LOGIN"It’s time to change the dressing," Xavier Grayson said, his voice dropping into a low, resonant vibration that echoed against the tiled walls of the kitchen.Chloe Bishop’s eyes flickered with confusion. "If you want your bandages changed, go back to the bedroom. This is the kitchen."Why was he here? The medical kit was upstairs. More importantly, why had he locked the door? Chloe sensed the predatory shift in his gaze and immediately tried to sidestep him to leave, but Xavier’s arm shot out like a coil of steel. He caught her by the waist, pulling her flush against his chest. The cold, sharp scent of his cologne filled her lungs."But I’m still hungry," he whispered, his breath ghosting over her lips. "The wontons were... discarded."Chloe’s heart hammered against her ribs as she looked up at the dangerous smirk playing on his lips. "What else do you want to eat? I’ll cook it for you.""What do you think?"Before she could answer, her feet left the floor. Xavier lifted her effortle
"You must have been sleeping like the dead," Chloe Bishop hissed, her teeth gritted in a rare display of outward fury.The master suite was a graveyard of her hard work. Paper snow covered the mahogany floors, yet Xavier sat there with the unshakable poise of a king, his sharp brows arching in a silent challenge. "Say that again," he commanded, his voice low and vibrating with a dangerous authority.Chloe knew he was gaslighting her. Guilt was a concept that simply didn't exist in Xavier Grayson's internal vocabulary. She didn't have the energy to argue; she simply knelt and began the soul-crushing task of gathering the fragments. It took several trips to clear the floor, her heart sinking with every jagged piece of paper she touched.Satisfied with the chaos he had sown, Xavier finally rose and headed for the dining hall.The scent of handmade shrimp wontons and Chloe’s signature sesame oil filled the air—a domestic warmth that stood in stark contrast to the frost in Xavier’s eyes. L
Vince stood in the foyer, his mind racing as he looked at Xavier’s terrifyingly cold expression. He hesitated, then whispered, "This morning, the Young Mistress asked me for a pill. She took it with her milk."A pill. Milk.The realization hit Xavier like a physical blow. The morning-after pill.He remembered now—at the Bishop residence, he hadn't forced her to take any precautions. He had assumed she would be "sensible," and she had indeed been "sensible." She had taken the initiative to ensure no Grayson heir would be conceived in the middle of their battlefield. But instead of being relieved, Xavier felt a dark, suffocating weight settle in his chest. Her "sensibility" felt like a rejection of any future they might have had.Vince watched as Xavier turned and stormed back upstairs without a word. The butler sighed, wondering why the Master had woken him in the middle of the night just to radiate enough coldness to freeze the manor.Back in the master suite, Xavier grabbed the medic
Xavier Grayson stood in the doorway, his silhouette casting a long, imposing shadow across the master suite. He watched Chloe Bishop intently. Still studying, he thought, a cold smirk touching his lips. In his world, the Bishop Group was a titan that required more than just "effort" to tame. To Xavier, Chloe’s attempts to master the intricacies of corporate warfare in a few months were laughable. Even with five years of study, a woman like her—too beautiful, too refined—would be devoured by the "wolves" of Haicheng’s business districts before she could even take her seat at the head of the table.In his mind, her most logical path was simple: stop wasting time on books and learn how to please the man who already held the world in his palm.But as the minutes passed and Chloe didn't so much as glance in his direction, the "Demon CEO’s" pride began to sour. The silence in the room felt like a personal insult. Driven by a sudden, icy impulse, Xavier walked to the wall and—snap—the lights
The maids at the Vance manor stood trembling, their heads bowed. "It was... it was the Matriarch's command," one whispered, unable to meet Liam Vance’s burning gaze.Liam’s face darkened, his jaw tightening until the bone nearly snapped. He turned to storm back into the house, ready to confront Victoria Vance for her heartless cruelty, but a small, frantic tug on his lapel stopped him."Uncle Liam, please... don't take me back in there," Maddy Vance sobbed, her tiny hands clutching his designer coat as if it were a life raft. "Grandma is a bad person. She’s a witch. I want to go home... I want my Mommy..."The raw terror in her voice broke the last of Liam’s restraint. He looked down at the child, her eyes swollen into red slits, and gently wiped the tears from her cooling cheeks. "Okay, Maddy," he whispered, his voice cracking with a rare tenderness. "Uncle is taking you to her right now. I promise."Without looking back, Liam carried her to his car. Behind him, the maids scrambled t
In the cold, high-society circles of Haicheng, the fall of a woman was usually a silent, clinical affair. For Sarah Vance, the transition was absolute. Overnight, she had become a ghost in the very world she had helped build. With the Vance Matriarch, Victoria, and Arthur framing her as a "burden" and a "dependent," the doors of the elite slammed shut. Even the Bishop Family manor, once her sanctuary, had become a den of vipers. Her own mother was gone, and her father, Charles Bishop, was a fallen pillar. In her place sat a stepmother and the grasping Sara Jay, women who viewed Sarah’s downfall not as a tragedy, but as a chance to scavenge the remains.Arthur convinced himself the math was simple: without money, Sarah was toothless. He believed that Maddy staying with him was the only "logical" choice, even if it meant the child "suffered" a little during the transition.But that night, the silence at the Vance ancestral home was shattered by something Arthur couldn't calculate: the p







