By accident, I overheard my girlfriend talking to her mom on the phone.

"Mom, I know. First register the marriage with him, then buy the marital apartment, then three months later divorce him and split the property…"

Only then did I realize I'd run into a woman who scams people into marriage.

Chaotic thoughts battled in my head for three seconds, and in the end I decided not to expose her for now.

After all, not only is her figure and looks top-tier, her skills are also first-rate, and she's very handy to use.

Doesn't she want to scam me out of my property? Then I'll plant a landmine for her in advance.

When the time comes, I'll let her know what the hell a surprise is!

…

"Mom, I know. First register the marriage with him, then buy the marital apartment, then three months later divorce him and split the property. I'm very familiar with this process already, you don't need to remind me again."

After hearing this call between Summer Whitney and her mom, my whole body went numb.

No wonder earlier, when I took her to look at a marital apartment and was getting ready to pay, she insisted on waiting until after we got the marriage certificate to buy it, saying that would feel more ceremonial.

Turns out what she wanted wasn't a sense of ceremony—she wanted to freeload my property for nothing.

Before I could even finish digesting my anger, Summer had already hung up and was about to come in from outside.

With no time to hide in the bedroom, I immediately turned around and walked into the kitchen, pretending I was getting breakfast ready.

After Summer came in and saw I was up, her face was full of panic.

"H-Honey, how long have you been up?"

Looking at her probing eyes, I knew she was worried I'd heard what she just said, so I immediately put on a just-woke-up, sleepy-eyed look.

Yawning, I said, "Just got up. I was about to make breakfast."

Summer let out a long breath, leaned over, and pressed her chest tightly against my back. "Honey, leave making breakfast to your wife, okay? After all, you worked hard last night, hehe."

As she spoke, she also started feeling around under my armpits.

In the past, I would have felt extremely happy and sweet.

But now, I felt so disgusted it was like I'd swallowed a fly.

The pure love I thought I had was actually a carefully arranged scam.

She played me like this—I'm definitely going to make her pay the price!

After thinking it over, I decided not to tear off the mask for now.

So I forced down the anger in my heart, smiled, patted her perky butt, and joked, "Fine. I hope your cooking skills amaze me the same way your bedroom skills do!"

Summer shot me an annoyed look and smacked me, then, with a shy face, went to prepare breakfast.

Watching Summer's busy, slender back, I couldn't help but sigh with emotion.

This woman not only has a top-tier figure and looks, her skills are also first-rate. If I just let go like this, I really would be a little reluctant.

Doesn't she want to mess with me? Then I'll compete with her and see who's better at messing with people.

At this moment, a plan was already brewing in my heart.

When the time comes, she'll know what the hell a surprise is.

Very soon, Summer came out carrying a lavish breakfast.

While she attentively picked food for me, she also beat around the bush, trying to get me to buy her premarital gold jewelry.

Her little scheme was calculated perfectly.

If those things are given before marriage, they count as voluntary gifts. Even if we divorce in the future, all of it will be hers.

The whole time I played deaf and dumb, pretending I didn't understand what she meant.

In the end, Summer couldn't hold it in anymore and directly laid it out with me.

"Honey, look, next month we're getting married. We still have to prepare a set of gold jewelry, right? Otherwise it'll be too shabby then, and wouldn't that make you lose face?"

I chuckled. "What's there to lose face over? We can buy it together after we get the marriage certificate—wouldn't that feel even more ceremonial?"

Hearing that, Summer got so mad she threw down her chopsticks and stormed off toward the bedroom.

I watched her slender back with amusement, laughing to myself.

The door slammed shut behind her.

I walked to the balcony and called my dad. "Dad, I need to borrow some money."

By evening, Summer must have realized she'd overreacted. She came to make up with me.

She'd washed up early, wrapped in nothing but a towel, emerging from the bathroom like a water nymph. When she let the towel drop and flashed me that seductive smile, I felt every capillary in my body ignite.

I have to say—she really was a one-in-a-million temptress. Every inch of her was top-tier. Especially that bewitching expression; it could always stir up my interest instantly.

Unlike before, when I'd treat her like something precious, this time I only cared about my own pleasure. Whatever felt good, I did.

I used to hold her in the palm of my hand, afraid of hurting her, never letting myself go wild. Now I wanted to experience what it felt like to floor the gas pedal.

In the past, I'd worried about her comfort and never tried anything too adventurous. Tonight, I used every move in the book.

Summer was wrecked by my intensity and kept begging for mercy. "Hus... band, can you... slow down... I can't... take it..."

The more she begged, the more excited I got. I floored it and fully enjoyed the ride.

That night, I was insatiable—three rounds, and I had her wailing by the end.

She lay sprawled before me, complaining between gasps. "Your... stamina is insane... three times, an hour each—are you trying to... kill me?"

I chuckled. "That was only half my strength. Imagine if I actually tried."

After several days of this, Summer would tremble the moment she saw me. At night, she wouldn't even come to bed until she was sure I was asleep—then she'd quietly slip in beside me.

Even then, I didn't let her off.

After a few months, even the way she walked had changed.

Though she was suffering, for the sake of scamming a house out of me, she endured it.

Soon enough, the day came to get our marriage certificate.

I didn't hesitate. According to plan, I registered our marriage with Summer.

The moment the certificate was in hand, a smug, uncontrollable smile spread across her face.

I smiled too.

The day after, Summer dragged me to the sales office to buy a house.

The development had three floor plans available: an $8 million three-bedroom, a $15 million luxury flat, and a $30 million standalone villa.

Back when we were dating, I'd told Summer I was just a regular tech employee—didn't want to give her too much pressure. To match that story, I'd picked the $8 million three-bedroom as our marital home.

But at the sales office, Summer suddenly pointed at the $15 million model. "Honey, I really love this layout. How about we get this one instead? I'm willing to put in all my savings."

I'd expected her greed. I just hadn't expected her to offer her own money.

I chuckled. "So how much savings do you have?"

Summer held up three fingers, looking dead serious.

"You have $3 million?"

She shook her head.

"$300,000?"

"I have $3,000."

"Honey, I know it's not much, but I'm giving you everything I have."

Nice try—using $3,000 to bait me into spending millions more. She really thinks I'm an idiot.

When I didn't respond, Summer started pushing me to tap my family for cash.

"Honey, think of something. Ask your parents, your siblings. A few extra million shouldn't be hard for you."

I smiled faintly and pointed at the standalone villa. "Why cram into a condo with all those people? If we're buying, we're buying that."

She stared at me, stunned. Then her expression soured—she thought I was mocking her. "If you don't want to chip in for a bigger condo, just say so. You don't have to be sarcastic."

I gripped her shoulders, looking sincere. "Honey, I'm not joking. I'm buying the villa. Look—I've already got the money."

I showed her my bank balance. Her eyes went wide, and she actually screamed.

But suspicion crept back almost instantly. "You didn't take out a loan, did you? Because I'm not paying that off with you."

"Relax. Not a single cent borrowed. My family scraped it together."

She threw herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me hard.

"Honey, you're amazing!"

Just like that, I paid $30 million in full for the villa.

On the way home, we passed an imported car dealership. Summer dragged me inside.

"Honey, your Audi's so old. How about a Porsche? Since your family's so generous, why not ask for a little more?"

This woman was relentless. Bleeding me for a house wasn't enough—now she wanted a car.

Fine by me. The more eagerly she swallows, the harder she'll choke when it comes back up.

I dropped another $6 million on a Porsche.

The moment the keys hit my palm, her lips curled into a grin. So did mine.

After the house and car, she pushed for designer bags, watches, jewelry.

I refused everything.

First, that stuff would be a hassle to reclaim later. Second, I didn't want to overload the trap. The mine I'd buried was heavy enough already—I was worried she wouldn't survive the blast.

I didn't want our divorce dragging on because of loose ends.

The moment I stopped spending, her attitude plummeted.

At night, she was suddenly never in the mood. Period cramps. Infection. Always something.

I didn't care. After months of nonstop action, the novelty had worn off anyway. Even the finest delicacy gets bland if you eat it every day.

Now I was just waiting for her to show her hand.

Sure enough, she started picking fights over nothing. Every argument ended with her looking heartbroken and wronged. If I hadn't already known her game, I'd have thought I was the problem.

It's true what they say: sometimes when a woman snaps at you, it's not because you've done anything wrong. It's because she's already done with you.

The fights escalated. Summer grew bolder, stopped pretending. Some nights, she didn't come home at all.