Sang Ning's breath hitched.
Her eyes fixed on the black tie wrapped around his hand, her heartbeat quickening.
She swallowed hard, pressing her lips together. "Then... let's not drink."
He casually set the glass on the bedside table before leaning in to capture her lips.
He had been drinking—whiskey lingered on his tongue. She didn’t like whiskey; it wasn’t sweet.
But this kiss… she unexpectedly loved it.
Feeling her response, his entire body seemed to ignite. Cupping her face, he deepened the kiss, their lips and tongues entwining until Sang Ning felt breathless.
Gasping slightly, she tilted her head away, only for his lips to trail down the corner of her mouth.
Her gaze caught the black tie slipping from his hand during their movements. Suddenly, she clutched the front of his shirt. "Wait."
"Hmm?" He continued kissing her neck, his scorching hands roaming her body, far too lost to stop now.
She knelt, picking up the fallen tie.
The sudden emptiness in his arms made him frown in displeasure.
Rising, she met his gaze, then pushed him back with a sudden force that sent him stumbling onto the bed.
She stepped forward, one knee pressing into the mattress as she pinned him down with a hand on his chest.
His throat bobbed, heartbeat pounding, surrendering to her control.
Taking his hand, she carefully wound the black tie around his forearm.
His arm was lean and powerful, veins faintly visible under the skin from restrained desire.
The black silk coiled around him, and after securing it with a knot, she looked up. "Don’t take it off."
Lying beneath her, his dark eyes were already clouded with lust. Fingertips brushing the loose end of the tie, he felt it burn against his skin.
"Why?" His voice was rough.
Her clear eyes held his. "Because I like it."
His fingers abruptly clenched. In one swift motion, he flipped her onto the bed.
Hungry kisses rained down as his hands tore at her dress. "I like you too, Yangyang," he murmured against her lips.
"Mmm~"
A soft moan escaped her—whether in answer or not, it didn’t matter.
It was.
Gripping her slender waist, he could hardly restrain himself, aching to meld her into his very bones.
The night stretched on, the penthouse ablaze with light for hours.
—
At the Lin Family villa, the lights burned all night.
"What have you done?! Old Madam He just called—she said the He Family won’t even consider a marriage alliance with us!" Father Lin was livid.
Lin Shuyan paled instantly. "What…?"
Mother Lin quickly interjected, "That can’t be. Old Madam He has always adored Shuyan. She wouldn’t do this."
"It’s not her decision—it’s He Siyu’s! She said he made it clear to the family: no possibility of marriage with our daughter!"
Father Lin pointed at Lin Shuyan. "What did you do to provoke him?! This match was all but settled, waiting for you to finish your studies. Now, at the last moment, you’ve ruined everything!"
Lin Shuyan’s eyes reddened with fury. "It’s all because of that bitch Nan Sangning! That vixen deliberately stirred trouble—"
"Who cares about Nan Sangning? Over some worthless woman? Did you think you could control a man like He Siyu? Weren’t you the one insisting on marrying him?"
Lin Shuyan choked on her words. "I—"
Father Lin scoffed coldly. "What a waste of such a golden opportunity. Fine. With your temper, you’d only cause trouble if you married into their family anyway. Since it’s over, let it be. Consider this the end of your delusions. Your mother will find you another match."
With that, he stormed out.
Lin Shuyan stood frozen, tears streaking her face.
He Siyu had chosen that woman over her—humiliating the Lin Family without hesitation.
How dare she?!
Her phone buzzed. Opening it, she found an unfamiliar contact—Chen Zhihan—had sent her a surveillance clip.
Frowning, she played the video: a hotel hallway, Nan Sangning knocking on Du Yao’s door, followed by his agonized screams. Then He Siyu arrived, and Du Yao fell silent.
Her expression darkened. She didn’t recognize Chen Zhihan—likely some minor socialite from an event.
She called immediately.
"Miss Lin."
"What’s the meaning of this?"
Chen Zhihan smiled. "I heard the He Family cut ties with the Lin Family, ruling out marriage entirely. I thought you might want to know why."
This footage should’ve been erased—it implicated He Siyu in assault. Even the Du Family hadn’t dared leak it.
Lin Shuyan sneered. "I don’t need your help."
"Oh? Then do you know Nan Sangning is two-timing them? In that clip, it wasn’t just Third Young Master He who rushed to her rescue."
Lin Shuyan stiffened, recalling Pei Songhan’s frantic appearance in the video.
"Second Young Master Pei recently broke off his engagement—guess why? Nan Sangning is playing them both. If He Siyu finds out, do you think he’ll let her get away with it?"
Chen Zhihan’s voice dripped with venom.
Nan Sangning now held power in the Nan Family, backed by two influential men. Meanwhile, Chen Zhihan was trapped in a marriage to the worthless Du Yao.
She couldn’t touch Nan Sangning—but Lin Shuyan could.
"Third Young Master He is just blinded by her for now. Expose her, and he’ll come back to you," Chen Zhihan coaxed.
Lin Shuyan’s grip tightened on her phone, eyes glinting with malice.
—
The next morning, Sang Ning’s alarm blared at 8 AM.
She couldn’t move. Her eyelids refused to open, her limbs leaden.
The noise persisted until a hand silenced it.
An arm tightened around her waist, pulling her bare back against a warm chest. "Time to get up?" His low voice brushed her ear.
She buried her face deeper into the pillow, wrestling with consciousness for three minutes before surrendering.
"...No," she mumbled.
She couldn’t possibly.
"Mm."
He nuzzled into her neck, his touch growing restless, his body heating against hers.
Sang Ning’s eyes flew open. She caught his wandering hand, turning to face him. "He Siyu."
His clear gaze met hers. "What’s wrong?"
"..."
Last night, it was with those same clear eyes that he had pressed her down, wild and relentless, taking her again and again.
"If you keep this up, I won’t come next time."
"……"
He obediently moved his hand back to her waist, his voice softening. "Then sleep a little longer?"
She closed her eyes heavily.
Gazing at her peaceful face, his throat tightened. "Yangyang, move in with me."
This back-and-forth hunger and satisfaction was too hard to bear.
He waited two seconds, but she didn’t respond—her breathing had already steadied into sleep.
"If you don’t say anything, I’ll take it as a yes."
He kissed her cheek. "Then it’s settled."
