A wealthy woman

The room next to Mr. Spencer's had already been cleaned up. There was a queen-sized bed. The floor was covered with Italian plush blankets. Several sets of ladies' clothes looked expensive were hung in the closet.

A few luxurious rings, earrings and watches casually lay on the table.

Stephanie sat casually in the chair and turned around to ask, "How can I cooperate?"

"Lift your clothes." Harold ordered with a cold face.

Stephanie looked at him, smiling, "Are you sure you want to see it?"

She was teasing. Although Harold was slow-witted, he could tell the difference between teasing and flirting. He looked up at Stephanie and suddenly lifted his clothes. His wheat-colored abdominal muscles were exposed. They were strong and bulging, like breads in the oven, piece by piece.

Stephanie looked at him in surprise, not knowing what to do.

"You've seen mime," Harold said.

Stephanie shouted in shock, "What?"

"Then I can see yours. It's fair." Harold looked at her and said.

"..."