Chapter 8

“She said that,” Elena replied, pointing at Yoselin while looking up at Holden.

Both Yoselin and Zheneria froze.

Was the “pretty boy” Elena talked about… actually this man?

God!

Yoselin felt as if she had slapped herself in the face—hard.

At that moment, the store manager returned and handed Holden a strawberry jam cake. “Sir, here is your order.”

“Let’s go,” Holden said calmly.

“Okay.” Elena followed him out, turning back slightly to wave a little goodbye at Yoselin.

Yoselin stood rooted to the ground. She had never imagined Elena would be this fortunate—to have a man like that beside her.

“Yoselin… I think you might really have to call Elena your boss,” Zheneria muttered blankly.

Yoselin shot her a vicious glare.

“I mean,” Zheneria continued with a grin, “if Elena is keeping a pretty boy this gorgeous… how much does it cost to raise him?”

Yoselin, normally confident and praised as attractive, felt crushed. Holden hadn’t looked her way once—as if she were invisible.

But Zheneria’s words reminded her of something else: a man like him wasn’t cheap to “keep.” Elena must have access to far more money than she expected.

Just the thought of that made Yoselin tremble with a twisted excitement.

“Manager, please give us the cake we ordered. We’re leaving,” Yoselin said, heading to the counter.

“I’m sorry, ladies,” the shop manager said politely, “your payment will be refunded—doubled, even. But this cake can no longer be given to you.”

“Why?” Yoselin and Zheneria were stunned.

The manager gave a thin, bitter smile.

“Because this cake is reserved for my dog.”

…what?

“Manager! Are you humiliating us?” Yoselin slammed her hand on the counter, rising in anger.

“Humiliating you?” the owner shot back. “Isn’t it humiliating enough for me already? You offended a very powerful man. Even if this cake is meant for dogs, you won’t be getting it!”

---

The luxury car stopped in front of Green Garden. Holden handed Elena a black, gold-stamped card.

“Here. Take it.”

Elena’s fingers trembled. Why was he giving her his card?

“This isn’t mine,” she said, shaking her head.

Holden curled his thin lips into a lazy smirk. “You can’t afford to feed me with that pale face of yours. But you—” His eyes darkened slightly. “I can afford to feed my wife.”

My wife.

The words slid out in that low, seductive voice, and Elena felt her heart contract sharply. It wouldn’t stop racing.

She immediately opened the car door and jumped out.

This man was a tyrant. A complete tyrant.

---

Elena carefully stepped into the living room, slipping the black card into her bag.

“Elena, you’re back. How did things go with your family today?” Mrs. Lu asked, smiling warmly.

“Grandma, everything went well. Come, let’s eat cake together.”

“Oh, I love cake,” the old lady said, waddling into the living room eagerly, hands outstretched.

Holden entered next. Instead of going into the living room, he walked upstairs. Halfway up, he paused and looked down at his grandmother.

“Grandma, you have high blood pressure. Just a little bit.”

“I know, I know,” she said honestly—right before stuffing yet another forkful of cake into her mouth. “I only took a small bite. It’s delicious.”

Elena giggled at the old lady, then turned to look at Holden on the stairs. “Do you want some too?”

“No,” he said flatly. He didn’t like sweets.

“Oh.”

“The corner of your mouth…” he added.

Elena blinked. The veil that usually covered her face had lifted from the movement, revealing part of her delicate jawline and the curve of her crimson lips.

Her cherry-colored lips were stunning.

He remembered a magazine once featuring a list titled “Lips Men Most Want to K!ss at First Sight.” Elena’s lips would be at the very top.

She had a small smudge of cream on them now.

The moment he mentioned it, Elena stuck out her tongue and licked the tiny smear away.

Holden clenched his jaw, tugging at the knot of his shirt collar. His Adam’s apple rolled as he turned and walked upstairs into the study.

Elena’s ears burned red. That look in his eyes had nearly melted her—combined with him loosening his tie? Lethal.

She quickly grabbed a tissue and wiped her lips.

---

“Grandma, who is that man?” Elena asked the housekeeper as an elderly gentleman was led upstairs.

“Oh, that is Mr. Nan Yuan,” the butler replied. “He comes once a month.”

Elena’s heart skipped.

Mr. Nan Yuan—an internationally known hypnosis master. She had studied medicine; of course she knew his name.

If he was here, it must be for Holden’s sleep disorder.

That meant the condition was far worse than she thought.

She grew uneasy and walked to the study door. Suddenly, strange noises echoed inside. Alarmed, she pushed the door open.

The study was a mess. Papers scattered across the floor. A broken clock in Mr. Nan Yuan’s hand. And Holden—standing in front of the desk, chest rising and falling like a beast barely contained. Veins bulged on the back of his hands.

He looked up as the door opened. His deep, narrow eyes locked onto hers.

They were bloodshot—horrifyingly so—filled with humiliation, violence, and pain.

He looked like a different man entirely.

“Get out,” Holden snapped, his thin lips forming a cold arc. “Get. Out.”

Elena didn’t move.

The butler hurriedly helped Mr. Nan Yuan outside, carrying the broken clock.

The door closed behind them.

Two worlds separated by a single door.

“Mr. Nan Yuan, are you all right?” Elena asked.

“At first,” he sighed, “I could hypnotize Master Lu and let him rest for a day each month. But his mind now runs too fast. He is hyper-alert. His mental defenses are terrifyingly strong. I can no longer put him under.”

Elena wasn’t surprised. Holden was brilliant, cautious, composed, and exceptionally controlled—almost unnaturally so.

She turned the lock, took a breath, and reached for the doorknob again.

“No, Miss Elena, it’s dangerous!” Butler Freddy panicked. “Do you forget what happened last night?”

“That’s why I must go in,” Elena said firmly. “If his sleep disorder evolves into a mental break, he won’t be able to suppress the dark side inside him. The second personality could take over completely.”

Freddy blanched.

Elena pushed the door open and stepped in.

“Get out. Don’t make me say it a third time,” Holden growled, the shadows in his eyes deepening.

Elena walked toward him, a bright sparkle in her gaze. “I just want to see what happens when you say it the third time.”

Holden trembled with effort. His veins bulged further. His self-control was slipping.

He didn’t want to hurt her.

“Leave!” he roared, reaching out and shoving her away.

Elena lost balance. Her body fell forward—and her forehead slammed hard against the sharp corner of the coffee table.

Blood instantly spilled down her face.

“Hiss—” she gasped, clutching her forehead as warm blood gushed between her fingers.