Chapter Thirteen: Becoming My Woman

When he learned she was Chinese, when he held the documents and discovered that the woman from that night was, in fact, the little girl who had once saved his life over a decade ago, something shifted within him. In that moment, he realized he no longer wished to let things end so abruptly.

Especially that night, when he felt an undeniable resistance as he entered her body—he knew such things only happened a woman’s first time. There was no sentimentality about lost innocence, but at the very least, it was a promising beginning, wasn’t it?

“…It’s fine if you don’t remember me, but I’ve taken a liking to you. How about you become my woman?” Shen Yanlie spoke with unwavering confidence, his deep, mellow voice accentuating every syllable as it brushed against her ear. The smile that played at his lips now appeared in Mai Xijun’s eyes as nothing but brazen arrogance.

Her astonishment was immediate—could this man be any more conceited or self-assured? “Your woman? Do I look like I’ve lost my mind or my sight?”

Mai Xijun stood up as she spoke. She knew very well he was a man of considerable means; the finely tailored suit he wore radiated an aura of dominance. Not to mention, his presence in this VIP lounge left her with little doubt as to his status.

Yet in a place like this, it wasn’t unusual for playboys to seek out a mistress. She had no intention of becoming someone so reviled, someone spat upon by the world, someone whose disgrace would be etched into history as a pariah.

“Mistress”—that word, in Mai Xijun’s eyes, deserved a thousand cuts, or better yet, to be dragged out and executed as a warning to all. She could never do something that would be drowned in the contempt of future generations, and she certainly couldn’t withstand the consequences.

Better to be brave now than to live in fear later.

Shen Yanlie’s expression stiffened, a chill seeping into his gaze. “Do I look like I’ve lost my mind or my sight?” Was she mocking him? Did she find him so unattractive? Did she think the very idea of being his woman was madness? He knew countless women lined up for a mere glance from him, yet here he was, facing rejection.

He pressed his lips together, his expression cold and detached, but his eyes shone with a strange light. He remained unmoved as Mai Xijun strode toward the door, sitting up straight and folding his arms across his chest. “I hear the woman making a scene outside just now is your rival in love?”

At that, Mai Xijun’s steps faltered, as if weighed down by lead. If he hadn’t appeared when he did, she truly didn’t know how she would have handled things—perhaps she would have simply fallen, becoming the laughingstock of the two traitors and everyone else present.

Should she be grateful to this man for his timely ‘heroic rescue’?

Shen Yanlie watched her graceful figure with a quiet intensity—the dress suited her perfectly. As she stood still, he allowed himself to take her in unabashedly. The lines of her back were lovely, her entire form brimming with allure. Though not voluptuous, every curve and hollow was exquisitely defined.

That night in Venice haunted him, the memory of her breathtaking tightness driving him to madness.

Mai Xijun clicked her tongue in annoyance, halting her steps to glare fiercely at the man before her. Yet she found herself at a loss for words, her bravado diminished by half. “What exactly do you want?”