Nathaniel Fu lowered his handsome eyes, waiting for her kiss. His arm, resting casually on the chair, slipped down to her delicate shoulders, pulling her firmly into his embrace. In the next moment, he took control and kissed her.
Celia's kisses were clumsy and unpracticed, but Nathaniel was a patient teacher—and she, a quick learner. After a few tentative exchanges, they quickly found a rhythm, their lips and tongues moving with a natural harmony that left them both breathless.
After a while, Celia pushed him back slightly. "Mr. Fu, has anyone ever fed you chocolate like this?"
Nathaniel's black shirt and loosened tie gave him an air of restrained elegance, but his focus was entirely on her rare display of boldness. Distracted, he didn't catch her words. "What?"
The instant he asked, Celia felt as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her. She realized she had crossed the line again.
Why was she asking about his past? About the other women who had been close to him? What right did she have?
"Nothing." Celia leaned softly against his chest, hiding her embarrassment. Nathaniel wrapped her securely in his arms, lowering his head just enough that only she knew he had kissed her moments ago.
The others were still engrossed in their game of cards, unaware of what had transpired. The aloof business tycoon—who never brought women along to such occasions—was now kissing her in a dimly lit private room. Unbelievable, yet intoxicatingly real.
When Nathaniel finally lifted his head, the strawberry-flavored chocolate that had been in her mouth was now melting on his tongue. He bit into the hazelnut center with a soft crunch.
No one dared interrupt.
Holding her close, his voice dropped low and hoarse, carrying a restrained anger. "What right do you have to tell me it's over?"
Celia stayed quiet, nestled obediently in his arms.
He continued, "You were the one at fault—getting entangled with another man. And you still dared to text me, saying you wanted to end things? We agreed on six months, Celia. This is only the first month."
Her clear eyes lifted, shimmering like dark glass as she pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, a wordless apology.
Nathaniel's gaze deepened. "So—you want to make peace with me?"
She nodded softly. "Yes."
"Then we make peace now."
"…Okay."
Just like that, the two of them reconciled.
Nathaniel's arm slid down, encircling her slender waist. His voice was low, coaxing. "Cici, don't you have something to say to me?"
Her legs trembled faintly. That same question—he had asked it over the phone the night before. Now he was asking it again, face-to-face.
Her red lips brushed along the firm line of his jaw, planting intermittent kisses. "Mr. Fu, what do you want to hear?"
He studied her luminous eyes, the intelligence and teasing within them. She already knew the answer. He smirked faintly. "You're asking even though you know."
A smile bloomed between them—unspoken understanding. Whenever Nathaniel asked, what he wanted to hear was simple: I miss you.
And he did.
But he couldn't linger here any longer. His gaze burned into her. "Let's go."
"Yes."
Celia rose gracefully and walked ahead. Nathaniel slipped on his suit jacket and followed.
Just then, Wen Shaoqian intercepted them. "Nancheng, are you two back together again? Didn't you say last time you were done?"
Nathaniel gave him a brief, dismissive glance. "No."
Without another word, he strode off.
Song Zilin sauntered over, displeased. "Shaoqian, is your second brother still spoiling Celia?"
Wen Shaoqian chuckled. "Of course. They fight, they make up—it's what people in love do."