How rude.
So that was it? He wasn't going to buy anything? After all that effort? Damn it—this night had gone downhill faster than she could blink.
The two tall men who had been standing quietly in the background finally stepped forward. Their solid builds, hard expressions, and cold eyes told Song Yue everything she needed to know—they were bodyguards.
"You're talking nonsense!" one barked. "The duke told you to get lost. So get lost."
Song Yue stared at them, completely clueless as to how she had angered the purple-eyed man. He seemed to be the center of gravity in the room—the one everyone looked to before breathing. Messing with him was clearly a bad idea.
But Song Yue, being Song Yue, didn't pick up the warning signs.
"You… don't like the European or American sizes?" she asked, blinking innocently. "Then what size do you want? I have Asian average, medium size…"
Her gaze drifted down his long legs. He was slim—but he was tall.
She hesitated. Then blurted the fatal words:
"Do you… want a small size?"
The silence was instant and brutal. Even the air felt like it froze. Heat drained from the room, replaced by the kind of cold that made your spine lock up.
Song Yue blinked again.
Had she said something wrong?
Did he… really have a small—
"Well," she offered helpfully, "you can tell me your size. If it's too small, I can ask my boss if they carry a special—"
"PFTT—!"
Sikong Jue burst out laughing, slamming his hand on the table. "Duke Li Meiran, you got roasted by a little girl!"
Li Meiran's eyes opened fully this time. The deep purple was shockingly beautiful—but now they burned with icy danger. The lazy charm vanished, replaced by something sharp and predatory.
He looked at Song Yue like she was a puzzle he could play with.
Or ruin.
His voice was quiet, too quiet. "If you agree to service me, I'll buy whatever you want me to buy."
Song Yue understood instantly.
He wanted her.
In that way.
Her eyes widened. Oh hell no.
Besides, wasn't he in a relationship with Sikong Jue? They had sat close. They had chemistry. They had that weird tension…
"Um…" she said carefully, "I don't think I'm suitable for that. Why don't you let Sikong Jue do it instead?"
Sikong Jue choked on his wine. He shot Li Meiran a murderous glare—like he was ready to swing a chair at the man. Jealousy? Rage? Pure stupidity? Somehow, he wasn't afraid of Li Meiran at all.
But Song Yue completely misunderstood.
Her eyes softened. Sympathy.
"Oh… I get it now," she whispered. "You're his… boyfriend? Or a… you know… worker?"
Sikong Jue froze. Then his expression darkened so fast it could've summoned a thunderstorm.
Li Meiran's eyelid twitched. Why was this girl so convinced they were sleeping together? How could she tell? And why did it bother him so damn much?
"Miss," Sikong Jue gritted out, "the Duke wants you. You should not decline."
Song Yue was now absolutely convinced.
So Sikong Jue was jealous.
But also pushing her toward his "boyfriend."
A toxic relationship?
A bizarre client situation?
Who knew?
She patted Sikong Jue's shoulder sympathetically. "Whether he's your client or boyfriend, you shouldn't let others do the physical stuff for you. You should have self-respect."
Sikong Jue almost flipped the table. He had never been insulted so creatively in his life.
Li Meiran's lips curved slightly, the kind of smile that felt like a blade sliding across skin. "I want you," he said. "Come here."
Finally, Lan Xia snapped out of her love-struck haze. Her eyes widened in horror. The Duke's smile—beautiful but bloodthirsty—made her feel like he might drain someone dry. He looked like a devil disguised as a model.
"We're not selling anymore!" Lan Xia squeaked. "You all keep… doing whatever you were doing. We'll leave!"
She grabbed at the scattered merchandise, panicked.
But the atmosphere immediately shifted. Li Meiran tapped the armrest once—soft, controlled, deadly.
The two bodyguards stepped in, blocking the door with their huge bodies.
"The Duke said he wanted to buy," one murmured. "Didn't you hear?"
This was no longer a weird misunderstanding.
This was serious.
Song Yue swallowed hard, her pulse racing.
She couldn't run.
They wouldn't let her leave.
So she faced Li Meiran and forced her voice to steady. "Let's talk terms first. If I… give you what you want… will you buy my products?"
Sikong Jue snorted. "Would Duke Li Meiran lie to you?"
"I want to hear it from him," Song Yue said, refusing to look away. "If I give in, you will buy something. You must promise."
Li Meiran leaned back, lashes lowering as his gaze swept over her like a shadow.
"I promise," he said, voice low and wicked. "I'll give you the money."
Song Yue looked down, fists tightening. "Okay. It's a deal."
Li Meiran lifted his hand.
Immediately, Sikong Jue understood. He grabbed Lan Xia and dragged her toward the door.
"Let's go," he ordered. "Clear the room."
Lan Xia fought against his hold, panicked. "No! I'm not leaving! I want to stay with my friend!"
But none of them cared what she wanted.
And Song Yue realized— She might have wandered into something far darker than she ever expected.
*
Lan Xia's entire body went stiff. Something about Li Meiran's smile—slow, sharp, predatory—told her nothing about this was safe. Leaving Song Yue alone with him felt wrong. Dangerous. Impossible.
But Song Yue squeezed her hand hard, eyes sending a clear message. "Go back to the shop and bring more goods. We might be able to earn more," she said loudly.
A blatant lie. A desperate signal.
Run. Get help.
Lan Xia understood instantly. They didn't even have money for a second shipment. Song Yue was trying to protect her—trying to send her away before things got worse.
"Oh—oh! Yes, yes, I understand!" Lan Xia nodded quickly. She let Sikong Jue drag her out, then broke free from him the moment she reached the hallway and sprinted down the corridor.
The door shut behind her.
Silence followed.
Now only two people remained in the room—Song Yue, standing stiffly on trembling legs, and Li Meiran, lounging like a shadowy predator sizing up his prey.
He slid one hand to his belt and unbuckled his suit jacket, letting it fall open. His purple eyes gleamed in the dim light. "Come here," he murmured. "Undo my belt. Use your hands. I want to see how well you measure."
He smiled like a wolf showing its teeth.
Song Yue swallowed. Hard.
*
"Duke," she blurted, desperate to stall, "since you're a big client… I'll give you a twenty-percent discount. Total is 2,500 yuan."
Li Meiran's lips curved slowly. "I'll give you 2,500 yuan," he said, voice low and dark, "but I'll also take you. No excuses."
Before she could even gasp, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her as if she weighed nothing. She hit the sofa cushions with a soft thud.
"No—no, wait!" she cried, scrambling backward. "I don't want this! I don't want—"
But Li Meiran wasn't listening. He removed his blazer and tossed it aside. With deliberate movements, he unbuttoned his shirt one silver button at a time, eyes never leaving her. His gaze was hungry, wild. Dangerous.
"I keep my promises," he said softly. "I said I'd pay you. And I will."
Song Yue's heart hammered against her ribs. She'd never seen anyone like him—this mixture of arrogance, cruelty, and breathtaking beauty. She forced herself to think, to speak, to buy time.
"You're… you're a duke," she stammered. "Someone powerful. You shouldn't mess with a small person like me! How about this—if 2,500 is too much, we can call it a discount. Just give me 500 yuan and take the condoms. Then we're good."
They had to earn back their deposit. They couldn't afford to lose it. She grabbed his hand desperately. "Please? Five hundred is fine."
Li Meiran froze.
His eye twitched.
So she could've charged him 500— But she tried to take 2,500 instead?
His face darkened. "You think you can scam me? Little girl… now you will pay."
His hand slammed her back into the sofa. With frightening ease, he pinned both her wrists above her head.
Song Yue fought wildly, twisting under him. But he was too strong—his weight, his grip, his presence—everything was overwhelming.
She lifted her knee and slammed it straight into his crotch.