Present
Andre's smirk widened as he looked at Yichen now, watching every flicker of emotion cross the older man's face.
"Hm," Andre murmured, voice sharp with mockery. "Your expression says it all. You're shocked I know. You're shocked I even dared to look."
Yichen swallowed hard, his voice low. "You shouldn't have seen that."
"Oh, but I did." Andre leaned closer again, his words venomous. "And now I know exactly who you are. Tell me, Mr. Zhen—does my mom know? Does she know the man she married has never once desired her?"
Yichen's face paled. His lips parted, but no words came out.
Andre's laugh was bitter, hollow. "I thought so. So what now? Will you lie again? Or will you admit it—that you've been playing with her life, with mine, just to protect yourself?"
The silence between them was suffocating.
Andre's voice dropped, icy and final. "You make me sick."
Yichen sat there, rigid, every nerve in his body on fire. The words cut deeper than he expected, deeper than he thought they could. He wanted to explain, to say it wasn't as simple as Andre thought, but his throat closed. Because deep down, Andre wasn't wrong.
And for the first time in years, Zhen Yichen felt fear—fear not of his grandfather, not of the empire he was holding together with blood and steel, but of this boy, standing before him, eyes sharp enough to strip away every hidden side.
The silence between them thickened like smoke, suffocating and heavy.
Andre's silver eyes glimmered with a cruel amusement, the kind only someone deeply wounded could wield. He tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into that mocking smile that Yichen had begun to dread.
"Do you know what shocked me the most?" Andre's voice cut the stillness, sharp as glass.
Yichen didn't move. His throat was dry, words trapped somewhere between his chest and lips. "…."
Andre leaned closer, his tone casual but venomous, "It wasn't the folder. It wasn't even your lies. No, it was the video I saw."
For the first time in a long while, Yichen's heartbeat stumbled. Panic swelled, striking him cold. His calm exterior cracked ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing as though to hide the tremor in his gaze. No… it can't be… he didn't see that…
Andre smiled wider, sensing the shift. "Isn't it funny? The fact that you had a video of yourself… indulging in that act with another man. Someone smaller than you. Someone who looked far too fragile for what you were doing to him."
Yichen's blood ran cold. His heart thudded painfully in his ears. His lips parted, but nothing came out.
Andre leaned back, folding his arms with mock serenity. "At the time, I didn't really understand the expression on your face. But now…" His eyes sharpened, piercing through Yichen like a blade. "…now I do."
Yichen's chest tightened. His pulse skipped. "…."
"It was pleasure." Andre's laugh broke the tension like a cruel bell ringing in the dark. He dragged out the word, savoring the color that drained from Yichen's face. "You were drowning in it. You—" he chuckled lowly, shaking his head— "you almost broke that man apart. He was crying for mercy, begging you to stop. But you didn't. You looked like a beast, Zhen Yichen. A beast reveling in control, ready to decide the fate of another person."
Yichen's breath caught. His usually stoic face went pale, rigid, stripped bare in horror.
"Stop it." His voice was low, desperate.
But Andre's eyes glittered with triumph. "You enjoyed it, didn't you? That ruthless side of you… that heartless, cold creature. You were nothing like the calm, respectable man you parade yourself to be. You were cruel. You were merciless. You were…" Andre's smile sharpened into a knife. "…a devil."
"STOP IT!" Yichen's voice cracked, rebuke torn from deep in his chest.
Andre only laughed, sharp and taunting. The sound filled the room like fire, sparking in every corner. He had succeeded—he had pierced through the untouchable armor of Zhen Yichen.
It was intoxicating.
Yichen's hands clenched against his knees, but he forced himself to breathe. Slowly, painfully, he regained composure. He sat straighter, his voice cooling again, though his eyes still betrayed unrest. "So what if you found it? It's my life. My past. It has nothing to do with you."
The laughter died from Andre's lips. His expression shifted, hardening into something colder, sharper. "So what?" His voice dropped, filled with venom. "Zhen Yichen, you have my mother. Don't you dare say it means nothing."
The words struck like a whip. Yichen looked up at him, caught off guard by the sheer fury in Andre's tone.
Andre stood tall, his shadow cast over Yichen where he sat. His silver eyes gleamed with unshakable resolve, and for the first time, Yichen felt the full force of the young man's presence pressing down on him.
"I won't let you hurt my mom. Never."
"I never wanted to hurt her," Yichen answered quietly, almost pleading.
Andre scoffed, the sound sharp and cruel. "You think I'll believe that? No. You want something. That's the only reason you're here. The only reason you're with her. Tell me, Zhen Yichen… what is it you want from me?"
Yichen froze. "What?"
Andre leaned closer, his words biting. "Do you want my body, like that man in your video? Or is it my heart?"
The shock rippled through Yichen's face, rare and raw. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, come on." Andre's lips twisted into a mocking smirk. "Don't pretend you don't understand. You parade around with your calm, perfect image, but behind closed doors you're a monster who can't control himself. So what is it, Yichen? My body? My heart? Which one do you want?"
Yichen shook his head, disbelief shattering through his carefully constructed mask. "No. That's not what I— You're twisting everything."
But Andre only leaned closer, so close Yichen could feel the sharpness of his breath against his skin. "What I'm saying," he whispered coldly, "is that I can give you what you want—to some extent. But in return, you free my mom. Leave her. She deserves better than this farce of a marriage. She deserves to be happy without you dragging her down."
The words fell like stones into the silence.
Yichen's lips parted, but no sound came. He stared up at the boy towering over him, his mind reeling, his heart torn apart by the venom and the pain lacing every word. He wanted to speak, to deny, to defend himself—but all he could do was sit in the wreckage of his carefully hidden life, staring at the one person who had managed to uncover it all.