A night of chaos, heat, and tangled passion.
When Cheng Anya woke up the next morning, her whole body was sore, and she mentally cursed Ye Chen a million times over.
Damn it, that man was a beast—an absolute beast!
Her body was covered in bruises, purple marks where he'd gripped her too hard, kissed her too fiercely. She deliberately ignored the scratch marks she'd left all over Ye Chen's back, instead cursing his ancestors up and down.
Her petite frame was still locked tightly in his arms. It took all her strength to wriggle free. The sky was already starting to lighten. She hurried to get dressed, wincing at the pain between her legs, cursing Ye Chen under her breath again. Finally managing to put on her clothes, she reached into her pocket—only to find a single 100 yuan bill.
(⊙o⊙)…
A hundred yuan for a ten-million-yuan night in hell? Fair trade?
Whatever. He was the one who used her up and walked away clean. She got the short end of the stick. Not enough? He could cover the rest himself.
Still, spending a hundred yuan pained her. Paying to be in pain? She must've lost her mind.
By her math, Ye Third Young Master was only worth 100 yuan. Dirt cheap. If he found out, he'd probably cough up blood. o(╯□╰)o
With that thought, Cheng Anya felt much better. She left the bill on the table, tore a piece of blank paper, and scribbled a note: You damn beast—here's your "fee." Goodbye!!
Then, like a thief in the night, she tiptoed out of the room and bolted.
She needed to find Lin Li and settle the score—drugging her like that? Was she tired of living?
Besides, if Ye Chen really came asking for ten million, even selling herself a hundred times over wouldn't cover it.
When Ye Chen finally woke up, dawn was breaking. He lazily hugged the pillow beside him—then froze. Something felt off. He suddenly opened his eyes. The room was empty.
His gaze darkened, and his perfectly defined features took on a dangerous sharpness. Under the soft morning light, he looked both lazy and lethal.
That damn girl.
She actually escaped?
Let her run. No one escapes from Ye Chen's grasp. That troublesome girl… tasted pretty damn good.
He was intrigued now—Ye Third Young Master had officially developed a taste for her.
Then his eyes landed on the table—on a bright pink 100 yuan note. A sense of foreboding settled over him. His eyelid twitched hard.
This better not be what he thinks it is.
But of course, he'd underestimated Cheng Anya's devilish nature.
When he saw the neat handwriting on the white paper beside the money, Ye Chen's eyes darkened completely. A killing aura radiated from him like a storm.
Beast?
A hundred yuan?
A fee for his "services"?
Oh. Oh, very good.
Crushing the paper in his hand, Ye Third Young Master smiled—twisted and cold.