"Torn Between Shadows" Chapter 15
Chapter 29: Playing with Something Exciting
Yet, Natalie did not regret it; she had bravely taken that step.
However, he used his actions to tell her that defying morality would bring retribution.
Thinking of this, Natalie's tears fell silently. "Is this how you train all your girlfriends?"
"Train?" He set down the medicine and gave a faint smile. "Calling it 'training' is actually quite fitting."
"But," his tone shifted as his voice took on a teasing edge, "I treat you the best."
"Save it." Her face was flushed with anger, but helpless, she softened her voice. "You can punish me, you can torture me, but you must release my person first. You can't let him suffer injustice in there."
As if not denying that he was the one who had him seized, he said idly, "Is he that important to you?"
"Very important," she blurted out. "We grew up together abroad, depending on each other. We aren't biological siblings, but we are closer than real ones."
"No matter what happened in the past, he was always by my side. Even though he’s just the nephew of a servant from my family, he lost his parents when he was young. He’s very pitiful. You can't treat him like this."
He summarized their relationship: childhood sweethearts who shared everything.
Yet, for some reason, he felt a surge of bitterness.
A man understands men best; there was no way the boy's feelings for her were merely those of a younger brother for an older sister.
Furthermore, they were the same age, separated only by a few months.
He gave a cold snort. "The punishment period is half a month. After that, I’ll take you back home."
"Half a month? That's so long."
"Then make it a month."
Natalie was close to crying from frustration. "Half a month then! Not a single day more!"
Whether his word carried any weight or not, she had to agree for now.
But nothing escaped his sharp eyes.
Natalie waited until she fell asleep, never getting a chance to touch her phone.
Waking up the next day, she saw him sitting by the bed, changing her bandages.
"It's nothing serious. You can go for a walk outside today."
She propped herself up to get out of bed, her first instinct being to look for her phone.
She didn't find the phone, but she met his cold, ruthless gaze. "For these two weeks, you are not allowed to use a phone."
"Why?"
"To prevent you from contacting your former husband."
No matter how much she pleaded, he remained unmoved.
Soft tactics didn't work, and hard ones were out of the question.
She didn't know how she endured those fifteen days.
Every day involved intense physical exercise, and at night, she had to be at his beck and call.
She was exhausted to her core every single day; she felt it would have been better to be in the detention center in the boy's place.
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At least it might have been more humane than being with him.
On the night before she was to regain her freedom, as she went to prepare the water for his foot bath as usual, he stopped her. "Tonight, let's play something else."
Meeting the danger in his eyes, her spine stiffened.
He unbuckled his watch, his gaze particularly playful.
Sensing trouble, she hurried into the bathroom, only to find various "toys" laid out.
Just as she tried to run out, he walked in, scooped her up, and placed her in the bathtub.
"Be good."
"I don't want to!" She shook her head desperately, feeling utterly lost. In the next second, her wrists were cuffed.
Then came her ankles.
Feeling a chill, she found herself exposed and vulnerable before him, while he remained perfectly dressed.
She was too nervous to look him in the eye. "This is... so awkward."
Not just awkward, but she felt like crying.
He let out a low chuckle. "Let's play a game called 'Truth'."
"What? Truth?" She thought she had misheard. "Didn't you say you already know everything about me?"
Whether he knew or not was one thing; regardless, she wouldn't honestly disclose her affairs.
Perhaps he was just bluffing—otherwise, why would he want to play this game?
He countered, "Don't you want to know about my affairs?"
Oh, right. But was he really kind enough to let her know his secrets?
She hadn't forgotten that two weeks ago in Macau, he had said they weren't in an equal relationship.
Over the past half-month, she had realized he wanted her to be his slave.
She hadn't expected him to have such a fetish.
But she was unwilling to be his slave.
Still, for now, she could only play along. "Of course I do. Shall we start?"
"Ladies first."
She stared at the candle in his hand and couldn't help but shrink back. "Five years ago, you were about to graduate from university. Why did you drop out halfway?"
He corrected her, "You can't ask it like that. You can only ask if the dropout was because of something specific. The person answering can only say 'yes' or 'no'."
"Uh... fine." She asked again, "Were you forced to drop out?"
He actually thought for a moment before answering, "Yes."
Then it was his turn: "Did you marry him because you knew his family was the most likely to take over the long-abandoned South District redevelopment project?"
She bit her lip. "No."
"Don't lie."
"I didn't—ah! No, don't!"
"Natalie, this is the punishment for lying."
When he tormented her, he didn't even blink, appearing bloodthirsty and heartless.
She spoke through gritted teeth, "This is so unfair. If you lie, what is the punishment?"
"I don't lie."
She trembled with rage. After a while, she asked, "Do you hate that woman and her son so much that you wish they were dead?"
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He answered without hesitation, "Yes."
She naturally believed this answer.
He asked, "Is your next step to start with the South District project and uncover what happened back then?"
She bit her lip. "I don't know what you're talking about. What happened back then? Is there anything worth investigating?"
"You're lying again!"
This time, during the punishment, she kept her eyes shut and remained silent.
"It seems this isn't enough for you." He brought over something else.
Opening her eyes and seeing a water pipe, she gasped.
"Don't say I didn't warn you. If you lie again, I won't be so patient."
She held her breath and made a desperate gamble: "Was your brother murdered?"
"No."
His answer was decisive.
Caught off guard, she asked again, "Did you hear that from the family?"
He reminded her, "My dear, that's two questions. You have to answer me before you can ask another."
She took a deep breath. "Fine."
"Do you love him?"
"...?"
"I... do not."
"Since you don't love him, why did you have to think about it for so long?"
She said, "I was with him for half a year. I had to think about what my feelings for him really were."
He looked at her with half-belief, finally seeming to accept her explanation.
"Your turn."
She asked a question about feelings too: "Do you like me?"
He raised a lazy eyebrow. "I do. But there's no need to ask; a man only wants to have a physical relationship with a woman if he likes her."
"Oh, is that so?" She gave a cold laugh. "Then you must like quite a lot of women."
The corner of his mouth hooked up as he added, "When a man likes a woman, he will only want to have a physical relationship with her alone."
As soon as the words were out, he stepped into the bathtub.
Realizing what he wanted to do, she leaned in to meet him—it was better than enduring his "torture."
Standing before her, he didn't seem to have that intention.
He raised his hand and caressed her cheek, his gaze carrying only a faint smile. "He was your brother. Did you come back to get revenge for him?"
She almost blurted out the truth but held it back. "What do you mean? Didn't he commit suicide?"
He placed a hand on the back of her head. Instead of answering, he said, "You only need to answer me: yes or no."
Unsure of his objective or his stance, she didn't dare speak recklessly. She bit her lip hard and said nothing.
He tapped the back of her head rhythmically, his gaze sinister. "It seems you like playing with something exciting."
Chapter 30: Getting a Bargain and Acting Like a Victim
Natalie didn't like excitement; she was so terrified she couldn't stop shaking.
She was deathly afraid he would use those "toys" on her.
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In her panic, she lunged at him, wanting to go down together.
However, her forehead struck the metal buckle of his belt with pinpoint accuracy.
Before he even laid a hand on her, she had managed to injure herself, leaving her head spinning.
With the new injury on top of the old one, the pain made her screw up her face.
He felt both pity and amusement. Rubbing her head, he felt a sudden surge of tenderness for this silly girl.
He wanted to cherish her.
Before she could recover, she felt a sudden heat at the small of her back and began to tremble violently. "No... don't..."
His lips curled wickedly. "Women usually say 'no' before it starts. You're no exception."
"You misunderstand. When I say 'no,' I really mean no! Ah... ah!"
Regardless of her cries, he sat her on the edge of the bathtub, took her hand, and placed it on his belt, his gaze playful.
...
Coming out of the bathroom, she finally managed to catch her breath.
She hid under the covers, wrapping herself tightly.
The hot air she breathed out stayed trapped against her face, making her feel hot and suffocated.
Only the feeling of near-suffocation kept her from overthinking.
Until someone pulled back the duvet. She felt a coolness on her face, but there was no joy of being "reborn," only a sense of grievance.
His damp fingertip brushed her cheek. "What, planning to use death as a threat?"
His tone was somewhat cold, devoid of warmth. In the same voice, he added, "If you die, I won't feel a thing. In fact, I'll mock you."
She opened her eyes slightly, her gaze sweeping over his tall, sturdy frame. A mysterious smile touched her lips.
He narrowed his eyes. "What are you laughing at?"
She said, "The people who act the most detached are often the ones who can't let go in the end."
He sat on the sofa behind him, his gaze casual. "Then what should I do? How about I marry you and we go get the certificate tomorrow?"
Even though she knew he was joking, she blurted out instinctively, "Who'd want that..."
She quickly shifted her tone: "I'm of no help to your career. The other woman is. You should go ruin her instead."
She was genuinely afraid he was being serious.
He pulled a cigarette from the pack and bit it, a lazy curve on his lips. He smiled and didn't deny it.
She rolled over, deciding that what the eye doesn't see, the heart doesn't grieve over.
Clearly afraid he was serious, yet she shamelessly harbored a bit of expectation.
The human mind is sometimes like Schrodinger's cat.
The next day, he kept his word and took her back home, even personally dropping her off at her residence.
As soon as they arrived, she couldn't wait to get out of the car.
This was the house her former husband had kindly gifted her. Not only that, but he had also deposited a significant amount of money into her account.
Perhaps he was worried she would end up wandering the streets after leaving him.
He was actually quite a good man, just a bit hard to read, with a personality that was far too restrained.
The other man followed her up.
She couldn't shake him off. She opened the door and immediately shouted inside, "Haoran..."
In the empty house, there was no one to answer her.
Except for the man who had followed her in: "He’s out, but he's not here."
"Then where is he?" In her haste, she tried to reach into his pocket to take back her phone without his permission.
He grabbed her wrist, his tone firm. "I'm giving you half an hour to pack. From today, you can't live here anymore."
She knit her brows. "Then where?"
"The First Mansion."
"Living with you?"
The corner of her mouth twitched visibly. Her head spun, and she felt as if she might faint.
His deep voice sounded again: "You're overthinking. I bought two apartments for you and the boy on the floor below mine. Living close makes it easier for us to keep in touch."
Natalie: "..."
She gave a mirthless smile. "You're surprisingly generous."
Is that entire building filled with his on-call girlfriends?
That night, she had seen him lead another woman home with her own eyes.
He gave a cold snort and released her hand. "Stop talking nonsense and go pack your things."
She felt very unsettled but was powerless.
He was a dangerous man. If she didn't listen to him, there was no telling how he would mess with her.
Half an hour on the dot, and she came out with both her and the boy's belongings.
However, she couldn't fit some of the computer equipment.
He slowly finished his cigarette, walked over, and took the suitcase from her. "Someone will come to move the rest. You don't need to worry about it."
She followed him down and got into the car.
The extended cabin was spacious; crucially, it allowed her to maintain a social distance from him, which she found relatively comfortable.
But his words were irritating: "Once we're back, don't spend all your time plotting unrealistic things against me with your person."
"Otherwise, if your identities are exposed, you'll have only yourselves to blame."
She met his cold, detached gaze with a fake smile and nodded. "Mhm, I understand."
He was somewhat surprised. "So obedient?"
"A soldier trained by you knows when to submit."
"Also..."
Before he could finish, she answered decisively, "Whatever you say goes. Only..."
"Speak."
She suddenly leaned in close, staring directly into his eyes, and lowered her voice: "Since I'm being so obedient and keeping you happy, tell me everything you know, okay?"
She was coaxing him like a child, not a man, but sometimes men were like children—selfish and willful.
He tilted his head. "You really want to know?"
"Mhm."
"I'm not telling you." He reached out, placed a hand on the back of her head, and pulled her toward him.
The familiar sense of control and the familiar warmth instantly covered her entire head. Just as she held her breath, she was filled with the scent of the man.
He kissed her lightly at first, then deepened it, step by step robbing her of oxygen.
Soon, her face was flushed from the lack of air.
He stopped, his nose brushing her cheek as he said huskily, "Is your nose just for show? Breathe."
When she was nervous, she would forget to breathe.
She shook her head innocently, every pore resisting him. "I don't know how. Don't be too harsh. Just let me off today!"
"Don't be too harsh?" He chuckled. "I didn't see you letting me off the first time."
She knit her brows slightly. "Don't get a bargain and act like a victim. That was my first time."
His eyes were dark and unreadable as he looked away from her face and toward the car window.
He told the driver to stop.
Before she could ask what they were doing, she was pulled out of the car and into a luxury store.
He told her not to be polite with him.
"You're being this kind?" She looked puzzled.
"You're my woman now. I can't mistreat you."
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