The morning sun filtered through the velvet curtains, casting a soft golden glow over the room. Wu Mei stirred first, her lashes fluttering as her body slowly adjusted to consciousness. Her limbs ached pleasantly, wrapped beneath the satin sheets, the scent of the man beside her lingering on her skin.
She turned slightly and realized Qin Yanzhou's arms were still locked around her waist. Gently, she tried to untangle herself, careful not to wake him.
But the second her feet touched the floor, a strong arm yanked her back into the bed.
A gasp escaped her lips as she landed against his chest with a soft thud. "Yanzhou—"
He buried his face in the curve of her neck and growled playfully, his breath hot. "Where do you think you're going?"
"I thought you were asleep—"
"You were trying to leave," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep and something deeper. Possessive. "I could feel it."
"I wasn't," she whispered. "We have to get ready. Your grandmother's party—"
He silenced her with a kiss to her neck, followed by a playful bite that sent shivers down her spine.
"Let them wait," he said, lips brushing against her skin. "I hate waking up without you."
Her heart thudded. He sounded afraid. Afraid she would disappear again.
She turned, cupping his cheek. "I'm here. I'm not leaving."
His eyes searched hers for a long moment, then he nodded once and pulled her close, breathing her in as if grounding himself.
Later that day, Wu Mei stood at the entrance of a grand estate dressed in a sapphire gown that hugged her curves. Beside her, Qin Yanzhou wore a dark suit, sharp and commanding, his hand resting protectively on her lower back as they stepped into the lavish party celebrating his grandmother's 80th birthday.
The hall shimmered with crystal chandeliers and soft violin music. Noble guests murmured in groups, sipping champagne and offering polite smiles.
Wu Mei was just starting to relax when she saw him.
He Sheng.
He was standing near the buffet table in a tailored gray suit, sipping from a glass of wine, his eyes trained directly on her. She stiffened, and Qin Yanzhou immediately sensed it.
"What is it?" he asked, already scanning the crowd.
"He's here," she murmured.
Qin Yanzhou's eyes darkened when he saw He Sheng.
"He won't touch you," he muttered.
One hour into the event, Wu Mei excused herself to the restroom. She slipped down the hallway and pushed into the quiet powder room. Just as she washed her hands, the door creaked open behind her.
"He Sheng," she said sharply, startled.
He stepped inside and closed the door. "I just want to talk."
"This isn't the place—"
He reached for her arm and grabbed her wrist. "You've changed, Mei, but I don't believe you've stopped loving me."
"Let me go," she snapped.
But he pulled her closer. "Just one kiss," he whispered. "That's all I want—"
The door burst open.
Qin Yanzhou stood in the doorway like a storm unleashed, his eyes filled with pure rage.
"He Sheng," he growled.
He crossed the room in two strides and shoved He Sheng against the wall with one arm, the other pulling Wu Mei into his embrace.
"She's not yours," he snarled. "Don't touch her."
He didn't wait for a reply. Instead, he walked out with Wu Mei in his arms, shielding her from curious glances as they exited the party.
Back at the penthouse, the silence was suffocating.
Wu Mei followed Qin Yanzhou through the door, unsure of what to say. He didn't look at her. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, then another. And another.
"Yanzhou—"
"You didn't stop him fast enough," he muttered.
Her eyes widened. "What?"
"You hesitated," he said, finally turning to her, eyes glassy from the alcohol but blazing with jealousy. "Do you still love him?"
"No," she said immediately. "I told him no, I tried to pull away—"
"But you didn't slap him. You didn't scream."
"Because I didn't want to cause a scene at your grandmother's party!"
He stared at her like he didn't know whether to believe her. Then he laughed bitterly and refilled his glass.
"I've never been scared of losing something before," he muttered. "But with you, I feel like I'm going mad."
An hour passed. Qin Yanzhou sat on the couch, shirt unbuttoned, hair messy, glass empty. The bottle of whiskey sat beside him.
Wu Mei emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a silky lavender lingerie set—soft lace and thin straps clinging to her skin. She froze when she saw him.
He looked up—and his breath caught.
She stepped closer. "Yanzhou," she said gently, kneeling beside him.
He didn't speak.
Instead, he reached out and pulled her into his lap, cradling her as his lips crashed onto hers with desperation. His kiss was hot, consuming—tasting of whiskey and heartbreak.
"Do you love me?" he whispered, pulling back just an inch.
"I do," she said, breathless.
"Then prove it."
He kissed her again, deeper this time, his hands sliding along her bare thighs, her waist, then up her spine. He stood, carrying her to the bedroom. She wrapped her arms around his neck, heart racing.
When they reached the bed, he laid her down and kissed her throat, her collarbone, the curve of her breast. His lips branded her with every touch, making sure she wouldn't forget who she belonged to.
His voice was low as he whispered, "Mine. Only mine."
Her fingers tangled in his hair as he trailed kisses down her stomach. When his mouth reached the waistband of her panties, he looked up at her.
"Tell me to stop."
She didn't.
She couldn't.
Instead, she pulled him closer and kiss him then he got his shirt down and put his hand in her hands and that night, they lost themselves in each other—again and again—until the only thing left was the sound of tangled breaths and the taste of redemption on their lips.