The mere conjunction of fragmented words was enough to infer a terrifying truth.

Moreover, Ann’s current behavior revealed that she might not be the harmless maid Moen had always believed her to be.

She was far more dangerous than Moen had ever imagined.

"Don’t worry, young master, I won’t harm you... for now," Ann said. "So long as you obediently stay here."

"Obediently... stay here?"

"That’s right. Stay here," Ann replied, her eyes glimmering with immense delight.

"And then, stay with me forever."

"Stay with you forever? That’s impossible!"

Though Moen understood her meaning, it was precisely this understanding that he couldn't accept it.

"You want to imprison me for the rest of my life?"

"I have no choice."

An revealed a faintly regretful expression.

"If the plan had gone smoothly and I had captured both your body and mind, I wouldn’t need to resort to such extremes. But... the plan failed."

"..."

"I really can’t understand it. How did it fail? There hasn't been any problem in the past ten years. But suddenly, young master, it’s like you’ve turned into a completely different person."

Ann’s eyes widened as she stared fixedly at Moen, as if trying to uncover some trace of evidence from him.

"You’ve become brave, motivated, humble, and polite. You care about a maid who got sick. You greet guests with respect. And you even spend a whole day in the library, a place you previously wouldn’t spare a single glance for.

Young master, tell me—what exactly contributed such a drastic change in you all of a sudden?

Could it be… you’re not really the young master at all?"

Moen’s heart skipped a beat.

His instincts warned him—the truth he wasn’t truly the original Moen Campbell once exposed, Ann might kill him on the spot.

Forcing a strained smile, he explained in a hurry, "Perhaps… it’s just part of growing up. Isn’t that what happens to men? One night, they just… grow up out of the blue."

"Is that so?"

Ann tilted her head.

"Never mind. You really are the young master; I’ve already confirmed that," Ann said, licking her lips as if savoring a lingering taste.

"So, since I can’t have both your body and soul, I’ll have to settle for something less."

Ann gazed at Moen, the endless desire surging once more from the depths of her eyes, as though intent on completely devouring him.

"At the very least, I’ll ensure that you, young master, stay by my side… forever."

…

…

"Let go of me!"

"This is wrong; it’s a crime!"

"I’m the son of a duke, Ann. You must understand the consequences of what you’re doing!"

"Even if you get my body, you’ll never have my heart!"

Realizing that Ann truly intended to imprison him for the rest of his life, Moen panicked and began to struggle with all his might.

He roared at her, threatened her, tried to entice her, even pleaded for mercy—but Ann remained untouched.

"Give it up, young master," Ann said with a smile. "From the moment you said you wanted to let me go, I stopped hoping for your heart. Everything I’m doing now is simply to have your body—entirely and forever."

"You think you can get my body?"

Having exhausted all other options, Moen adopted an air of defiance, sneering coldly.

"Let me be honest with you: for a woman with a heart as twisted as yours, I feel absolutely no desire."

"Is that so?"

Ann smiled faintly.

Then, she rose to her feet, her expression back to composed, her demeanor once more prim and proper.

Yet her hands, bit by bit, began unfastening the buttons of her blouse.

As the buttons came undone, An’s soft, pale, and perfectly rounded breasts—no less impressive than Celicia’s—escaped its confines and intruded rudely upon Moen’s vision like a beast breaking free from its cage.

"Hiss—"

Moen sucked in a sharp breath.

A maid.

Unemotionally disrobing.

Imprisonment play.

No. Too many elements. It’s too provocative—oh no, too infuriating!

Is this how a dignified maid ought to behave?

"My, young master," Ann remarked, glancing downward toward a specific part of his body before giggling softly. "You don’t seem to be entirely as indifferent as you claimed."

She leaned down, sliding one foot out of her polished leather shoe. Then, gathering her skirt in her hands, she lifted it enough to reveal a slender, stocking-clad foot, which she slowly, deliberately, placed against the particular part of Moen’s body.

"Ugh…"

"How does that feel? Comfortable isn't it?"

"Comf—No! Damn it… I’ll never give in!"

Even though the scene undeniably caused Moen’s blood to surge, especially with those stockings—he never expected Ann to have hidden such a lethal weapon beneath her long maid’s dress—Moen resolved not to surrender!

It was one thing to be pinned down and humiliated by Celicia, but he refused to let his dignity be trampled on a second time!

"No matter what you do, I won’t give in so easily this time."

"In the name of Lao Tzu, Queen Mother of the West, Buddha, and Jesus reborn—be gone!"

Moen tightly shut his eyes, deliberately ignoring the visuals that stirred his desires. Chanting nonsensical mantras in a desperate attempt to drown out Ann’s seductive voice, he also began employing self-hypnosis, imagining sensations of discomfort—the chafing of ill-fitted sportswear during a thousand-meter run, for instance.

Under this multi-pronged psychological influence, he… actually seemed to make a bit of progress.

"I've underestimated your willpower, young master," Ann muttered, narrowing her eyes with displeasure as she sensed a noticeable change in the sensations beneath her foot.

"It seems I’ll have to resort to special methods."

Huh?

Special methods?

Curious, Moen squinted his eyes open just enough to see Ann reach into the deep cleft of her chest and extract two small, gleaming glass vials.

Hell knows how had she managed to fit glass bottles there? That kind of elasticity—

No, this was no time to dwell on such things.

Moen’s gaze fell upon one vial filled with red liquid, and a terrible premonition welled up within him.

This stuff… seemed awfully familiar.

"Thankfully, I didn’t use it all last time," Ann mused, shaking the vial to whirl its blood-red contents around before offering him a knowing smile.

"That… wouldn’t happen to be dragon blood, would it?" Moen stammered, his voice trembling as he stared at the crimson liquid.

"You know of dragon blood, young master? Impressive."

Ann nodded. "Yes, it’s a potion tainted with dragon’s blood. The same one I added to your tea before."

"And the other one… that wouldn’t happen to be powdered dragon salvia, would it?"

Moen’s eyes darted to the white powder within the other vial, his voice now trembling audibly.

"You even know that?" Ann licked her lips, her gaze teasing.

"In that case, you must realize what I’m planning to do."

Effortlessly, Ann combined the two substances, creating a pinkish liquid—its ominous appearance screaming trouble.

Holding the concoction close to Moen’s face, Ann offered a serene smile.

"Now, young master… it’s time to take your medicine~."