Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
He carried her out of the bathroom. The spacious bedroom, where he was now standing, was his kingdom.
It was a night of wild lovemaking. He could not recall when he had last touched her; all he could remember was that he had been missing her and suppressing his urge all this while.
Drifting in and out of her consciousness, she could not remember how many times he had laid her.
His tyranny was, once again, evident in their lovemaking.
As he kissed her brows, lips, and then her clavicle, he said, “Over here, this is mine.”
Following this, the kisses traveled to her scapula, fingertips, waist, and abdomen. “These are mine.”
He consumed her explosively as he declared, “And here, it can only belong to me.”
It was as if he wanted to brand his name and presence on her physically.
“Yun Shishi, your every inch belongs to me!”
She broke down out of the blue. “What about you, then? Do you belong to me?”
His action fell short upon hearing that and looked quizzically at the teary-eyed woman lying below him.
“Does this belong to me?” She brushed his lips.
“And does this belong to me?” She touched his chest.
“Have you said those words to Mu Wanrou as well?
“Did you kiss and want her the way you kiss and want me?
“If I belong to you, then what about Mu Wanrou?”
…
Honestly, what made him think that only he could get jealous here? Was she not the same, too?
He was insanely jealous, and so was she.
She was stuck in an unfair relationship with him now. On what grounds could he demand that she was to belong to him entirely?
…
At dawn.
He went to take a shower in the bathroom. After he put on his bathrobe, he slowly walked and stood before the floor-to-ceiling window. Expressionlessly, he lit up a cigarette with a click of his lighter and then a whiff of tobacco smell slowly permeated the air in the room.
A wisp of smoke puffed and dispersed between his lips.
From the window reflection, he could see the woman curling up into a fetal position in her sleep in the bed.
He walked toward the bed and sat by its edge. Lowering his gaze on to her sleeping profile, he observed her incredible beauty. Her furrowed sweet brows and her messy raven hair complemented her fair skin.
He did it with her several times, so now her face showed exhaustion, which pointed to his high vitality.
He reached out, grasped a bunch of her hair in his hand and sniffed its sweet fragrance.
Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes again as her words rang in his head.
‘You say that I belong to you, then do you belong to me?
‘If I belong to you, then what about Mu Wanrou? Does she belong to you, too?
‘Do you belong to her?’
…
Based on his sharp intuition, he figured that something had happened while he was not around.
Mu Wanrou?
Could it be that she has said something to her?
This was only a guess.
Before he left the country, he specifically arranged a team of bodyguards to follow and protect her wherever she went.
The report he received was that she had been filming at the production set all this time and had not come into contact with anyone else during his period of absence.
…
When she woke up, it was already late in the afternoon.
The curtains were tightly drawn across the windows, casting oppressive and nearly suffocating shadows over the bedroom.
There was no one beside her in the bed.
She held her dizzy and heavy head and sat up. Flipping away the quilt, she saw that her body was now clean and dry with a bathrobe covering it.
There was a stack of fresh and new clothes laid neatly next to the bed. Every item, from the lingerie to the overcoat, was according to her exact size.
