Chapter 10

* * * * * * * * * * *Cheng 'S PRIVATE VILLA – ONE WEEK LATER * * * * * * * * * * *

It had been seven days. Seven days of silence. Seven days of pretending this golden prison wasn’t eating him alive.

Lian stood at the massive window of his room, watching the morning sun, shine across the gardens like ghosts searching for something to haunt. The villa was quiet — too quiet. Like the whole estate was holding its breath.

He hadn't left the villa after that dinner party. He wasn't allowed to.

Cheng had disappeared a week ago, and not a single message, call. Just absence.

The only people Lian saw now were the emotionless staff — who bowed but never spoke to him — and Jin, the guard dog in human form, whose job seemed to be watching Lian more than protecting him.

Lian ran a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily. “I’m not a prisoner,” he told himself. But the locked gates, the shadowed cameras, and the constant silence said otherwise.

He turned from the window. The sunlit room felt colder than it should.

Just then, the double doors creaked open. Jin stepped in, his expression unreadable.

“You should eat miss,” he said simply, nodding toward the untouched tray of food.

Lian didn’t move. “Where is he?”

Jin didn’t answer. Just gave a faint shrug.

Lian’s jaw tightened. “You work for him, don’t you? Then tell him—tell him if he wants to keep me here like some pet, he better show his damn face.”

Still, no answer.

Only silence.

Until Jin muttered, almost too low to hear: “He’s coming home today.“

Lian froze.

“…What?”

But Jin was already leaving, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

And just like that — everything shifted.

Lian’s chest felt tight, his stomach turning. He hated this. Hated the panic, the twisted relief, the anger that burned hotter just because Cheng was coming back.

He wanted to hit him.

He wanted to scream.

He wanted to…

Lian didn’t know.

A FEW HOURS LATER

The sound of tires on gravel made him tense up.

Then the front doors opened.

He heard voices — low, fast, foreign. Then footsteps. Heavy ones.

Lian stepped out of his room just as Cheng walked into the hallway, unbothered. Dark coat, dark eyes, jaw clenched like he hadn’t slept. He didn’t even glance around. Just kept moving.

Until he saw Lian.

He stopped.

For a second, neither of them moved.

Then Lian walked straight toward him — fast, without thinking. His voice was loud.

“Seven days, Cheng . No call. No message. Not even a lie.”

Cheng stared at him. “I was busy.”

“Bullshit.”

Cheng stepped closer.

“That's why you left me like a prisoner? Huh!“

Cheng ’s jaw ticked.

“You’re not a prisoner.”

“Really?” Lian laughed, bitter. “Then unlock the gates and let me leave.”

Silence.

That was all the answer he needed.

Lian shook his head. “You don’t want me. You just want to control me.”

Cheng took a slow step forward.

“I left because I needed space and also needed somethings to settle,” he said, voice low. “I came back because I couldn’t stay away.”

Lian’s mouth opened — but he didn’t speak.

Cheng leaned in, close enough to feel the heat between them. “You hate me right now. I can live with that. But don’t pretend you didn’t miss me.”

Lian’s chest heaved, every nerve on fire.

“I don’t miss people who treat me like property,” he whispered, but knows he was lying he missed him madly.

“You’re lying,” he said quietly.

Lian flinched — not because of the words, but because they hit. Right in the chest. Harder than he wanted to admit.

“I’m not,” Lian said, voice breaking.

Cheng didn’t argue. He didn’t need to. He just looked at him like he already knew.

“Seven days,” Lian snapped, needing something — anything — to regain control. “You locked me in this place like I’m something you bought. You don’t own me.”

“No,” Cheng said calmly. “you're mine muñeca! .”

“I’m not yours.” Lian replied as he wondered what muneca means

Cheng stepped in — closer than before. Lian backed up instinctively, until his spine hit the cold hallway wall.

Cheng didn’t touch him. He didn’t have to.

He just leaned in, voice low and lethal.

“Then why didn’t you run when the gate was left unlocked yesterday?”

Lian’s eyes widened. “What?”

Cheng ’s smile was dark. “You think I don’t know what goes on in this house? You had two full hours. You stared at the gate through your window. I watched you. And still… you stayed.”

Lian’s breath hitched.

“You left it open—”

“I wanted to see what you’d do.”

Lian was shaking now, from rage or something else he couldn’t name. “That’s sick.”

“No,” Cheng murmured, “it’s honest. You could’ve gone. But you didn’t. So tell me again… who’s the liar here?”

Cheng ’s head turned slightly from the hit, but his eyes never left Lian’s.

“I hate you,” Lian whispered.

“You should,” Cheng said. “But you don’t.”

Then he grabbed Lian’s wrist, slow and deliberate, and pulled him in with a force that wasn’t violent — just final. Their faces were inches apart.

“I’m not letting you go,” he whispered. “Not now. Not ever.” he said walking closer to Lian.

Lian’s heart was a war drum.

“Don't come closer to me.“ Lian said

Cheng stepped even more closer.

Close enough for Lian to feel the heat between them, to smell that familiar cologne — rich, masculine, suffocating.

Cheng ’s hand found Lian’s waist, firm, possessive. The other rose, fingertips grazing the edge of his jaw before slipping behind his neck. Gently. Too gently.

Lian stiffened.

His breath hitched.

“I said stop,” he whispered — but it didn’t come out like he meant it.

Cheng tilted his head. “Then push me away.”

Lian didn’t.

He Couldn’t.

He hated this. Hated the way his pulse betrayed him, the way his stomach coiled with something dangerously close to desire. He wasn’t even supposed to like men. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not like this.

Then Cheng began to leaning his face closer to him.