The city lights blurred into long, golden streaks against the tinted windows of the Maybach.
Inside the car, the silence was absolute. Fu Yao sat on the far side of the leather bench, his silhouette sharp against the passing neon. He had removed his tuxedo jacket, leaving him in a crisp white shirt that seemed to strain against the breadth of his shoulders. He hadn't looked at her once since they left the reception.
Li Yue huddled in her corner, the massive skirt of her wedding dress taking up most of the space between them. She felt small, drained, and cold.
"You didn't eat," he said suddenly.
His voice made her jump. It was the first time he'd spoken since they left the hotel.
"I wasn't hungry," she whispered, twisting the heavy platinum band on her finger.
"Okay," was all he replied, his tone flat and unreadable.
When the car finally pulled through the iron gates of the Fu villa, Li Yue's heart began to gallop. The house was a fortress of modern stone and glass, perched on the edge of the water. It was beautiful, but it felt hollow.
He led her inside, the marble floors echoing with the click of her heels. They reached the master suite, a room draped in black silks and dark wood. A single lamp was lit, casting long, predatory shadows across the massive bed.
"The bathroom is through there," Fu Yao said, gesturing to a frosted glass door. "I'll have my valet bring your things."
"Fu Yao?" she called out as he turned to leave.
He paused, his hand on the doorframe. He looked back at her, his expression a mask of disciplined calm. "Yes?"
"I... thank you. For helping my father."
His eyes narrowed slightly, a flash of something dark and complex crossing his face. "It was a business arrangement, Li Yue. Don't make it something it isn't."
He closed the door, leaving her alone in the silent room. Li Yue stood there for a long time, staring at the bed. She moved toward the bathroom, her hands trembling as she began to unlace the back of her gown.
She showered quickly, the hot water doing nothing to settle her nerves. When she stepped out, she found a silk box on the counter. Inside was the lingerie her mother-in-law had chosen, a scarlet arrangement of silk strings and sheer lace that felt more like an insult than a garment.
She put it on because she didn't have a choice. It was a gift and she could not say no. Besides, none of her clothes are here yet.
When she walked back into the bedroom, Fu Yao was already there. He was propped up against the headboard, a tablet in his hand, looking through documents as if it were just another Tuesday night. He had changed into silk pajama bottoms, his chest bare, revealing the hard, defined planes of his torso.
Li Yue stood at the edge of the bed, feeling the cool air on her exposed skin. She waited for him to look up, to say something, to claim what he had bought.
He didn't. He didn't even glance her way.
"Go to sleep," he said, his eyes never leaving the screen. "You must be tired."
Li Yue crawled under the black silk sheets, keeping to the very edge of the mattress. She stared at the wall, her back to him. An invisible line had been drawn down the center of the bed, a border of silence.
She closed her eyes, thinking of Mei's "submarine" comment. She thought she was safe behind that line. Was she rejected again.
But behind her, in the dark, Fu Yao turned off his tablet. He lay back, his eyes fixed on the back of her neck, his breathing slow and rhythmic. He didn't touch her. He didn't move.
But the heat radiating from his body was a promise that the line wouldn't hold forever.