Blaze's movements showed no sign of stopping. One hand pressed firmly against her hair while his lips trailed over the hollow of her neck, repeatedly tracing the pulse as if he might bite down at any moment.
Cecilia trembled violently, the realization hitting her like a punch—Blaze didn't care about her feelings. Tonight, he would take her, no doubt about it.
The difference in their strength was staggering. No matter how much Cecilia struggled, escape from Blaze's grasp was impossible. Yet in his eyes flickered a cold unfamiliar light. The scene was eerily reminiscent of the past, yet it felt completely alien to her.
Three years ago, on their engagement night, she had given herself to him entirely. Back then, Blaze had been gentle, careful, treating her like a treasure.
And now… was she just a toy for his amusement?
A sharp pain pierced her chest.
"Blaze, let me go! We're not even married! You can't do this!"
He had already yanked her top open, but at the sound of her pleading, he looked up. Cecilia's eyes were red, brimming with tears threatening to overflow. She bit her lip hard, silent, her small face etched with a mixture of grievance and stubbornness.
Blaze froze. He had grown up with Cecilia and had rarely seen her cry—let alone because of him.
Instinctively, he loosened his grip.
"Blaze… please… don't…"
Freed, Cecilia covered her tear-streaked face with her hands, shrinking into the blankets as far away from him as possible. The fragile, silently crying girl was a stark contrast to the sharp-tongued, confident Cecilia he knew. Somehow… Blaze felt his resolve weaken.
He glanced once at the mound of blankets, letting out a faint, almost imperceptible sigh, and then got up.
The room fell silent, so quiet that the only sound was their own breathing. After a long while, Cecilia carefully slipped out from under the covers.
He was gone.
Blaze had somehow left the guest room without her noticing.
That night, neither of them slept.
The next morning, Cecilia had to go to the hospital to handle her father's transfer paperwork. Her heart still raced at the memory of last night. She tiptoed downstairs, trying not to make a sound… and collided with Blaze unexpectedly.
The man sat at the dining table, sharp in his suit, composed and unshakable as ever.
"Come here."
Cecilia knew the words were meant for her, yet she refused to turn around. Her steps faltered, but she kept walking toward the door.
A cold chuckle cut through the tension. "What's the matter? I want to talk to you about investing in Maple Holdings, and you're pretending not to hear?"
Cecilia froze. She touched her nose nervously, then, with a reluctant shuffle, made her way back.
"Sit." Blaze's gaze swept over her briefly, cool and detached, before a servant placed a bowl of green bamboo porridge in front of her. "Eat it."
Cecilia's stomach was sensitive to cold. Back then, Blaze had always meticulously supervised her meals, never allowing her to skip a single one.
Apparently, some habits die hard—three years hadn't changed that.
"We're supposed to talk about Maple Co… but—"
"Eat your porridge. I don't want to say it a third time."
Anxious, Cecilia devoured the porridge in a few hurried spoonfuls, as if fearing he might change his mind. When the bowl was empty, she dared to look up. "Alright… let's talk about the investment."
Blaze turned the black folder in his hands, revealing a contract. He explained a portion of it concisely, leaving the legal details for her to handle. "The rest you'll go over with your legal team. Don't forget to sign."
This contract—just having it—meant that Maple Co.'s crisis could finally be resolved. Months of effort, countless sleepless nights, all leading to this moment.
"You… really are willing to help Maple Co. through this?" Her voice trembled slightly, her hands clutching the edges of the contract.
Blaze noticed the way her fingers shook, the glimmer of hope and relief in her eyes. A faint, almost imperceptible smile curved his lips. Calmly, he pulled out the seal from his pocket and pressed it decisively onto the contract.
"This is my promise to you. Besides… you've already paid your price, haven't you?"
From that day on, Cecilia moved back into the villa she had personally designed and decorated. Though she and Blaze were technically married, they only had a Marriage Certificate without any photos—legally official, yet somehow… not.
Blaze had fulfilled every promise. Maple Co. had survived the crisis, and her father's follow-up treatment was gradually stabilizing.
Blaze didn't seem as busy as before. He returned to the villa every evening for dinner, which meant Cecilia had no choice but to leave work early daily to accompany him. Day after day, they shared the same space—familiar, yet awkward.
As the year drew to a close, the company's minor matters piled up. After finishing the morning meeting, Blaze's assistant was updating him on the day's schedule when the office door suddenly swung open.
"Happy New Year!"
A man with golden-brown dreadlocks barreled in, clutching a party popper, spraying it wildly around the office without a care for the seriously awkward atmosphere.
Blaze glanced at him sideways, unfazed, and continued instructing his assistant. "You two go ahead. Cancel all morning appointments. I need to visit Maple Co."
"Yes, Mr. Diego."
"Wait." Blaze called them back, glancing at Joey Crus with an arched eyebrow. "All employees get double annual leave. Effective after New Year."
"Yes!"
Once the door closed, Joey Crus leaned in, wide-eyed. "Alright, what's gotten into you? Something good happen?"
The man who had just burst in was Blaze's friend, Joey Crus—a headache waiting to happen. Especially with his new hairstyle: tiny twisted dreadlocks that somehow made people inexplicably irritated.
"What kind of madness is this on your head?"
"Reggae dreads are trending. Not bad, right?" Joey was notorious for being a wild card. Serious and unsmiling, he could scare kids into tears; crazy, he was unstoppable. "Oh, and the old man's throwing a New Year party tonight. You coming?"
Blaze, reading the latest futures news, didn't even lift an eyelid. "New Year's still far off. No."
"You're acting weird lately." Joey twisted Blaze's laptop 180 degrees, leaving an Apple logo facing him. "I overheard the managers talking. Boss isn't scolding anyone these days… and now you're giving them extra leave? Something good must have happened, huh?"
Just then, a WhatsApp notification popped up—Cecilia asking if he would be home for dinner. Blaze glanced at it, then "snap!" flipped the phone face-down on the desk.