the table, I sat down and found a glass of white wine waiting for me. I raised an eyebrow at Ethan, my voice full of feigned reluctance. “Honey, you know I’m a lightweight. Maybe I should skip it?” Richard Hayes’s face immediately darkened. The air in the room grew heavy. Ethan nudged me nervously under the table, his voice a harsh whisper. “Lily! Rich poured that for you himself. Just have a little. Don’t be rude!” Seeing him so desperate to push me, to trade me for his own ambition, filled me with a disgust so profound it was almost dizzying. I sighed, a perfect portrait of reluctant compliance, and under the eager, watchful eyes of both men, I picked up the glass. I drained it and set the empty glass back on the table. I saw a flash of triumphant glee exchanged between them. The game had begun. As the meal progressed and more wine was poured, Richard reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He pulled out a small bottle and shook a few small, blue, diamond-shaped pills into his palm. I timed my expression of mild confusion perfectly. He didn’t miss a beat, his tone casual. “Ah, these are just some imported liver-support tablets. Gotta protect yourself when you’re drinking, you know.” He offered a few to Ethan. “You should have some, Ethan. They work wonders.” Ethan took them without hesitation and swallowed them with a gulp of wine. Then, Richard deliberately extended his hand toward me, the blue pills resting in his sweaty palm. “Lily, how about you? They’re very good for you.” I shook my head. “No, thank you, Mr. Hayes. I’m fine.” He didn’t push, just chuckled and popped the pills into his own mouth. I knew exactly what they were. Viagra. They were leaving nothing to chance. A double-barreled approach to ensure my complete submission. The rest of the dinner became a relentless campaign to get me drunk. To make me drink more, they had to drink more, matching me glass for glass. Suddenly, Richard slumped forward, his face planting right onto the table with a thud. Ethan wasn’t doing much better. He swayed in his chair, blinking at me through a drunken haze. “Honey… I think… I think Rich has had too much. It’s not safe for him to drive home. Can we… can we just let him crash in the guest room tonight?” I pressed a hand to my forehead, acting dizzier than I was, and nodded slowly. “Okay… My head is spinning. I think… I think I need to go lie down…” I stumbled as I stood up and made my way toward our bedroom. The moment before I closed the door, I caught a glimpse of them in the reflection of a picture frame on the wall. They made eye contact, a shared look of smug satisfaction. Their plan was working perfectly. They just didn’t know who the real predator was.
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