Chapter 3

I got into Julian's car.

The car was filled with a faint sandalwood scent, just like the man himself: cool and reserved.

Julian didn't look at me, as if the woman beside him, fresh from his rival's bed, was mere air.

"Where to?" he asked.

I leaned back against the seat, trying my best not to look too disheveled, but the discomfort in my body was impossible to hide.

"Just drop me off at any hotel," I said, my voice a little hoarse.

Julian turned his head, his gaze lingering for a second on the bruise on my neck, the one Ethan had left last night.

He chuckled softly, a touch of mockery in his tone. "Ethan has a heavy hand."

I didn't respond, just pulled my collar higher.

"Miss Miller, you're a smart woman." Julian retracted his gaze, his voice flat. "A madman like Ethan is enough for one time. Keep playing with him, and you'll lose your life."

I scoffed inwardly.

Playing?

In their eyes, I was probably just a plaything, risking my life for money.

"Since you know where I came from, Mr. Thorne, are you really letting me in your car?" I turned to him, deliberately needling him. "Aren't you afraid I might 'snap' too?"

Julian looked at me, his eyes deep. "I'm not interested in madmen, but I am very interested in someone who can make Ethan snap."

The meaning behind his words was clear.

He wanted to use me to get to Ethan.

Perfect, that suited me just fine.

I was already struggling to find a reason to get close to him, so since he delivered himself to my doorstep, he shouldn't blame me for taking advantage.

"What do you want me to do, Mr. Thorne?" I asked directly.

Julian pulled a file from the glove compartment and handed it to me.

"Be my personal assistant, and my eyes and ears." His tone was casual. "I want to know all of Ethan's recent movements. In exchange, I can offer you protection and money."

I took the file and glanced at it; it was essentially a binding contract.

But right now, what I needed most was money and protection.

The police might hold Ethan off for a while, but that madman would surely be out soon.

Hiding with Julian was the safest option.

"Deal." I closed the file. "But I have one condition."

"Speak."

"I want a month's salary in advance, cash."

Julian raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised by my bluntness. "Alright."

The car stopped outside a five-star hotel.

Julian handed me a room key card. "Penthouse suite. Go clean yourself up, and come see me when you're presentable."

He said "clean yourself up" with a clear note of disdain in his voice.

A germaphobe, indeed.

I took the room card, said nothing, and got out of the car.

Once in the room, I locked the door, then rushed into the bathroom.

The moment the hot water hit my skin, I felt alive again.

My body was covered in bruises, thanks to that monster Ethan.

I cursed him as I washed, while also plotting how to handle Julian.

This guy was immune to conventional tactics, and he was "allergic" to women, so normal approaches wouldn't work.

The system's data said that Julian was actually a pseudo-ascetic.

His repressed desires were stronger than anyone else's; he just hid them too well.

After showering, I ordered room service, which delivered a clean set of clothes and the cash I'd requested.

A full hundred thousand dollars.

I counted it twice, feeling much better.

Money brought a sense of security.

The next day, I reported to Julian's company.

If I was going to be a "spy," I had to play the part convincingly.

Julian didn't shortchange me; he gave me a position as a presidential assistant, which essentially meant keeping me under his watchful eye.

But I knew he didn't trust me.

My office computer, even my phone, was surely bugged.

That afternoon, I deliberately took a call in the office.

It was an insurance telemarketer, but I acted as if I were reporting to Ethan.

"Yes, he's at the office... Right, no plans tonight... Okay, I understand, I'll keep an eye on things."

After hanging up, I could feel the red light of the camera in the corner of the office blink once.

That evening, Julian called me to his villa.

It was a sprawling estate nestled on a hillside, filled with books everywhere.

The moment I stepped inside, I was hit by the strong scent of sandalwood.

Julian sat in the tea room, brewing tea, dressed in a white linen loungewear, looking even more ethereal.

"Come here." He poured a cup of tea and pushed it across from him.

I walked over and sat down, picking up the cup and taking a sip.

"I hear you contacted Ethan today?" he asked without looking up.

I put down the teacup, forcing a wry smile. "Mr. Thorne, since you're already listening in, why bother asking?"

Julian looked up at me. "You're quite upfront."

"How else can I survive?" I looked at him. "Ethan has leverage over me. If I don't report something, he'll kill me."

"What leverage?"

I bit my lip, said nothing, but then turned around and lifted the back of my top.

There, a vivid red spider lily tattoo was inked on my lower back.

I'd gotten it at a small tattoo parlor near the hotel yesterday, to cover a hickey Ethan had left. That spot was too intimate; if Julian saw it, he'd definitely be suspicious.

"What is this?" Julian frowned.

"A mark Ethan left on me," I lied without batting an eye. "He said as long as this flower remains, I can only be his."

Julian's eyes instantly turned cold.

A man with such strong possessive tendencies would despise anything belonging to someone else encroaching on his territory.

Even if I was just a pawn to him, I could only be his pawn.

"Get it removed," he said icily.

"Can't be removed." I lowered my top and turned around. "Not unless I peel off the skin."

Julian stared at me for a moment, then suddenly stood up and walked to me.

He reached out, and through my clothes, pressed his hand against the spot of the tattoo.

His fingers were icy cold, yet they felt like an electric current.

"Then we'll cover it."

After saying that, he suddenly tore at my clothes.

The sound of fabric ripping echoed harshly in the quiet tea room.

A large portion of my back was exposed to the air.

Julian looked at the glaring red spider lily, a flicker of disgust in his eyes, but more so, a provoked possessiveness.

"Stay tonight," he said, his voice low. "Help me meditate."

My heart leaped with joy.

Opportunity.

Meditate?

What kind of sane man keeps a woman overnight to meditate?

I nodded obediently. "Alright."

Julian's room was in the deepest part of the villa.

I knelt on a cushion, holding a brush, pretending to transcribe.

Julian sat beside me, eyes closed, meditating.

Only our breathing filled the room.

The atmosphere was so oppressive it made one want to scream.

But I knew this was exactly what Julian wanted.

He was restraining himself, enduring.

After transcribing for a while, I deliberately let my hand tremble, and ink splattered onto my skirt.

"Oh dear," I gasped softly.

Julian opened his eyes, looking at me with some displeasure. "What happened?"

"I got ink on it." I looked at him with an innocent expression. "Mr. Thorne, could I borrow some clothes to change into?"

Julian glanced at me, his eyes scrutinizing.

But he still stood up. "Wait here."

He turned and left.

I watched his retreating back, a faint smile playing on my lips.

When he returned, he held a loose, white shirt.

It was his shirt.

I took it but didn't go to the restroom. Instead, I started unbuttoning my skirt right in front of him.

Julian froze.

"What are you doing?" His voice held a hint of panic.

"Changing clothes, of course," I said with a look that suggested it was the most obvious thing in the world.

What kind of twisted logic was that? But I was betting his mind was already in disarray.

As I moved, my skirt slipped down, revealing the black lace lingerie I had carefully prepared underneath.

In the dim light, the stark contrast of black and white was incredibly impactful.

Julian's breathing hitched instantly.

His usually cool eyes finally showed the desire I wanted to see.

"Alice, do you know where you are?" His voice was hoarse, like a warning, yet also a plea.

I stood barefoot on the cold floor, stepping towards him, one by one.

Until I stood before him, I reached out and hooked my fingers around his sleeve.

"I know," I whispered, leaning close to his ear.

Snap.

Julian's tightly strung nerve finally broke.

He suddenly reached out, gripped my waist, and pressed me to the floor.