Hua Jing found Hua Ling's words deeply strange. The tone, the choice of words—it was as if there was someone else standing in the shadows behind Hua Ling, someone far more dangerous, someone whose will Hua Ling herself might be obeying. The thought left a faint chill at the back of Hua Jing's neck.
But at this moment, she knew there was no way Hua Ling would reveal anything. She was enjoying the game far too much, relishing every second of Hua Jing's uncertainty. Hua Ling's lips had curled into that taunting little smile that never quite reached her eyes, the one she always wore when she thought she was in control.
Just then, the door to the private lounge creaked open. A waiter stepped in, balancing a small tray with two tall glasses on it. The soft clinking of the ice cubes inside the glasses was the only sound that dared to interrupt the tense silence between the two women.
Hua Jing had not ordered any drink.
