*************************************Cheng caught Lian’s wrist gently as he passed. “Are you okay?”Lian nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine.”But his eyes were glassy. His breathing shallow.Cheng leaned in close, voice low. “Did he touch you?”“No.” Lian swallowed. “He just… offered me a check.”Cheng’s face turned to stone.“I said no,” Lian added quickly. “I told him he could go to hell.”Cheng exhaled like he hadn’t realized he was holding his breath. His hand tightened just slightly around Lian’s.“Good girl,” he said, quietly but fiercely.************************************************ THE WILSON VILLA *********"Finally back to this deadass house," Mei muttered, tossing her bag onto the couch like she owned the place.Footsteps pounded from the stairs. Mrs. Wilson appeared, her face pale with shock. "What the actual fuck, Mei? What are you doing in Spain? You’re supposed to be in Portugal!"Mei rolled her eyes. "Damn, Ma. I show up and that’s the welcome I get? You ain't even gonna as
“you're parents”. The word tasted bitter in Lian’s mouth.“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”“Would you have slept if I had?”Lian didn’t answer. He already knew the truth.Cheng stepped closer, his tone softening. “Just be yourself. They won’t bite.”Lian laughed, humorless. “That’s great, coming from a man whose father once shot someone over an undercooked steak.”Cheng smirked. “He won’t shoot you.” Cheng didn't bother to ask how he knew about what his fafher did.Lian arched a brow. “You sure?”“He wouldn't dare,” Cheng admitted, and gently brushed a strand of hair behind Lian’s ear, “but I’d take the bullet first.”The intimacy of that gesture caught Lian off guard. He looked away quickly, pretending not to feel the warmth blooming in his chest.He pretended to smooth the fabric of the robe, trying to ignore the heat climbing up his neck.“You don’t need to say things like that,” he said, his voice quieter now.Cheng tilted his head, still watching him. “I don’t say anything I don
Cheng’S PRIVATE VILLA – NIGHTThe Rolls pulled into the driveway just as the villa’s exterior lights flicked on, casting golden glows against stone walls. The chauffeur exited the car, opening the door.Lian stepped out, the hem of his deep blue dress catching the breeze. Cheng emerged next, moving with that careless, predatory grace of his — all lean muscle and sharp confidence. His jacket was off, sleeves rolled up, collar unbuttoned. That usual smirk lingered on his lips — half arrogance, half amusement.“I don’t like being ignored,” he said coolly as Lian brushed past him.“I’m not ignoring you,” Lian murmured without turning. “I’m just… tired.”“Oh, you’re definitely ignoring me,” Cheng replied, following him inside. “You’ve been quiet since we left the boutique. That usually means you’re overthinking again.”Lian stopped in the foyer and turned to face him. “I’m not used to being… paraded around.”Cheng raised a brow, stepping closer, hands slipping casually into his pockets. “
*************************************Lian turned slightly. “Sorry, I’m not ready yet—”He froze.A tall, blonde-haired woman stood just inside the boutique. She wore a trench coat and sunglasses, despite the warm weather, and carried a small quilted handbag. Her aura was expensive. Elegant. Confident. But familiar.Not until she removed her glasses.Lian’s blood went cold.It was Vivian.“you……” Lian muttered.Vivian’s lips curved in amusement as she stared at him.“Ueah me! Well,” she said softly. “I heard the rumors… but seeing you today? Much more entertaining.”Lian stepped back slightly, his pulse pounding. “What… what are you doing here?”Vivian tilted her head. “Shopping. Obviously.”She walked slowly around the room, her heels tapping in a gentle rhythm. “I heard Cheng was marrying you for real,” she added casually. “Didn’t believe it at first. You were always the reckless one, the wildest bitch. Not exactly bride material.”Lian's heart raced. Wildest bitch?He tried not to
FLORENCE UNIVERSITY – ART HISTORY LECTURE HALLLian clutched the leather strap of his bag a little tighter as he walked into the lecture hall. The polished floors clicked beneath his heels. Every movement, every glance, every breath in the room felt too loud.He spotted an empty seat in the middle row and made his way toward it, head low. Don’t attract attention. Don’t trip. Don’t—He paused.Andy.Sitting two seats away, hunched slightly over his sketchpad, legs crossed the same casual way Lian remembered from back then. He looked the same — messy curls, leather wristband, a silver ring he always fidgeted with when he was anxious.Lian’s chest tightened.He hesitated for only a second before sliding into the seat beside him.Andy didn’t look up.The professor’s voice started in the background — introductions, syllabus, brushwork techniques — but Lian barely heard any of it. His skin prickled. His thoughts were louder than anything around him.He risked a glance.Andy finally turned h
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * CHENG’S PRIVATE VILLA — COURTYARD, LATE AFTERNOONLian sat curled up in one of the ivy-covered corners of the courtyard, knees pulled close, sketchbook in his lap. He hadn’t drawn in days — the pencil hovered above the paper, uncommitted. It was hard to be creative when you felt like a caged songbird… with clipped wings.The fountain trickled behind him, masking footsteps. But he felt someone approaching.“Miss Mei.”Lian tensed at the name, looking up slowly.Jin stood in the courtyard entrance, as rigid and unreadable as always, but his tone wasn’t as cold. Not today.“You’re getting good at sneaking up on me,” Lian murmured, returning his gaze to the page.“I wasn’t trying to sneak.”“Then what do you want?”Jin didn’t move closer. Just stood there, hands clasped behind his back. “Master gave me a message. For you.”Lian looked up again — brows lifted. “A message? What, he finally remembered I exist?”A flicker of something crossed