This was the scene that greeted Huo Xingzhou on his return: the woman, bent over, her hair twisted into a bun at the nape of her neck. The black business suit she wore only served to accentuate her proportions. Wen Ying was beautiful, her figure impeccable. A true knockout. He wouldn't have kept her by his side for three years otherwise. A memory seemed to surface, and Huo Xingzhou’s eyes darkened. His Adam’s apple bobbed once as he strode toward her. Wen Ying reached down, but her fingers found nothing. The pen must have rolled further under the table. She braced her hands on the table, arching her body, and shifted back slightly, preparing to squat down and get it. But that single step back brought her up against something solid. Wen Ying instinctively turned her head. Her pupils dilated slightly as she saw the man standing behind her. *What was he doing back here?* Huo Xingzhou’s thin lips parted, his voice devoid of any emotion as he uttered the words, “Liang Zhiyi said you weren’t feeling well?” Wen Ying’s mouth opened, but it took a couple of seconds for any sound to emerge. “No… it’s nothing. Thank you for your concern, Mr. Huo.” Huo Xingzhou took a step forward, closing the distance until their bodies were pressed flush against each other. Only then did Wen Ying realize how suggestive their position was… She quickly tried to straighten up, turning to face him directly, her tone strictly professional. “I'll have all the translated materials from the meeting compiled and sent to Ms. Liang by three o'clock this afternoon.” Huo Xingzhou raised a hand, gripping her chin. He asked, his words slow and deliberate, “Did I hurt you last night?” …! Wen Ying’s mind went blank. He’d said things like this before, of course, but this was a conference room—practically sacred ground—and his fiancée was just one floor up. Besides, Wen Ying had never wanted—and certainly didn’t want now—any part of his personal life. Wen Ying turned her head, trying to evade his touch. “Mr. Huo, Ms. Liang is waiting for you in her office.” But Huo Xingzhou wasn't about to let her go. A sharp edge of impatience entered his cool voice. “I asked you a question. Where does it hurt?” Heat flooded Wen Ying’s ears, and a blush crept up her face. How could she possibly say *where*? Huo Xingzhou already had his answer. His gaze traveled down from her face, slowly. His eyes were so piercing that Wen Ying instantly felt stripped bare. She had no choice but to force the words out, steeling herself. “Mr. Huo…” Just then, Liang Zhiyi’s voice came from outside the door. “Xingzhou, are you in there?” Wen Ying froze, her breath catching in her throat as she shot him a terrified look. Huo Xingzhou regarded her coolly, utterly unfazed by the prospect of his fiancée walking in on them. A tremor ran through Wen Ying’s body. Her eyes pleaded with him silently. A man like Huo Xingzhou keeping a mistress was hardly a scandal; the world of the elite was an ocean of secrets, after all. But she couldn't afford it. If Liang Zhiyi found out, her career, her entire life, would be destroyed. It was the first time Huo Xingzhou had ever seen such an expression on her face. Every time before, she had been fawning, eager to please, compliant. Her body, too, had always left him more than satisfied. Before Liang Zhiyi could enter, Huo Xingzhou pulled her into an adjacent storeroom. It was a small, somewhat cluttered space used to store projector equipment. Liang Zhiyi opened the conference room door to find it empty. “Huh,” she murmured. “Where is everyone? They told me the meeting was over.” Wen Ying pressed herself against the storeroom door, listening, not daring to breathe. Suddenly, a coolness spread across her back… Liang Zhiyi seemed to hear something. She looked toward the storeroom, her expression growing more puzzled. Wen Ying’s heart leaped into her throat. Her entire body tensed, coiled tight with fear. Huo Xingzhou seemed pleased by this. He turned her around, pulling her away from the door. He pressed her against a cold piece of equipment. A shiver wracked her body, and she instinctively shrank into his arms for warmth. Huo Xingzhou leaned in, his teeth grazing her ear. “Is this how I’ve ‘taken care of you’ all these years?” He deliberately stressed the words “taken care of you.” Wen Ying’s fingers clenched into fists. She couldn't believe he was using her own words—from her formal breakup text—to humiliate her now, in a moment like this. His breath ghosted against her ear as he continued, his pace unhurried. “I'll give you one chance. Take back what you said last night.” Wen Ying’s voice trembled. “Mr. Huo, you… you’re breaking our agreement.” It wasn't as if she had much pride or a moral high ground to stand on, but her one rule had always been not to hurt anyone else. Now he was engaged. She refused to be the other woman, the homewrecker everyone would despise. The man’s lips curled into a cold smirk. He ripped open her blouse, his voice even more devoid of emotion than before. He said, “Fine. Then let’s show this man you’re so fond of what kind of woman you really are.” At his words, Wen Ying squeezed her eyes shut in anguish. A second later, the jarring ring of a cell phone erupted from her jacket pocket, shattering the charged atmosphere in the storeroom. Wen Ying’s eyes flew open, and her fingers dug into Huo Xingzhou’s arm. In the conference room, Liang Zhiyi, phone in hand, looked toward the hidden door again and slowly walked over. “Ms. Wen, are you in there?” Hearing her own name called, Wen Ying felt tears welling up, threatening to spill over. She struggled, desperate to escape, but the man’s powerful embrace was a cage, leaving her nowhere to hide. As Liang Zhiyi’s footsteps reached the door, Wen Ying’s nerves stretched to their breaking point. She bit down hard on her lip, every cell in her body screaming in protest. Outside, Liang Zhiyi’s hand closed around the doorknob. Just then, Chen Yue’s voice sounded from behind her. “Ms. Liang.” Liang Zhiyi turned, her smile warm. “Oh, it’s you. Where’s Xingzhou?” “Mr. Huo had an urgent matter to attend to. He’s already left.” Liang Zhiyi was clearly disappointed. “Oh. Alright.” Chen Yue added, “Let me escort you out, Ms. Liang.” “That’s alright. I was just about to take Ms. Wen to the hospital. I thought I heard her phone ringing in here…” “Mr. Huo already arranged for someone to take Ms. Wen to the hospital. She must have left her phone behind. We’ll have it sent to her.” Liang Zhiyi’s smile didn’t waver. “Thank you, then.” Chen Yue gave a slight nod. “This way, Ms. Liang.” Once they had left the conference room, the sound that had been trapped in Wen Ying’s throat finally broke free in a choked sob. Huo Xingzhou’s grip on her waist was heavy, his expression dark and brooding.