FRANCESCA POV
"Do you know how much this costs?" he lashed out, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.
His English startled me…smooth, fluent, with that kind of confident accent you only hear from people who've lived in America long enough to think they own the world.
I blinked, speechless for a moment. The entire crowd was watching us, phones raised, some whispering in Chinese.
I swallowed my words, wanting to apologize, but my ego… my stupid pride wouldn't let me.
"If this was in California," I snapped, "you'd have been sued for disrespecting a lady!"
His eyes glistened, almost amused, mocking me. "Well," he said coolly, "this isn't California. And you call yourself a lady?"
That tone. That smirk. My blood boiled.
"Wow… arrogant much?" I crossed my arms, trying not to let him see my shaking hands. "You know what? Forget it. You win, okay? It's pointless arguing with an asshole like you."
I turned away, planning to leave him there with his sticky shirt and his shiny shoes, but suddenly…
He yanked me back.
Not gently. Not playfully. His grip was hard, sharp enough to sting. Seriously, what is with these people and yanking a lady?.
I gasped. "What is your problem?!"
"You think you can just walk away after ruining my shirt?" His eyes narrowed, dark with irritation. "Do you even realize how much this costs? I have an appointment to get to."
I looked down at his hand still clutching my arm. The contact sent an unexpected wave through me… not the romantic kind, more like electricity that jolts you when fear and anger mix.
Behind him, the older man in the suit… the same one who had yanked me earlier… just stood there, silent, his face pale like he didn't dare interfere.
I yanked my arm free. "Well, that sounds like a you problem."
He chuckled, low and humorless. "Oh, it's a we problem."
Before I could even process that, his hand was back on me, stronger this time.
"Hey! Let go of me!"
But he didn't. He started dragging me toward the car… the glossy, black luxury car that probably cost more than our apartment back in California. The middle aged man hurried behind, looking both terrified and obedient.
"Kidnapper!" I screamed. "He's kidnapping me! Somebody help!"
But the crowd… the same one who had been so eager to record us a moment ago… I only stared. They whispered, filmed, but no one moved.
"Mr Han, get the door," the guy said sharply.
The middle aged man, known as… Mr Han… rushed ahead and pulled the car door open.
"Stop!" I shouted, struggling, but his grip was unrelenting. "Please, let me go!"
He shoved me into the passenger seat. My heart was hammering. The inside of the car looked like a hotel room…plush leather seats, tinted windows, the faint scent of expensive cologne.
He climbed in beside me, slammed the door, and hit the lock.
"It's too late to apologize now," he said, calm, almost too calm.
"I'm not apologizing!" I snapped. "You think I'm just gonna bow because you're rich? You started this stupid game!"
He turned to me, his expression unreadable, almost bored. "You talk too much."
"Excuse me?"
He leaned back, eyes fixed straight ahead. "Mr Han, drive."
The engine purred to life.
"Where are you taking me?" I demanded. "Hey! I asked you a question!"
No reply.
I glanced out the window, not that I could see anything… because it was tinted… which makes me more scared. I turned back to him.
"Answer me!" I said again, my voice trembling despite myself. "If you think I'm just gonna sit here quietly, you're…"
"Quiet," he said sharply. "Or I'll make you."
I froze. The tone wasn't loud, but it was the kind that made your stomach twist.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" I whispered.
He finally looked at me. "Someone who doesn't like being humiliated in public," he said flatly.
"Humiliated?" I scoffed. "You insulted me first! You.. "
"You threw a drink at me."
"Because you deserved it!"
He tilted his head slightly, as if he was actually considering it. "Maybe. But I don't let things go unpaid."
"Unpaid?" I echoed. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"You'll see."
The rest of the ride was silent, except for my heartbeat and the city humming outside.
After a few minutes, the car slowed down. I looked out and blinked.
We had stopped in front of a gigantic mall… not just any mall, but one that looked like it was built for royalty. Glass walls, golden lights, bodyguards in suits.
He stepped out first, his posture straight, every movement controlled. Mr Han opened my door, and before I could even argue, the guy gave me a look that said Don't try anything.
I stepped out, hesitantly. The air smelled of perfume and money.
"Where are we?" I asked quietly.
He didn't answer me. Instead, he spoke to the guards in Chinese. "少爷来了,注意接待.(The young master is here, make sure he's received properly.)"
They bowed immediately. "好的,少爷.(Yes, young master.)"
I frowned.Because I don't know if they were planning to kidnap me or something.
Inside, everything gleamed. The floor reflected our steps, and people turned to look as we walked by… some gasping, some whispering.
"Who are you?" I asked again.
He didn't look at me. "Someone you shouldn't have messed with."
We stopped in front of a designer boutique …the kind that had guards at the door and no prices on display. The staff recognized him instantly and began bowing, speaking rapid Chinese.
"秦少爷,欢迎光临!(Young Master Qin, welcome!)" one of them said, smiling nervously.
He nodded slightly. "把最新款的衬衫拿来.(Bring me the newest shirt collection.)"
Within seconds, they brought out several shirts neatly folded in boxes, each one looking like it belonged in a museum, not a wardrobe.
He pointed at one… a pure white designer shirt, crisp and flawless. "This one."
The manager hurried over. "好的,秦少爷.(Yes, Young Master Qin.)"
Then he turned to me. "Pay for it."
"What?"
He looked at me like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You ruined mine. You'll pay for this one."
I laughed nervously. "You're joking, right? I don't even know how much that costs."
"How much is it?"
The cashier came forward, smiling politely. She spoke to him in Chinese again. "先生,这件衣服三万六千人民币.(Sir, this shirt costs thirty-six thousand yuan.)"
He looked at me, then back at the cashier. "She doesn't understand Chinese…"
"Oh, sorry ma'am " she said, with a nervous smile. "It costs thirty six yuan"
He nodded., "You heard her."
I blinked. "Thirty-six what now?"
"Thirty-six thousand yuan," he repeated. "About five thousand U.S. dollars."
My mouth fell open. "Five what?!"
The staff exchanged glances. Mr Han shifted uncomfortably.
I turned to the cashier, forcing a laugh. "You must be kidding. It's just a shirt!"
She smiled apologetically. "This is the latest Louis Delmont limited edition, miss."
My knees almost gave out.
Qin Kai crossed his arms. "So? Still want to play the 'lady' from California?"
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
He smirked slightly, then spoke to the staff again. "用她的卡结账.(Charge it to her card.)"
The cashier blinked. "可是她—(But she—)"
"Do it," he said coldly.
"Do what?" I blurted out. "Are you insane?"
He finally looked at me fully… eyes dark, voice low. "You threw a drink at me. You embarrassed me in public. You'll learn that actions have prices."
I swallowed hard. "What if I don't pay?"
He leaned closer, so close I could smell his cologne… icy, expensive, suffocating. "Oh, you will…. If I'll have to make you.."
My stomach dropped.
Everyone around us had gone silent. Even the staff were watching, holding their breath.
I looked at the price tag again, my hands trembling. Five thousand dollars. That was more than my mom's rent back home. More than we had in our bank account for just a shirt.
My voice cracked. "You can't be serious…"
"Oh, I'm very serious." His words came
slowly, deliberately. "Now pay."
Now, this is messier than I imagined it to be… and looking at this spoilt brat in front of me… I'm kinda having the feeling that he wouldn't let me go…