Nathaniel Fu's patience snapped, and with a cold kick, he sent Yara Lu stumbling out of the room.
Left alone, she stamped her foot in frustration and stormed off, heels clicking furiously against the floor.
Silence fell.
Nathaniel rose slowly, his tall frame casting a long shadow against the dim light. His eyes drifted toward the window—it was ajar. He didn't need to guess; Celia had slipped away the moment Yara arrived.
Pulling out his phone, he dialed her number.
The melodic ringtone rang again and again, echoing in the quiet, but no one picked up. She wouldn't answer him.
Of course she wouldn't.
Nathaniel leaned back against the wall, the cool plaster pressing against his shoulders. He held the phone in his hand, staring at the screen as if willing her to appear. His thumb hovered, tempted to send her a message, but the words refused to come.
For the first time in years, he didn't know what to say.
He clenched the phone tightly, then closed his eyes in quiet frustration.
Meanwhile, back at the hotel, Xia Xiaofu returned to her room. Celia still hadn't come back. With a faint sigh, Xia Xiaofu slipped into the bathroom for a hot bath.
When she emerged, steam clung to her skin like a delicate veil. She wore a black silk nightgown with thin straps, the dark fabric making her fair complexion glow even more luminously. Droplets of water slid down her slender neck, glistening like pearls.
She settled into a rattan chair and picked up a bottle of perfume, spritzing it delicately along her collarbone and wrists. The fragrance lingered sweetly in the air.
The door clicked open behind her. Hearing the sound, Xia Xiaofu smiled faintly, assuming it was Celia. She leaned forward lazily on the chair, her hair falling over one shoulder.
"Cici, you're back just in time. Help me put some perfume on my back."
But it wasn't Celia who had entered.
It was Jin Han.
He closed the door behind him with deliberate care, his eyes narrowing as they fell on the figure before him.
Xia Xiaofu's nightgown clung to her delicate curves, the thin silk tracing every line of her body. Her posture—slightly bent forward, her back exposed—was an unintentional temptation. The perfume she had just sprayed filled the room, wrapping her in a faint, intoxicating scent.
Two years. Two years she had lived alone like this, keeping herself polished, radiant, untouchably alluring.
Jin Han picked up the perfume bottle. Without a word, he sprayed a mist along the graceful line of her neck and let his hand linger there, his fingertips brushing the warm skin.
Her skin was like flawless porcelain—smooth, cool, irresistible.
"Yes, right there, Cici," Xia Xiaofu murmured, her eyes closed in comfort. "Put on a little more. I've been filming in the mountains for months for that charity project, and I swear the sun has darkened me."
She chuckled lightly.
Jin Han froze for a fraction of a second. She thought he was Celia.
His hand moved again, slower this time, sliding down the slope of her neck.
Xia Xiaofu shivered at the touch and let out a soft laugh. "Cici, that tickles! Stop touching me like that!"
She reached back playfully to grab the hand teasing her.
But when her fingers closed around his, her smile vanished.
This wasn't Celia's hand.
Her eyes flew open—and her heart dropped.
"Mr. Jin…" she gasped, face draining of color. "Why are you here? Get out! This is my room!"
Only then did she realize his hand had already been roaming across her body.
But Jin Han didn't move. He rose from where he stood and stepped closer, his tall, commanding frame looming over her. His gaze was dark, unreadable, and his voice carried a weight that made her tremble.
"Mrs. Jin," he said evenly, "you're my wife. Your room is mine too. Why should I stay away?"
Her breath caught in panic. "If you don't leave, then I will!"
She made to push past him, but his hand shot out, gripping her slender wrist. In one swift pull, he dragged her against his chest.
"What are you doing? Let me go!" Xia Xiaofu's voice shook with anger and fear, but her strength was no match for his.
His large hands slid down her waist, lifting her effortlessly and pressing her soft body against his own. The gesture was intimate, forceful, leaving her no space to breathe.
"Didn't you accuse me," Jin Han murmured, his lips brushing her ear, "of abandoning you for two years, of leaving you alone? Tonight, I'm here to make it up to you."
His eyes glinted dangerously as he tightened his hold.
"To satisfy you fully."