Fang Tianzhuo started his Passat; his phone rang—Chen Yuqi. He smirked. He'd expected this, just not so soon.
"Darling Tianzhuo, where are you? Let's meet." Her honeyed voice oozed familiarity.
"Aren't you tending to Luo? He's passed out."
"Jealous? Like you said—he's unconscious." She purred.
Silence. He didn't trust her.
"What? Scared Luo'll find out? I have to talk to you. Relax—I won't rape you." Her words were crass, but threatening.
"I'm by Hanyang Guqin Terrace, under the bridge, watching the river. Come if you dare." He was irritable.
"Stay. I'm coming. Or tomorrow, Luo'll see you as a rival." She hung up, confident.
Thirty minutes later, a car approached. He flashed his high beams; it swerved toward him—her BMW.
She killed the engine, sliding into his passenger seat.
"Miss me?" She pounced, lips seeking his.
Heat surged. Her fur coat gaped, revealing a skimpy silk nightgown. Even in dim light, her bare thighs glowed. His hand drifted upward, finding warmth, dampness—she wore no panties.
"Sexy, isn't it? Want me?" She writhed.
His body ignited. She kissed him, unbuckling his belt, freeing him. Expertly, she took him in her mouth, then straddled him, lowering herself onto him. Face flushed, she rode him hard, a conqueror on a steed.
Pleasure blurred his vision—then Luo's face, Rui Jie's tears, the memory of that 18-year-old girl in the hospital flooded in. His passion cooled; he softened. Her movements slowed.
"What's wrong? You're distracted." She pouted.
"Thinking—how long can this last? You're his woman."
"Afraid to lose me? Obey me, and we'll do this till you can't." She pressed his face to her chest.
"Obey? What do you want?"
"Heh. You're not stupid."
She climbed off, fixing his pants, lighting a cigarette. He started the car, turning on the AC, and lit one too.
"Ever dream of being a boss?" she asked.
"With no home? Please." He scoffed.
"You could. But not if you stay with Luo. He'll keep you small."
"Betray him?"
"Not betray—destroy." Her tone sharpened.
He heard her hatred—for the man who'd cost her motherhood, her wholeness.
"But you're his woman. Why this?" He feigned ignorance.
"None of your business. Obey, and you'll profit. Refuse, and you'll end up poor… or in jail." She was dead serious, no trace of playfulness.
"What's the plan? I need to know."
"Not now. Just trust me."
"Sorry. Luo's been good to me. I won't turn on him. Find someone else."
"Tsk, tsk. You think you have a choice?"
"Why not? Who knows about us? You film us? Pregnant?" He winced—pregnant was a low blow.
Her face darkened, eyes blazing. "I like your ruthlessness. No, we didn't film. I don't want to taint what we have. Luo wouldn't care anyway."
"Then why listen? You're doing this for me?"
"For us. We both win. Why resist?" She sounded earnest.
"At least tell me why. What's your beef with Luo?"
"I can't. But trust me—I've had many men in eight years. You're the only one who matters." Tears spilled.
Eight years—when Luo left her, when her life shattered. He believed her.
"Yuqi, I'm sorry." He pulled her close, stroking her thigh, trying to warm her.
She melted into him. "You'll help me?"
"I… "
She covered his mouth. "Sleep on it. One night." She kissed him fiercely, reigniting his desire.
Breaking away, she stripped off her gown. He stopped her, cupping her breasts. "Won't you tell me? About Luo, about why you hate him… "
He needed her trust, her truth, to commit to the unknown.
"Never. The past is gone. Only hate remains." She turned cold.
"Not even to me?"
"No."
"What am I to you? A lover? A distraction? A whore like the others?"
"Think what you want." She lit another cigarette.
"Guess you're not switching sides."
Silence.
"Fang Tianzhuo—whether you like it or not, you'll join me soon." She laughed, leaving his car.