Zhane sat in front of them and began brewing tea using a pair of Famille Rose Melon teapots, apanied by matching teacups.


    Despite the name "Rose Melon," the teapots actually resembled an elegant white pumpkins, their golden handles and spouts shaped like twisted, dried branches adorned with delicate cherry blossom designs.


    The set exuded an air of sophistication and grace—it was a treasured gift from Hera’s grandfather.


    As Zhane reached for the teapot, he immediately recognized its value. His grandfather, who was an avid collector of fine tea sets due to his passion for tea-making, had an extensive collection.


    Zhane recalled that his grandfather once tried to acquire this exact set at an auction in May 2011, but he could only secure a replica after failing to win the original.


    Even now, his grandfather regretted not being able to purchase it, never knowing who had walked away with such a remarkable piece—until this moment.


    The sight of that particr tea set in Hera’s home, made Zhane pause mid-action, momentarily lost in deep contemtion. He had seen enough fine pottery to distinguish between an authentic piece and a replica, and to his astonishment, the set before him was undoubtedly real.


    This realization shocked him even more because, if he remembered correctly, his grandfather had once mentioned that the original tea set had been auctioned for $2.18 million.


    Ever since that day, it had been a topic of regret and fascination for his grandfather—yet here it was, sitting casually in Hera’s home.


    Zhane took a subtle yet unsteady breath as he resumed making tea, this time handling the delicate tea set with even greater care, ensuring he wouldn’t risk damaging such a priceless piece.


    Meanwhile, Luke assisted by slicing fruit on the side, his movements precise and methodical.


    On either side of Hera, Rafael and Dave bickered yfully, their lighthearted banter filling the room. Hera chuckled, watching them let go of their usualposed images and embrace the warmth and ease of the moment.


    "What, you want to have a go?" Rafael teased, raising an eyebrow as he casually rolled up his sleeves.


    It was only then that Hera noticed the intricate tattoo covering his right arm—a full sleeve design of a serpent coiling around his skin, its form on the verge of transforming into a dragon.


    The detailed artwork wrapped around his arm, disappearing beneath his sleeve. Fascinated, Hera’s gaze traced the tattoo’s path, following its sinuous curves with quiet intrigue.


    Rafael, catching her lingering stare, felt a spark of something deep and unspoken. His eyes darkened, his breath hitching as an unexpected sensation crawled over his skin—a deliciously tingling awareness of her attention.


    When her gaze finally traveled upward to meet his, the air between them grew taut, charged with something neither of them could quite name.


    "Do you like it? I can show you the whole tattoo if you’d like," Rafael offered, his voice low and raspy, carrying a seductive edge—like a serpent tempting Eve with the forbidden fruit.


    His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, his dark eyes watching her intently.


    But Herapletely missed the underlying insinuation in his tone. Instead, her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she eagerly nodded.


    She had tended to Rafael’s wounds in the forest before, but back then, she had only removed enough of his clothing to treat his injuries.


    Even on the night they first made love, the room had been cloaked in darkness, leaving her unaware of the intricate design on his skin. Now, in the light of day, she was seeing it for the first time, and she couldn’t help but be fascinated.


    The tattoo was mesmerizing, adding to Rafael’s dangerous allure. It made him look every bit the irresistible mafia boss—both hot, powerful, lethal, and undeniably captivating.


    Hera’s mind wandered, imagining how he would look with his shirt off, his full tattoo on disy, entuating the sculpted lines of his muscles.


    The mere thought sent a rush of heat through her, making her breath quicken and her heart pound against her ribcage.


    Before she could even respond, Rafael began unbuttoning his shirt, his intense gaze never leaving hers. His dark eyes felt like an abyss—deep, consuming, and impossible to escape.


    Yet, instead of fear, Hera felt something else entirely. She wanted to dive in, to lose herself in the depths of his stare, to uncover all the mysteries hidden within.


    Not long after, Rafael shrugged off his shirt, revealing the full extent of his tattoo. The air between him and Hera crackled with undeniable tension, and Dave immediately sensed it.


    His eyes widened as he took in the charged atmosphere, and his fingers twitched with the urge to shove Rafael aside for so boldly seducing Hera right in front of them.


    But he couldn’t.


    Zhane and Luke remained silent, neither objecting nor interfering. If they weren’t making a fuss, how could he be the only one to raise a ruckus?


    Dave bit down on his lower lip, struggling to rein in the jealousy and possessiveness threatening to boil over as he watched Hera fall deeper under Rafael’s spell.


    Hera stared at Rafael, her gaze tracing the intricate lines of ink etched into his skin. Almost unconsciously, her hand reached out, fingertips brushing over his right arm as she traced the tattoo’s design.


    Rafael tensed beneath her touch, his muscles tightening as a muffled groan threatened to escape his lips. A wave of heat coiled low in his abdomen, familiar and intoxicating, like a serpent stirring within him.


    Hera’s fingers traveled further, following the serpent-like dragon’s winding path as it coiled around his arm up to his shoulder.


    The detailed inkwork revealed a skull on his shoulder de, its hollow eyes staring into the void. Meanwhile, the serpent’s body wove around the ominous empty eye socket facing the sky, its fangs dripping with venom.


    She didn’t know the meaning behind Rafael’s tattoo, but she found it mesmerizing. While she had never considered getting one herself, that didn’t mean she didn’t appreciate them.


    In fact, she admired the artistry and the storytelling embedded in ink. Seeing Rafael with one only heightened his allure, making him seem even more dangerous and maic.


    Hera was utterly spellbound.


    "Sweetheart, do you like tattoos that much? Do you want me to get one too? Maybe you can suggest where I should put it?" Dave murmured, resting his face on Hera’s shoulder.


    His sudden interruption shattered the spell, snapping Hera back to reality. She blinked, regaining herposure, though her hand still lingered on Rafael’s skin.


    Rafael inhaled deeply, forcing himself to stay calm. He knew exactly what Dave was doing—deliberately stepping in the moment he sensed Hera being drawn in by Rafael’s seduction.


    The frustration simmered beneath his skin, but he held it in check, unwilling to give Dave the satisfaction of knowing he had sessfully disrupted the moment.