(Yichen's POV)
Resign?
She's resigning?
Is she out of her mind?! After everything I've done—after all those nights staying late at the office to work hard, after giving her the chance to shine—she's giving up?
I shot up from my seat, the chair screeching against the floor. My pulse was a low, angry drum inside my head. Before I could think twice, I was already walking toward them.
Both of them turned in surprise—her, wide-eyed, and her chief, frozen mid-sentence.
Without a word, I reached for the table and snatched the envelope from in front of him.
Their expressions mirrored shock.
"Resigning is not an option for you," I said, my voice calm but sharp as glass.
Hua stared at me—no, glared. The same woman who used to smile now looked at me like I was the villain in her story.
"Give me that!"
She reached for the envelope, fingers brushing mine, but in her rush she lost balance—and fell right into my arms.
For one wild heartbeat, everything froze. Her body was pressed against mine, soft, warm. My instinct screamed to hold her, to not let go.
But then she recoiled—pulled back so fast, as if I'd burned her.
She grabbed her purse, turned to her chief, and said with trembling fury, "You won't see me on Monday."
Then she walked out.
My jaw locked. I turned to the man still sitting there, completely lost. "Don't listen to her. This meeting never happened."
And then I followed her.
___
Outside, the air was thick and heavy, the kind that sticks to your skin and makes you feel like you're breathing steam.
"Where are you going?" I shouted.
She didn't even turn around. "As far as I can from you!"
Ouch.
I grabbed her wrist before she could cross the street, forcing her to face me.
"How can you resign?!" My voice cracked with something between anger and desperation. "Why would you even—"
"By giving my boss the letter you stole from him," she snapped, wrenching her hand free.
And she started walking again.
Of course, I followed.
"No, I mean—why? Why, Hua?"
She stopped so abruptly I almost bumped into her.
"I don't want to see you again," she shouted, voice breaking, "That's why!"
People were staring now, heads turning, but she didn't care.
"Is it because of last night—"
I didn't even finish. Her palm pressed against my lips, silencing me.
"Don't talk about that."
She looked serious—hurt, embarrassed, adorable all at once.
Something in me snapped.
I didn't care about the crowd. Or my brother. Or the stupid deal that chained me.
If Yiran wouldn't let me have her—then I'd steal her.
Before she could take another step, I bent down, hooked my arms around her, and lifted her off the ground.
She gasped, struggling in my hold. "Put me down, Yichen!"
"No."
I started walking.
She hit my shoulder a few times, but it was weak, unconvincing. "You can't just—carry me like—like some bag of rice!"
"Watch me," I muttered.
My apartment wasn't far—just a few blocks away. Each step felt heavier, not because of her weight but because of what I was doing. Still, I didn't stop.
Eventually, she stopped fighting too. Her hands clutched my shirt instead of pushing me away, her face hidden against my neck.
When we finally reached my place, I kicked the door open and set her down gently.
She didn't even look at me.
I pointed to the pair of grey slippers sitting by the entrance—the ones she used to wear. "Your slippers are there."
Her expression didn't soften. If anything, she looked ready to throw them at my face.
"What do you want, Yichen?!" she screamed.
"Why are you so mad?" I asked quietly.
"Why am I—?!" She let out a breathless laugh, like she couldn't believe I'd asked that. Then she made for the door.
I moved before she could reach it, blocking her way.
"Just tell me you won't resign," I said, "and I'll let you go."
It wasn't fair. I knew it. But I couldn't help it.
She worked so damn hard for her position—for years. She deserved that recognition. And now, because of me, she was ready to throw it all away?
I couldn't allow it.
"Why would I stay there?" she asked softly, eyes wet.
"Because you worked hard for it," I said. "Because you're good at it. Because the company values you."
She laughed. A dry, bitter sound that cut right through me.
"Sure. The company values me."
She shook her head, wiping at her eyes. "Okay, you made your point. Now, can you let me go?"
"No."
Before she could move again, I grabbed her wrist and pulled her into me. My arms wrapped around her almost instinctively.
My heart was pounding so hard I was sure she could feel it.
Then—
"Ow!"
I jumped back. "You bit me?!"
She glared. "Let me go!"
I rubbed the spot on my shoulder, completely stunned. She really bit me.
But even then, she looked too beautiful for me to stay mad.
She was furious, trembling, breathing hard—and all I could think was how much I loved her.
"Stay here," I said gently. "Please?"
She blinked, caught off guard by my tone. For once, I let her see it—the worry, the softness, the care I'd been hiding behind that cold, robotic mask.
"Why would I do that?" she whispered.
Her voice was cold, but there was a flicker of something else underneath.
She moved toward the door again, grabbed the access badge hanging from my neck, and leaned it toward the card reader.
The machine beeped.
But before she could step in, I pressed her back gently against the door.
Her breath hitched.
My hand slid up to her hair, brushing a stray strand behind her ear. Her eyes darted up to mine—confused, wary.
From her hair, my fingers trailed down the side of her face.
"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked, voice trembling. "Why can't you just let me go?"
Because I can't. Because somewhere along the way, she became the only thing that made sense.
I swallowed hard. "Because I—"
She looked at me, waiting.
"I love you."
The words fell out raw, heavy, real.
Shock widened her eyes. For a long second, she didn't breathe.
Neither did I.
Then my gaze fell to her lips—those lips that haunted me every night.
I leaned closer, stopping just a few inches away.
Am I forcing this? Am I crossing a line again?
Before the guilt could take over, she grabbed my collar and pulled me to her.
Our lips met—this time not in drunken impulse, not in confusion, but in desperate clarity.
It was everything I'd imagined and more.
The taste of her, the heat of her breath, the way she melted against me.
My hand slid from her cheek to her waist, drawing her closer. Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling, teasing, making me lose control.
I lifted her easily, and she wrapped her legs around me, clutching at my shoulders.
We stumbled toward the sofa, the world blurring around us.
When we fell onto it, our lips never broke apart.
Every kiss was hungry, reckless, weeks of tension spilling all at once.
Her soft moans tangled with my name, and my chest burned with something fierce and new.
I left her lips for her neck, breathing in her scent until I thought I'd go mad.
She arched beneath me, her hands in my hair, guiding me closer.
I trailed kisses up her jaw, ready to return to her mouth—
And then my phone rang.
I ignored it.
Then the doorbell rang.
Twice.
"Seriously?" I groaned, forehead against hers.
She laughed breathlessly. "Maybe it's important."
"Nothing's more important than this." I kissed her again, but the ringing didn't stop.
Growling, I reached for the intercom screen on the table—only to freeze.
Yiran.
And my father.
Perfect. Just perfect.
Bad timing. Really bad timing for a family reunion.
I looked back at Hua. She was still flushed from our kiss, hair messy, lips swollen.
Her expression shifted—from annoyance to panic as soon as she saw the screen.
"You have to hide," I said quickly.
"What? Where?!"
She looked utterly lost, adorable even in her panic. I leaned down and stole a quick kiss.
"Focus," she whispered, smiling despite everything.
"The laundry room," I said, grabbing her hand and leading her there.
She looked so small standing in that cramped little space. It didn't feel right to leave her like that.
So I ran back to the kitchen, grabbed a chair, a bottle of water, a snack, and one of the books she said she loved on her Instagram.
Yes, I stalked. Just a little...
Anyways,
I set them beside her. "Don't make too much noise while eating, okay?"
She nodded, a tiny smile ghosting her lips. That smile—God, I'd missed it.
For a moment, I almost forgot about the two demons waiting outside.
Then the doorbell rang again.
Duty called.
I took one last look at her before closing the door gently.
"Stay quiet," I whispered.
And then I went to face the storm.
To be continued...