Ashley

Beta and Matilda landed in Casablanca, Morocco.

Using a Continental Hotel gold coin, he easily checked in. No identification or passport was needed; anyone could stay as long as they had a gold coin.

Pushing open the heavy solid wood door, the luxurious atmosphere that rushed out contrasted sharply with the slightly dilapidated cityscape outside the window.

The interior of the Continental Hotel was meticulously decorated: the water flow in the constant temperature massage bathtub adjusted automatically, the sensor-controlled crystal chandeliers lit up gradually with each step, and even the gold-plated faucets in the bathroom exuded a low-key luxurious luster. Every detail silently interpreted the word "top-tier."

Beta placed Matilda's luggage on the carpet and turned to ask, "What do you want for dinner, Matilda?"

Matilda pulled out a squeezed and deformed Paddington Bear plush toy from her backpack and replied nonchalantly, "Whatever."

Beta scratched his forehead. "Do all women, regardless of age, love to use that word?"

Matilda sank into the leather sofa, hugged the plush toy, and shrugged. "Uh-huh."

Her calves dangled lightly in the air as her eyes stared at the ornate crystal chandelier on the ceiling.

Beta chuckled. "Want to learn a little trick to make your future husband hang on your every word?"

Matilda sat up straight. "Of course!"

"Listen," Beta made a thinking gesture. "Men are like standby computers. First, you need an activation word."

He raised his index finger. "For example, 'darling' or a special nickname. This is equivalent to pressing the power button."

Matilda nodded seriously, hugging Paddington Bear to her chest.

"Then," Beta continued, "give precise instructions. For example, don't say 'Let's have steak for dinner,' but rather, 'Darling, please buy 1 kilogram of steak, pan-fry it until golden brown on both sides, serve with 200 grams of broccoli and 6 cherry tomatoes, and finish with black pepper sauce.'" He mimicked a gentle but precise tone.

"Like this," Beta winked. "As long as the other person's IQ is online, you'll have a perfect dinner waiting for you when you get home. Do you understand this programming logic?"

Matilda thought for a moment and smiled. "Then now, dear Uncle Salong, please order me a 300-gram tiramisu with double the coffee powder and cocoa powder."

Beta snapped his fingers crisply and pointed at Matilda with a smile. "Very good, you've mastered the core technique. Believe me, you will be an excellent wife, and your future husband will become a model husband because of it."

Matilda asked curiously, "Is this some kind of advanced psychological principle?"

"Ha!" A cunning glint flashed in Beta's eyes. "Quite the opposite, this is basic infant psychology. Any kindergarten teacher can give you a lesson on it."

"Huh?" Matilda hugged Paddington Bear, clearly confused by the unexpected answer.

Beta leaned back on the leather sofa, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Male psychology is a very interesting field. In reality, most husbands only need three things: clear instructions, positive affirmation upon completion, and a small reward. In this positive feedback loop, men will become increasingly outstanding, like well-trained dolphins."

"It's a shame," he shrugged. "Many wives are either vague or stingy with praise, turning what should be a harmonious family into a battlefield of mutual torment."

Beta looked meaningfully at Matilda. "Remember this lesson, and your future married life will be much easier."

Matilda said, "You know a lot."

Beta replied, "Professionalism."

Suddenly, a hurried doorbell rang.

Beta drew the Glock pistol from his waist with his right hand while making a concealed gesture to Matilda with his left.

He moved slowly towards the door and cautiously opened it a crack. The moment the gap widened, a hand shot in and precisely grabbed Beta's collar.

Beta didn't resist, allowing the person to shove him into the room. With a "snap," the door was shut heavily and automatically locked.

Before Beta could regain his footing, he was tackled to the ground by the newcomer. The person straddled his waist, pinning him down firmly.

Beta exclaimed in surprise, "Ashley? What are you doing here?"

Ashley, who was pressing down on him, was a typical Italian beauty. Around twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, her neat, ear-length short hair made her look even more capable.

She was wearing a well-tailored gray women's suit, flat leather shoes, and the outline of a pistol holster was faintly visible at her waist. She exuded the sharp aura of a professional bodyguard, possessing both feminine charm and formidable professionalism in her every move.

Ashley bit her lower lip, her fiery gaze locked onto Beta beneath her, her voice laced with reproach. "You bastard, sneaking off to Casablanca and not even contacting me?"

Beta couldn't help but laugh. "You sly little fox, how did you find me?"

Ashley didn't answer. She simply deftly removed her suit jacket, unbuckled her holster, and tossed it and the pistol onto the floor.

She leaned down, pressing herself tightly against Beta, and whispered into his ear, her breath hot. "Let's make the most of our time, darling. I only have 40 minutes. Antonio leaves in 40 minutes."

Beta cupped Ashley's waist and stood up from the floor, holding her. Ashley's slender legs wrapped around his waist, and her hands cupped his face as her red lips pressed fiercely against his, the passionate kiss making ambiguous "smack" sounds.

"Wait," Beta said with difficulty between breaths, his voice hoarse. "There's a minor present. Could you have her step out for a moment?"

Ashley finally released his lips. Her exquisite lipstick was already smudged, all over Beta's lips and cheeks.

She narrowed her eyes and looked in the direction Beta indicated. "A minor? That little girl?"

The next second, she grabbed Beta's collar, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Who is she?!"

Beta quickly raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. "Calm down, darling. She's my friend's daughter. I brought her here to lie low."

"You better not be lying to me," Ashley turned to Matilda and gave a professional smile. "Dear, could you please return to your room for a while? We have some adult matters to discuss."

Matilda nodded, quickly walked into her room, and gently closed the door.

Beta hugged Ashley and strode towards the master bedroom.

He skillfully closed the door with his heel. With a soft click, they both tumbled onto the soft bed. Ashley's hair was scattered on the pillow, her gray suit jacket long gone, and the collar of her shirt slightly unbuttoned.

"Forty minutes," Beta whispered in her ear, his fingers skillfully unbuttoning her shirt. "Looks like we need to hurry."

Ashley chuckled softly, her slender legs winding around his waist. "Then let's not waste any time, darling."

Her voice was slightly hoarse with desire, and her fingers had already slipped inside Beta's shirt.

Outside the window, the last rays of the Casablanca sunset spilled into the room, casting a golden halo over the reunited lovers.

The story continues to unfold, with various characters appearing one after another, and there will be stories about them later on.