"The Gilded Cage: Playing with Fire" Chapter 3
With that, the man turned and walked away.
I stood rooted to the spot, unable to stop retracing every detail of everything that had happened over the past few days.
By the end, my mind began to feel completely dazed. When I returned to the banquet, Christian was nowhere to be seen.
Only Logan sent me a message saying Christian wanted me to go home right now.
Perhaps due to the effect of the alcohol, my head felt heavy and dizzy. After arriving home, I actually fell straight asleep.
In a half-waking state, a heavy weight settled over me, and the scent of a man's cologne drifted into my nose.
Chapter 5: Beware of the Person Sharing Your Bed
Christian returned.
Without a shred of tenderness, he clamped his hand around my jaw and forced his lips onto mine.
I could feel his scorching heat, carrying a fiercely dominant aggression that made my chest tighten.
I covered my mouth, trying my best to suppress those fragmented sounds, but Christian seemed like a completely different person, refusing to let me off no matter what.
I lost track of how much time passed, and it was only when dawn was breaking that Christian finally let me go. Dazed and groggy, I reached out out of habit to take my pill, but Christian stopped me with a firm grip.
"Just sleep, don't take it."
I froze. "What if I get pregnant?"
Christian didn't answer; instead, he changed the subject. "Do me a favor over the next few days."
I was surprised. What could someone of Christian's stature possibly need my help with?
Suppressed by my doubts, I chose not to ask. I leaned against him and said in a coquettish tone.
"What kind of favor?"
"Go keep someone company for me."
Christian lit a cigarette, the smoke swirling around us, making it impossible for me to read his expression for a moment.
The air froze instantly. After a long silence, I nodded and said, "Alright."
A wave of profound sorrow washed over my heart.
A plaything, after all, is just a plaything.
Women like us are too often treated as commercial bargaining chips or disposable pawns in their circle.
I just never thought that one day, this would actually happen to me.
Forcing a smile, I nodded obediently.
But I failed to notice that Christian's gaze turned a few shades darker than before.
He stood up immediately and began to change his clothes, letting a gust of cold air slip into the blanket. Christian said indifferently, "I'm heading out. Stay inside the house properly these next few days."
With that, he took his car keys and left.
The door slammed shut with a deafening crash, leaving me utterly baffled, yet I knew he was angry.
The days drifted by, and Christian didn't come to see me again. I had no idea what that favor he wanted me to do actually entailed.
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But those words the man whispered to me that night at the banquet—"watch your step around the person sharing your bed"—refused to leave my mind.
It was an afternoon when I saw Christian again. He had Logan drive me to a restaurant where they were all discussing business inside a private room.
When I walked in, there were about a dozen people inside. Christian interrupted the conversation and wrapped his arm directly around my waist.
"This is my secretary."
In our line of work, certain things didn't need to be spoken aloud. Everyone exchanged deeply suggestive looks. I offered a graceful smile and glanced around casually, only to spot the one man I never wanted to see again in my life sitting in the corner.
Why... why was he here too?
It was only at this moment that I realized he was breathtakingly handsome.
With a faint smile playing on his lips, he slowly pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses and stood up composedly.
"Mrs. Christian, we meet again."
Christian glanced at him, patting his large hand against my waist. "Mr. Julian still remembers you."
I quickly smiled and thanked him. The man's expression wasn't particularly pleasant, but he simply nodded and sat back down.
Listening to their conversation, I finally pieced together what was actually going on.
The man's name was Julian, the eldest son of a real estate tycoon. Today, Christian hadn't called me here for him, but to keep someone else company.
That person wasn't Julian; it was the CEO of a local tourism enterprise.
Christian slipped a small object into my bag, his thin lips pressing close to my ear.
"In a moment, find an opportunity to plant this in Mr. Weston's room. Once it's done, a hefty sum will be yours."
I nodded, though a heavy sense of disappointment inevitably settled in my heart.
Chapter 6: The Special DV
The few sparks of affection I had developed for Christian vanished entirely.
Of course, how could a man like him ever truly care for me?
I had been far too naive before.
Letting out a bitter laugh, I drank two glasses of red wine to steady my nerves. Whether it was an illusion or not, I constantly felt a gaze scanning up and down my body.
Looking up, I saw Julian staring right at me, his lips moving slightly, though I couldn't make out what he was saying.
By the time Mr. Weston arrived, our dinner gathering was already drawing to a close.
Christian ordered a few more dishes. Mr. Weston glanced at him before shifting his gaze entirely to me.
"And this lady is?"
"My secretary."
Christian curled his lips slightly, and a suggestive look flashed across Mr. Weston's face.
"Excellent taste."
"Thank you."
Mr. Weston sat down right next to me. I hadn't eaten much earlier, so now that the fresh dishes were served, I was naturally quite hungry.
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I used my chopsticks to reach for some meat, but suddenly, I felt a pair of large hands appearing where they absolutely shouldn't be.
Mr. Weston kept a perfectly serious face while talking business with the others, but his hands were doing something entirely improper.
I looked to Christian for help, but he merely glanced at me and remained completely silent.
It was at that exact moment that I realized what true utter despair felt like.
A wave of bitterness spread through my mouth, and I lowered my head, giving up all resistance.
Julian suddenly stood up. "Mr. Weston, let me toast you. I've recently taken an interest in a project, I wonder if you would do me the honor of hearing it out?"
Julian's family was immensely wealthy, so even someone like Mr. Weston dared not snub him.
Reluctantly pulling his hand away from my thigh, Mr. Weston stood up to exchange pleasantries with Julian.
Inside, I breathed a massive sigh of relief.
To this day, I have never been able to truly read Christian's temperament.
He could have easily hired a high-end call girl to handle this kind of dirty work, so why did it have to fall on me?
Did Christian really not care if this old pervert actually took advantage of me?
After everyone was thoroughly fed and drunk, Mr. Weston wrapped his arm around my waist to lead me out. I leaned into his chest obediently, though the foul stench radiating from his body already made me violently nauseous.
Mr. Weston was quite old, probably in his late fifties, with sparse white hair scattered around the sides of his head while the center was shiny with grease, a textbook definition of a balding pervert.
Once inside the car, Mr. Weston pinned me against the back seat, his disgusting mouth instantly pressing kisses all over me. I was on the verge of throwing up but forced myself to endure it, responding with a warm, practiced smile.
This was what I owed Christian, and it was time to pay it back.
The car soon arrived at the hotel. The moment we stepped into the room, Mr. Weston tried to tear my clothes off.
My top was quickly ripped down by him, and just as he was about to throw himself onto me, a sudden inspiration hit me.
I used my hands to create some distance between us, softening my voice.
"Mr. Weston, take a shower first..."
"No need."
Mr. Weston kept nuzzling against me, but I gathered my courage again.
"Take a shower first, please~"
Only then did Mr. Weston stop his movements, giving me a deeply meaningful look.
"As expected of Director Christian's secretary, even your rejections are so charming and alluring."
Blushing at being seen through, I was relieved when Mr. Weston turned and walked into the bathroom anyway.
Sighing with relief, I scrambled off the bed immediately to search my bag for the object Christian had given me earlier.
It looked like a miniature DV camera, and judging by the branding, it was a high-end foreign import.
Even though Mr. Weston was currently occupied in the bathroom, this was my first time doing something like this, and my heart was pounding so violently it felt like it would burst from my chest.
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