The presidential suite was plunged into darkness, save for a single bedside lamp that cast a soft, warm glow, wrapping the opulently cold room in a gentle veil of warmth. From the bathroom, the sound of running water abruptly ceased, followed by the creak of a door being pushed open. A tall man emerged, clad only in a loosely tied bath towel that hung precariously around his waist.
He was breathtakingly handsome, his features chiseled as if carved by a master sculptor with a sharp blade, each line and angle perfectly proportioned to form a face of striking perfection. His smooth skin, bathed in the lamp's soft radiance, glowed with a healthy bronze hue, a testament to vitality and strength. His slender yet robust frame exuded an unyielding firmness, every muscle defined beneath the thin fabric of the towel. His jet-black eyes were bottomless, like a mysterious black hole brimming with untold power, capable of ensnaring one's very soul in an instant. His high, straight nose carried an air of arrogant confidence, reminiscent of a reigning monarch who commanded awe and reverence with a mere glance. There was an innate nobility and overwhelming dominance emanating from him, an aura that demanded submission without a single word.
The unfamiliar scent in the air caused Long Qingyue's dark eyes to instantly turn frigid. His sharp gaze pierced through the dimness toward the balcony curtains, a faint, sardonic curve tugging at the corner of his perfect lips. He turned leisurely toward the wine cabinet, his movements unhurried as he poured himself a glass of red wine. The exquisite crystal goblet held the crimson liquid, its rich hue glinting under the light, a sight both alluring and haunting.
He swirled the glass slowly in his hand, his posture lazy yet majestic, like a noble cheetah resting before a hunt. Yet his eyes grew colder still, as icy as the snowflakes falling on the coldest day of winter, devoid of any warmth or emotion. Tilting his head back, he downed the entire glass of wine in one gulp, the liquid sliding down his throat with a burning warmth. With a sharp clink, he set the goblet heavily on the bar counter, then strode purposefully toward the balcony.
With a sudden swish, he pulled back the heavy velvet curtains, revealing a trembling girl huddled in the corner. In one swift movement, he lifted her up effortlessly and pressed her firmly against the cold window pane. This woman was rather intriguing, he thought—far smarter than those who threw themselves at him, stripping naked in a desperate attempt to seduce him. She knew how to play games, to pique his interest with subtle tricks. But no matter how clever her ploys, in his eyes, she was nothing more than a petty clown.
To Long Qingyue, all women were merely tools for his pleasure, objects to satiate his desires and warm his bed—never would he waste even a shred of emotion on them. Despite the dim light, his naturally sharp eyes allowed him to see the girl clearly at once. She had a pair of extraordinarily beautiful eyes, bright and clear as polished ink jade, brimming with the radiance of the entire world, full of innocence, wit, and vitality. Coupled with the faint, cool fragrance that clung to her skin, a shiver of desire shot through his lower abdomen. She was truly a rare beauty, one who could stir a man's passions with just a single glance.
That unique scent of hers was particularly appealing to him. He loathed the cloying perfume and heavy powder that most women doused themselves in, but her fragrance was different—soft, misty, like the scent of lotus flowers drifting through a cool evening breeze, a cold yet delicate aroma that captivated his senses. It was a shame, really, he mused—she was nothing but a prostitute.
"Don't touch me, please…" Mu Nuanxin's voice trembled, her delicate face flushed with a feverish heat. The strands of hair on her forehead were soaked with sweat, clinging to her soft skin, and her tender lips parted slightly, like a fish gasping for air, utterly deprived of oxygen. She was tormented by the该死的 drug coursing through her veins, her body burning with an unbearable heat. The coldness of the window behind her and the touch of the man's warm hands sent a wave of pleasure through her, a craving so intense she could barely resist. Yet the last shreds of her sanity screamed at her to push him away, to fight against the desires threatening to consume her.
"Aren't you here to sell yourself?" The man's dark eyes suddenly blazed with an inexplicable anger. With a violent yank, he tore her thin dress in two, the fabric falling to the floor in tattered pieces, exposing her delicate skin to the cold air.