The dining hall stretched wide before them, like a stage built for an imperial feast. Red lacquered pillars rose to the ceiling, where golden dragons curled and glared. Their painted eyes seemed to follow Emily with every step. At the head of the long mahogany table sat Madame Zhou. Her silk qipao was the color of dried blood, and her stillness carried the patience of a spider waiting in its web.
"Please, sit," she said, her hand motioning to chairs arranged with military precision. "We have much to discuss about your father's debt, Mr. Drake."
Alexander placed a hand at the small of Emily's back. The gesture looked casual, yet she felt its warning in every nerve. "Emily sits beside me," he said. His voice held that steel-edged tone she had learned meant danger.
"Of course." Madame Zhou's smile was thin, sharp. "Young love is so… protective."
The servants glided like shadows, setting down dish after dish. Delicacies Emily did not recognize filled porcelain plates so fine they looked almost transparent. Alexander hardly touched his food. His eyes never stopped tracking—servants, doors, windows.
"Your father was quite charming," Madame Zhou said, raising her glass of wine. "He promised me much. A partnership across generations. Instead, he left me with… complications."
"My father's sins are not mine to carry," Alexander replied. Emily heard the lie in his tone. He had been carrying those sins all his life.
"Ah, but family debts are like bloodstains. They sink deeper than we expect." Madame Zhou's gaze slid to Emily, sudden and piercing. "What do you think, Miss Chen? Should the sins of the father fall upon the son?"
The weight of her stare made Emily's skin crawl. "I think people should be judged by their own actions, not their bloodline."
"How refreshingly American." Madame Zhou laughed, the sound brittle, like glass cracking. "But here, we know some debts outlast death itself."
A servant appeared at Emily's side, setting down a delicate porcelain cup filled with pale green tea. Candlelight shimmered across the liquid, carrying with it a faint floral scent.
"This is my personal blend," Madame Zhou said. "A rare leaf grown only in the Fujian mountains. I serve it only to my most… honored guests."
Alexander's fork froze halfway to his lips. His eyes locked on Emily's cup, sharp and unblinking.
"How generous," Emily said, lifting it. The porcelain felt hot against her palms, almost fevered.
"Emily." Alexander's voice cut through the air, blade-like. "Don't."
Too late. She had already taken a sip. The taste struck her at once—sweet and bitter, floral yet strange, coating her tongue with something she could not name.
"Delicious," Emily managed, setting the cup back down. Madame Zhou's smile deepened.
"I am pleased you enjoy it. The recipe is centuries old, passed down through my family. Very… special ingredients."
Alexander's hand clamped on her thigh under the table, his fingers biting down, his fury barely leashed. Heat radiated from him like fire.
"Now," Madame Zhou continued, "let us speak of terms. Your father borrowed fifty million dollars. With twenty years of compounded interest, the debt now reaches two hundred million."
"Interesting math," Alexander said between clenched teeth. His gaze kept flicking to Emily, and sweat glistened on his forehead despite the cool air.
"The math of compound interest is simple. As is the solution—you may pay in full, or…" She gestured lightly with her chopsticks. "We arrange compensation by other means."
Emily tried to follow her words, but her focus slipped. The edges of the room wavered. The painted dragons above seemed to writhe through their clouds. Her pulse raced. Her hands turned clammy.
"What kind of alternative?" Her own voice reached her ears strangely, as if spoken underwater.
"Your boyfriend holds many assets. Businesses, estates, connections. Even people can serve as collateral, if they are… valuable enough."
The meaning hit Emily hard, but her thoughts scattered like sand. Heat rose through her body. She grabbed for her water, but her hand trembled.
Alexander noticed instantly. His mask of control cracked. Panic flared in his eyes.
"What did you give her?" His voice was low, deadly. A tone that would have made grown men flee.
"Nothing harmful," Madame Zhou said calmly. "Just something to encourage honesty. A truth serum, if you like. A family recipe—mild, safe. The effects fade within hours."
Emily's vision blurred. She clung to the table edge. "Alexander?" The name came out slurred. Weak.
He shot up from his chair, the scrape of wood loud against the marble. "You poisoned her."
"Such harsh language. I merely ensured honesty during our talk." Madame Zhou sipped her tea, unbothered. "She has become central to this negotiation, has she not? Your weakness, Mr. Drake. Your pressure point."
"You broke hospitality," Alexander growled. Emily had never heard his voice so lethal. "By ancient law, guests under your roof are safe, not drugged."
"Ancient law." Madame Zhou tilted her head. "How quaint. This is business, not myth."
The room tilted again. Emily felt his arms catch her, lifting her from the chair. His cologne reached her through the haze. His heart pounded fast against her cheek.
"We're leaving," he said.
"I think not." Madame Zhou's voice turned cold. "Sit down. Our talk is unfinished."
Alexander ignored her. He held Emily close, striding for the door. But two massive men in black suits stepped into their path.
"Hospitality cuts both ways," Madame Zhou said. "You cannot leave until our matter is settled. And with Miss Chen so… cooperative, I have many questions for her."
Through the fog, a chill spread in Emily's chest. Whatever she had drunk was loosening her tongue. And Alexander, with that murderous look in his eyes, was caught. He could not fight without risking her life.
The guards closed in. Emily realized the trap was complete. Madame Zhou had arranged everything. Alexander was pinned between his duty to protect her and the danger of striking out.
"Now then." Madame Zhou rose with unhurried grace. "Let us begin, Miss Chen. Tell me what you truly know about Mr. Drake's business… and how much you are worth to him."
Emily's lips parted. Words pressed forward, slipping past her will. Alexander's arms tightened, his jaw locked in fury.
They were cornered. And the real interrogation was only beginning.