Bai Chenxi's accusation hit like a stone hurled into dark water — and the ripples were instant, violent.
Li Sijue's face hardened, every trace of composure stripped away.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop; the weight of his silence pressed down until even the hum of the air-conditioner felt deafening.
Gu Chenyì frowned, taking a step forward. "President Li —"
Li Sijue's head turned toward him, eyes glinting like cold steel.
"Mr. Gu," he said evenly, though the threat beneath his words was unmistakable, "this is between her and me. Please leave."
It wasn't a request. It was a command, issued in the voice of a man used to obedience.
But Gu Chenyì didn't flinch. His tone stayed calm, his gaze steady.
"Miss Bai is an independent woman, not someone's possession. You don't have the right to control who she speaks to."
Li Sijue gave a short, humorless laugh. "Rights?" he echoed, his eyes narrowing. He swept a glance around — at the apartment he had arranged, the subtle security devices embedded in the walls, the food box still open on the table — then back to her.
"She's living in the property I pay for. Her child's safety is under my protection. Tell me, Mr. Gu — do you think that gives me enough rights?"
His words struck their target with ruthless precision.
Bai Chenxi froze, her breath catching in her throat. Every syllable was a reminder — of dependence she hated, of debts she'd never asked for.
For a heartbeat, neither spoke. Then fury flared in her chest, scorching through the helplessness.
"Li Sijue, you bastard!"
Her voice trembled, but the fire in it was unmistakable.
Something flickered in his eyes — a flash of guilt, maybe even pain — but it vanished as quickly as it came.
He couldn't afford to waver. Zhao Qian and the old Starshine faction were still watching, waiting. Gu Chenyì's intentions remained uncertain. To Li Sijue, protecting her meant control — even if she hated him for it.
"Ah Mo," he said sharply, not taking his eyes off Bai Chenxi, "see Mr. Gu out."
Ah Mo stepped forward without a word, his posture polite yet unyielding.
Gu Chenyì hesitated only a moment. Then he looked at Bai Chenxi — really looked — and gave her a faint, reassuring nod.
A silent message: Stay strong.
Without another word, he turned and left.
The door closed softly behind him. The sound was final, like a judge's gavel.
Li Sijue moved first.
In two strides he was before her, his hand closing around her wrist. His grip was hard enough to make her wince.
"Let go of me!"
"Bai Chenxi."
Her name came out low, rough, almost a growl. His eyes were dark storms, filled with emotions she couldn't read — anger, fear, and something far more dangerous lurking underneath.
"You have no idea what you're dealing with."
"Then tell me!" she snapped. "Tell me why you're hiding everything, why you keep me under lock and key like a prisoner!"
He said nothing.
Instead, he tightened his hold and started pulling her toward the hallway.
"Li Sijue, what are you doing!?" she cried, struggling against him, but his strength was relentless.
"In the meantime," he said through clenched teeth, his voice a low thunder, "you're staying where it's safe. Until this is over — you don't go anywhere. You don't see him. You don't take a single step without my knowledge."
He stopped at the threshold of the bedroom, finally releasing her wrist.
Bai Chenxi staggered back, rubbing the red mark on her skin, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"Safe?" she spat. "You think this is safety? You're the storm, Li Sijue — not the shelter!"
The words hit him squarely in the chest.
For the first time, his composure cracked.
He took a slow breath, fighting the impulse to shout, to grab her again, to make her understand that every barrier he built around her was to protect her from something far worse than himself.
But she was already shaking — with anger, with hurt, with a pain he didn't know how to heal.
"Get out," she whispered.
He didn't move.
"Get. Out!"
Her voice broke, but her eyes never wavered.
Li Sijue looked at her one last time — the woman who was supposed to be just another part of his plan — and realized with a jolt that the plan was already ruined.
He turned and left without another word.
The door slammed shut.
In the echo that followed, Bai Chenxi sank slowly to the floor, pressing her palm to her wrist where his fingers had been.
The pain there was nothing compared to the ache inside.
She had lived through betrayal, humiliation, even death. But this — this strange, twisting half-love, half-war with Li Sijue — felt like the most dangerous thing of all.
Outside, thunder rolled in the distance.
A storm was coming — and she was trapped at its center.