Chapter 2: A Disordered Night

There was a cool, invigorating scent about the man’s body, one that Nan Zhi found irresistibly appealing—a distinctly masculine aura. Her lips, flushed and parted, pressed hungrily to his cool, soft lips, his jaw, his handsome face; her breath came in ragged bursts, and delicate whimpers slipped from her lips. “I feel so awful… Can you help me, please…”

The word “get lost” was on the man’s lips, but before he could utter it, she sealed his mouth with another desperate kiss. Her sweet, soft tongue slipped inside, clumsy and innocent, entwining with his. In the darkness, neither could make out the other’s features, but both were keenly aware of the heat radiating between their bodies.

Nan Zhi’s slender, tender arms wrapped tightly around the man’s neck; apart from kissing him, she had no idea what else to do. Her feverish little face buried itself against his neck, and she let out a pained moan.

“I’ve been drugged… It hurts so much…” she pleaded.

Nan Zhi herself didn’t know why she felt such inexplicable trust toward this man. Perhaps it was because he was lying there, unable to move, or perhaps because, even after her bold advances, he hadn’t tried to hurt her.

But she overlooked the true nature of men.

Just as she bit his lip again, the man suddenly rolled over, pinning her beneath him.

In the darkness, Nan Zhi could feel the man’s cold, intense gaze—those deep, dark eyes like swirling vortices, exuding an inescapable pull.

Unable to resist, she swallowed hard, her small hand unconsciously slipping beneath his shirt, tracing the defined muscles of his abdomen. Guided by instinct, her hand slowly moved lower—

…

Pain.

Such pain.

It was as though her body had been split open with an axe.

And though it hurt, the drug coursing through her veins left her craving more. Her hands clutched at his tense, muscular arms, raking long, bloody scratches down his skin.

…

In the presidential suite, the heavy gray curtains blocked out most of the light, allowing only a faint, pale glow to seep through. Dawn had come.

The room was thick with the heady aftermath of passion.

On the bed, a young, delicate girl slowly opened her long, curled lashes. Her clear, dark almond eyes were clouded with confusion, still lost in the haze of waking.

A strong, perfectly sculpted arm was wrapped firmly around her slender waist.

The man lay behind her, his chest pressed against her back, breathing slow and steady, his chest rising and falling in a calm rhythm.

A surge of panic welled up in Nan Zhi’s heart as memories of the previous night gradually surfaced. She clapped a hand over her mouth, and for a long while, she could only sit there in shock and disbelief.

Glancing warily at the man behind her, she gently pried his muscular arm from her waist, then dragged her aching, battered body out of bed.

She scooped up her scattered clothes from the floor and fled in a panic.

She didn’t know how long had passed before the man slowly opened his eyes. The girl was already gone. He lifted his hand, and a single pearl earring fell into his palm.

…

The Nan family’s villa stood at the end of the last row in the wealthy district. Nan Zhi stepped out of the taxi, her legs weak and sore, and made her way toward the living room.

She had barely reached the entryway when she heard a burst of cheerful laughter from inside.

“Brother Shaoxiu, are you really giving me a pink diamond necklace? I’m not your fiancée, you know. If Zhi Zhi finds out, she’ll skin me alive!”