Fu Shenxing’s smile froze at the corner of his lips. He stood there, silent, eyes locked on her for a moment, before finally letting out a faint chuckle. “Of course, you can use it,” he said, his voice low, his gaze flickering briefly toward Mr. Zhang. He added with a smirk, “Mr. Zhang, her husband’s returning tomorrow—so do be gentle. We wouldn’t want to spark any marital drama.”

He knew. He knew everything. He knew Liang Yuanze would be back the next day. That’s why he chose tonight to humiliate her. He’d crafted this plan with precision, leaving just enough room for her to resist, to struggle—a cruel game, like a cat toying with a half-dead mouse before the final blow.

But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Never.

There was strength in her yet—strength that would only emerge when she was backed into a corner, when all fear and hesitation had been buried deep within her soul, leaving only her will to fight back.

She turned her eyes away from Fu Shenxing, focusing instead on the corpulent man standing before her. Her cheeks flushed faintly, a delicate sign of suppressed hesitation. In a soft voice, she asked, “Mr. Zhang, can we go somewhere more private? I don’t want them watching.” She bit her lip lightly, leaning closer to his ear as she added, “They’re watching, but not paying.”

The man blinked in surprise before bursting into laughter. He scooped her up from the couch with ease, carrying her upstairs. As they ascended, she glanced back over his shoulder toward Fu Shenxing, who was still watching her with that faint, mocking smile, raising a glass in her direction. She responded with a scornful smile of her own.

Hold on, she told herself. No matter what comes, endure it. Wait for that one unguarded moment—and then strike back. Drag him back to hell where he belongs.

The night stretched on, its darkness swallowing the filth and chaos without mercy, casting an indifferent gaze upon the twisted faces and entangled bodies. The revelry continued, wild and unrelenting.

He Yan fled from the room, her breath ragged as she staggered toward the sink. She scrubbed at her lips, trying to rid herself of the lingering taste, but it wouldn’t go away. The stench clung to her, nauseating and relentless. She gagged, but with nothing left in her stomach, the dry heaves came out as sobs.

When she finally lifted her head, she saw Fu Shenxing’s reflection in the mirror.

He leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, watching her with an air of detached amusement. His lips curled into a smile. “What’s this? Used your mouth this time? Unexpected. Turns out you’re a woman of many talents, Miss He.” His eyes traveled over her, lingering on her mostly intact clothing. “Walked away unscathed from a sadist. Impressive.”

Her eyes flickered toward his reflection in the mirror. Slowly, she straightened, wiping away her tears and spittle, then met his gaze with cold indifference. “Fu Shenxing,” she said, her voice quiet but steady, “there’s a saying: even killing someone should be swift and clean.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing with a slight hint of amusement. “Exactly. That’s why I’m not killing you. It would be far too easy.”

Her gaze burned with the fury of a wolf cornered in its den. She stepped toward him, her hand shooting out to grab his tie, pulling herself up to meet his eyes. “Four years ago, you threw yourself in front of my car and pretended to be dead. I stopped to help you. You tried to kill me. That betrayal was yours, not mine. I killed your brother to save myself. I owe you nothing.”

A flicker of surprise passed through his eyes. “You’re reasoning with me?”

“No,” she spat, her smile icy. “Because beasts don’t understand reason.” She rose on tiptoe, closing the distance between them, her breath hot against his ear. As his brow furrowed in confusion, she lunged forward and kissed him.

The move caught him completely off guard. He froze, unable to comprehend what was happening. When he finally tried to pull away, she clung to him, her grip tightening on his tie while her other hand found its place at the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

Her kiss was savage, her tongue demanding and wild as it swept into his mouth.

Flustered, he gripped her shoulders, yanking her back, shoving her away. “Are you insane?”

“Insane?” she purred, her eyes narrowing like a cat’s. She leaned back against the sink, slowly licking her lips, savoring the taste of their kiss. “No,” she whispered mockingly, “If I wanted to seduce someone, I’d pick a dog over you. No, I just wanted you to taste him. How did it taste?”

His face twisted in anger. Realization dawned in his eyes. The next instant, a gun was pressed to her forehead.

“Do you want to die?” he growled.

Her chin lifted, defiant. “Then pull the trigger, Fu Shenxing. If you’ve got the guts, shoot me now.”

He glared at her, fury burning in his chest. His finger moved slowly to release the safety. She braced herself for the shot—but it never came. Instead, the rage in his eyes turned cold, calculating.

“You’re trying to provoke me,” he said, his voice suddenly calm. “You think if I kill you, you’ll be free.”

Her silence spoke volumes, but her flicker of disappointment betrayed her. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to sneer. “Didn’t answer me—how was the taste? If I’d known you were watching, I would’ve saved him a little souvenir.”

A dark smile twisted his lips. Without a word, he grabbed her by the hair and dragged her down the hallway. He kicked open a random door, tossing her inside. A couple, partially undressed, froze mid-act.

“Out!” he barked. “Get the hell out!”

The terrified couple fled.

Fu Shenxing slammed the door shut and turned back to her. The gun pressed to her forehead again.

“Not afraid to die? Let’s see how brave you really are,” he hissed, releasing the safety. “Kneel.”

She stood firm, her gaze never leaving his.

He laughed bitterly. “What? Need me to bring your parents here too?”

Her body stiffened at the mention of her family. She stared at him, lips pressed tight, then slowly sank to her knees.

He smiled cruelly. “Since you dared to provoke me, be ready to suffer the consequences. Come—let’s see what your mouth is really capable of.”

She trembled, but her eyes remained defiant. She refused to cry. Gritting her teeth, she fought to keep her gaze steady.

He tilted her chin up, forcing her mouth open. “Be careful with those little teeth,” he murmured, “or they’ll get you in real trouble.”

Her body shook violently, her lips quivering, but she did not beg.

“You hate me,” he said, his voice low, filled with a dark satisfaction. “Good. Remember, this is just a small punishment. Don’t test me again next time.”

She said nothing, only closed her eyes.

When he finally forced himself into her mouth, a shiver ran down his spine. It was surreal—this proud woman, once untouchable, now on her knees before him. He felt a rush of savage pleasure.

When he finished, he grabbed her cheeks roughly. “Don’t spit. Swallow it. That’s my taste.”

She gagged, sobbing, her eyes burning with hatred. Her fury seemed to fuel him further.

He pushed her head down again. “Clean me.”

She obeyed, her lips trembling, but she didn’t stop.

In that moment, he lost control. Without thinking, he threw aside the gun and pushed her onto the bed. She fought against him, yelling, “Don’t touch me!”

He pinned her down, his grip unyielding. “Afraid your husband will see the bruises?”

She didn’t respond, only cried silently.

The more she resisted, the more violently he ravaged her—leaving marks on her, taking what he wanted.

Later, when she grabbed the gun and pointed it at his chest, she pulled the trigger.

But nothing happened. The safety was on.

Fu Shenxing snatched the gun from her hand, ejected the clip, and glanced down at her—shocked, vulnerable, lost.

Without thinking, he kissed her again. Deeply.

His taste was everywhere—in her mouth, her body, her breath.