Chapter 5
"Lu Yao, my beautiful lady, don't forget our agreement. You promised you'd start taking care of me tonight!"
Almost quitting time that afternoon, Lu Yao received Redhead's WeChat message. She had been chatting casually with colleagues, but the instant she read the words, the smile on her face vanished. Shooting a quick glance at her coworkers, she quietly typed back a short "I know," then locked her phone and stood to leave the office.
"Hi Mom, could you pick up Binbin for me tonight? I've got something important, so I'll be late," she said quickly into her phone as she walked. This was part of the plan she had already thought through when she agreed to Redhead's demand. For the foreseeable future, her mother would pick up and care for her son. Last night, since her husband had been home, she hadn't been able to mention it. Rushing off this morning, she forgot again. Only when Redhead texted did she remember, hurrying to call her mother with the cover story.
After a few hurried explanations, she hung up, returned to her desk, and waited the final hour of work. When she confirmed her mother had collected her son, she headed off alone to the hospital.
"Well, Lu the Beauty I thought you weren't coming!" Redhead shouted out as soon as she entered. His smirk was broad, vulgar, smug. Lu Yao's heart twisted with loathing. Just seeing him made her nauseous. "If it were up to me, I wouldn't have. But if I didn't come, you'd cause another scene," she replied coldly.
"Heihei… At least you remember. We had an agreement if you don't show, I won't let you off." He leaned lazily against his bed, cigarette dangling from his lips, eyes roving over her pale face. "By the way, Princess Lu, I haven't eaten dinner yet. Go fetch some food for me."
"You only injured your hand, not your legs. Can't you get your own food? Or order delivery?" she snapped, glaring. His arrogance stoked the fire in her chest.
"Hey hey, Lu the Beauty what do you think you came here for? To look pretty and do nothing? You're here to take care of me!" He deliberately shifted his posture, crossing and swinging his leg idly, the very picture of a smug, untouchable rogue.
"…What do you want to eat?" Her teeth clenched so tight they hurt. She wanted nothing more than to storm away, but the agreement bound her. Sucking down her anger, she asked.
"I want to eat…" He rubbed his chin, eyes glued to her chest, gears turning in his dirty mind. Then his eyes lit up. "How about this go to that chicken restaurant across the street. Have them stew a whole chicken for me. Bet you haven't had dinner yet either. Bring it back, and we'll eat together."
"You're disgusting!" She knew exactly what he had insinuated. Clenching her jaw, she spat her disgust, stomped her heel hard on the floor, and turned, slamming the door open. Still, she crossed to the chicken restaurant, ordered a pot, and sat alone at a corner table to eat some plain food herself.
There was no way she'd sit across from him at the hospital and watch him eat. Just the thought turned her stomach. Better to catch her breath alone than lose her composure in that room.
Half an hour later, she returned with the takeout chicken and set it reluctantly on his bedside table. "Anything else? If not, I'm leaving."
"What, leaving so soon? Did you forget? Our agreement says you stay until I fall asleep." His eyes gleamed. "Come here and help me sit up." He waved at her with his free left hand like she was his personal servant.
"You can't sit yourself up?" she hissed, brows furrowed. Every minute near him made her chest feel tighter. The arrogance in his posture gnawed at her more than knives could. She wanted to strike him down, like her husband had done.
"Come on. Remember, it was your husband who broke me." He stretched out his left hand toward her, deliberately pathetic. "This hand's all I can use. How am I supposed to eat? Who knows what else I might need help with…" His gaze flicked shamelessly toward his crotch.
Lu Yao's cheeks burned red with outrage. Her whole body trembled with shame, fire roaring in her chest. She wanted to dump the steaming chicken onto his lap.
"Come help me, Beauty," he said, grinning, hand still outstretched. Finally, with a deep breath, she ground her teeth, clamped his wrist, and yanked him upright.
But immediately, he seized her soft hand in his grasp, fingers squeezing. She recoiled in shock, throat tightening. But just as her fury boiled over, he released her again, laughing. "Oh, since my right arm doesn't work, could you open the container for me?"
The brief violation left her shaking. She pulled her hand back, eyes blazing, staring daggers at him. But still, she opened the lunch box, jaw quivering as her shame deepened.
She had known this might happen. From the moment she had agreed, she prepared herself in some small way. She had told herself: he would try to take advantage. And still, even steeled for it, the actual grasp of his fingers made her skin crawl, made her feel filthier than ever.
All her life, she had dealt with educated, courteous men from school, from work, from her polite circle of refined colleagues. Even the few who harbored thoughts of her would retreat the moment she furrowed her brows. Never in her life had she faced such a brazen harasser.
If not for this cursed agreement? She would have walked away and never looked back.
Now, she was bound forced to suffer this humiliation. It was a cruel, deliberate torment, knowing she still must serve him.
Taking his first bite of chicken with his left hand, oil slicking his lips, he chewed foolishly, juices spilling down his chin. Wiping only with the back of his arm, he smacked his lips. "Too salty. Get me some water, Beauty."
Her stomach churned with revulsion at his greasy grin, his slobbering lips. She pulled tissues from her purse, picked up his empty cup with them, and stalked out. Her high heels clacked angrily with every step.
In the ward, Redhead burst into a low chuckle, eyes hooked on her swaying hips. In his mind, he pictured her on her knees serving him. His cock twitched instantly beneath his gown, surging stiff and straight against the fabric.
At the sink, Lu Yao filled the cup, scrubbing her own hand desperately under the running tap as memories of him squeezing her flashed in her mind. Her face burned with humiliation and fury.
"Rotten thug, I'd rather choke you than help you," she seethed quietly. She waited deliberately long before taking the cup back. Her hand slammed it onto his nightstand.
"You doing this on purpose?" he barked, snatching it up, gulping all in three swallows. Wiping his lips crudely, he smirked. "Well? One more."
She stared at him, her loathing spilling through every line of her face how she wished to throw the water in his smug grin. Instead, she sighed hotly through her nose, turned again, fetched another.
Task after task, his orders never ceased this, then that. Only when he finished gorging himself and leaned smugly against the bed did he pull out a cigarette. "Burp ahhh… a smoke after dinner, best feeling in the world."
"Pig," she muttered through clenched teeth, shaking her head. He had devoured the entire pot of chicken alone. She sat on a separate bed, quietly waiting him out. Just as she braced to stand and leave, he said it
"Lu the Beauty come help me to the bathroom."