Fu Jingshen's bedroom was as spacious as a small apartment. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows lay the deep of night, while inside, only a bedside lamp cast a warm, hazy glow against the dark velvet carpet. The air was thick with the scent of cedarwood—the same as the one that clung to him—so dense it felt like an invisible net, trapping Lu Chenzhou completely.
He stood three meters away from the bed, his back rigid as iron, fingers unconsciously twisting the cuffs of his loungewear. The fabric was soft, yet it chafed against his skin like sandpaper.
Fu Jingshen had changed into black silk pajamas and was leaning lazily against the headboard, a thick hardcover book in his hand. But he wasn't reading. His gaze remained fixed on Lu Chenzhou, scrutinizing him with a hint of amusement.
"Come here," he repeated, his voice lower than it had been in the dining room, laced with the stickiness of the night.
Lu Chenzhou didn't move. His Adam's apple bobbed. "Mr. Fu, I—"
"Hmm?" Fu Jingshen raised an eyebrow, dragging out the syllable with an undeniable pressure. "Have you forgotten our agreement?"
Lu Chenzhou's fists clenched at his sides, nails digging into his palms. The pain was the only thing keeping him grounded. He knew the consequences of defiance—Fu Jingshen wasn't a man who reasoned. The five million and his sister's life were blades hanging over his head.
He drew a sharp breath, like a wolf forced to submit, and took one step after another toward the bed. Each step felt like walking on knives.
When he reached the bedside, Fu Jingshen closed the book and set it aside on the nightstand. He patted the space beside him. "Lie down."
Lu Chenzhou froze, his face pale. He could feel Fu Jingshen's gaze burning into him—searing across his tense shoulders, his clenched fists, finally settling on his trembling knees.
"I… I can sleep on the floor," he forced out through gritted teeth, his voice hoarse.
Fu Jingshen chuckled softly, the sound making Lu Chenzhou's scalp prickle. "Lu Chenzhou," he reached out, his fingertips brushing against Lu Chenzhou's wrist. The cold touch made the other man flinch. "Do you really think I paid five million for a year of your company just to have you sleep on the floor?"
His fingers traveled upward, gripping Lu Chenzhou's chin and forcing him to lower his head. The distance between them vanished in an instant. Fu Jingshen's breath washed over his face, carrying the mingled scents of red wine and cedar—aggressive and intoxicating.
"Don't make me do this the hard way," Fu Jingshen's voice darkened, the warmth in his eyes fading. "I gave you a choice."
Rage surged through Lu Chenzhou again. The dull pain from where his chin was gripped, the humiliation—it all drowned him like a tidal wave. He tried to wrench free, but Fu Jingshen's other hand pressed against the back of his neck. The pressure wasn't brutal, but it was absolute, leaving him no room to struggle.
"Let me go!" he snarled, his eyes red with fury and helplessness.
Fu Jingshen didn't release him. Instead, he tightened his grip on Lu Chenzhou's neck, as though taming a wild stallion. "Behave," he murmured, leaning so close their noses almost touched. "Or I'll call the hospital right now and have your sister moved back to a general ward."
The words were like a bucket of ice water, dousing all the fire in Lu Chenzhou's veins. His body went stiff, the defiance in his eyes fading into numb resignation.
Sensing his surrender, Fu Jingshen loosened his grip, his fingers gently stroking the skin at the back of Lu Chenzhou's neck, where the muscles still quivered with tension.
"Lie down." This time, it was unmistakably an order.
After a few seconds of silence, Lu Chenzhou finally pulled back the covers and lay down rigidly on the outer edge of the bed, putting as much distance between them as possible—as if drawing an invisible line.
The mattress was unbearably soft, its dip leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable. He closed his eyes, acutely aware of Fu Jingshen's steady, even breathing beside him. It sounded like a ticking time bomb, setting every nerve on edge.
He didn't know how much time had passed when the man beside him shifted.
Fu Jingshen turned over, his arm crossing the invisible boundary to rest on Lu Chenzhou's waist. The warmth of his palm seeped through the thin fabric of the loungewear, pressing against his skin with undeniable possessiveness.
Lu Chenzhou's body went taut. He tried to pull away, but Fu Jingshen only held him tighter.
"Don't move," Fu Jingshen's voice was husky with sleep, whispered right against his ear. "Be still. The night will be over soon."
His proximity was overwhelming, his presence aggressively intimate. Every hair on Lu Chenzhou's body stood on end. He could feel Fu Jingshen's chest pressed against his back—warm, solid, and dangerously dominant.
"Mr. Fu, have some self-respect," Lu Chenzhou's voice trembled with suppressed emotion.
Fu Jingshen let out a low laugh, his hand beginning to wander along Lu Chenzhou's waist, fingertips occasionally brushing against the tense muscles of his abdomen, eliciting a shiver. "Self-respect?" He nipped at Lu Chenzhou's earlobe, his tone both teasing and cold. "As I recall, someone said, 'I agree.' Having second thoughts already?"
The sting and the unwanted intimacy made Lu Chenzhou's stomach turn. He tried to shove him away, but Fu Jingshen pinned him down effortlessly.
"Let go!" His composure shattered. He threw an elbow back, but Fu Jingshen dodged it easily.
Fu Jingshen's patience seemed to have run out. He shifted, pressing Lu Chenzhou beneath him, knee wedged between his legs, hands pinning his shoulders with enough force to bruise.
"Lu Chenzhou, don't test my limits," Fu Jingshen's face was inches away, all traces of amusement gone from his eyes, replaced by a cold, ruthless glare. "Did you think I was negotiating?"
Trapped and furious, Lu Chenzhou glared back, eyes blazing. "You bastard!"
"Yes, I am," Fu Jingshen admitted, lowering his head until his nose brushed against Lu Chenzhou's neck, his breath scalding. "But you're mine now. You'll do as I say."
His kiss was anything but gentle—it was an invasion, a punishment, crushing Lu Chenzhou's lips and silencing every protest.
Lu Chenzhou fought back, fists pounding against Fu Jingshen's back, but it was like hitting stone. Humiliation, rage, powerlessness—it all churned inside him, rising to his eyes as heat, though he refused to let it fall. Lu Chenzhou would not cry. Not even now.
Feeling his resistance, Fu Jingshen kissed him harder, until the taste of blood bloomed between them. Only then did he pull back slightly.
He studied Lu Chenzhou's flushed face, his heaving chest, and the red-rimmed eyes. Something flickered in his gaze—too fast to decipher.
"Be good," his voice was lower now, slightly rough. "Don't make this uglier than it has to be."
Lu Chenzhou turned his face away, jaw clenched tight, refusing to speak.
Fu Jingshen watched him for a long moment before finally releasing his shoulders. But he didn't move away. Instead, he buried his face in the crook of Lu Chenzhou's neck, his breath warm against his skin.
"I had your sister's medical records sent to the best lab," he said quietly. "A team of specialists will see her tomorrow."
Lu Chenzhou went still.
"She'll get better," Fu Jingshen added, his fingers tracing the line of Lu Chenzhou's jaw with unexpected gentleness. "As long as you behave."
The words struck like a needle, piercing right through his defenses. Lu Chenzhou closed his eyes, long lashes casting shadows beneath them, hiding everything he couldn't show.
Resistance was useless. It would only make things worse. He had to endure. Just one year…
Feeling the tension gradually ease from the body beneath him, Fu Jingshen smiled in satisfaction. The wild horse was still rebellious, but the reins were now in his hands.
He didn't push further. He simply held Lu Chenzhou close, arm wrapped firmly around his waist, a silent claim.
The night deepened, and the rain outside had long ceased. The room was quiet, filled only with the sound of their mingled breaths.
Lu Chenzhou lay awake, staring at the blurred shadows on the ceiling. The man beside him seemed to have fallen asleep, his breathing even. But the arm around his waist remained firm, a constant reminder of his captivity.
He was like a caged beast, his pride crushed, his freedom stolen. And his captor lay beside him—warm-breathing, dangerously close.
Lu Chenzhou didn't know how long this would last, or what he would become by the end of it. He only knew that from this night on, his world had a new, uncrossable boundary. And on the other side of it stood Fu Jingshen.
He was trapped within that line, left with no choice but to obey.