After hanging up, he first went to the company in a low-profile manner.

Suppressing the complex emotions surging within like a tide, he simply processed the work that had piled up over the past few days and signed off on projects requiring funding.

Immediately afterward, he hurried to the villa in the suburbs.

The safe on the third underground level radiated a cold aura in the dim light.

He slowly opened the safe and took out the lavish gift he had prepared: a Song Dynasty painting of a steed.

His fingers gently stroked the scroll, but his thoughts had already drifted far away.

Just after returning to the ground from the basement, his phone rang abruptly, the screen flashing with several missed calls, all from Chen Lin.

Julian’s heart tightened as if gripped by an invisible giant hand; his heartbeat accelerated violently, as if trying to burst through his chest.

His fingertips trembled uncontrollably, and with a mix of tension and anticipation, he quickly called back.

"Did you find her?" His voice was hoarse, laced with an indiscernible urgency.

"Found her at Hongyun Pier," Chen Lin’s voice carried a smile: "I had someone knock her out with alcohol; shall I have her brought to you now?"

A deep, dark light flickered in Julian’s eyes: "Send her to '檀岛壹号' (Hawaii No. 1)."

Upon hearing this, Chen Lin couldn't help but be shocked, his tone full of astonishment:

"Now that you've regained what was lost, are you really going to take her to Hawaii No. 1?"

"This place was prepared for her from the start; I was just too soft-hearted before," Julian said through gritted teeth, enunciating each word clearly.

Hanging up the phone, he stood in place and took a deep breath.

This time, he would definitely teach her a good lesson and make her fully understand that the price of deceiving him would be painful.

◇ Chapter 17

When Clara Vance woke up, it was pitch black before her eyes.

A blindfold was tied tightly over her eyes, and her body was restrained on a soft bed.

Her heart jumped to her throat in an instant, and fear, like a surging tide, drowned her completely.

Countless chilling conjectures flooded her mind uncontrollably.

Could it be that she had been targeted by that brutal criminal organization before even reaching her destination?

But how was that possible?

She hadn't even done anything yet!

Driven by this overwhelming fear, she subconsciously struggled with all her might.

Her wrists were bound tightly to the brass headboard of the bed with wide, soft yet tough silk. Every time she struggled, the silk rubbed against her skin like a gentle shackle, but she couldn't break free.

The feeling of powerlessness haunted her, making her increasingly panicked and disoriented.

Suddenly, a warm hand pressed onto her wrist without warning, stopping her futile struggle.

Clara’s entire body shuddered violently; her heart nearly stopped, and her breathing became rapid instantly.

The next second, that hand slid slowly and faintly along her slender forearm, carrying a hint of ambiguity, all the way to her slender neck.

Fear clung to her like a ghost; she shivered subconsciously, her teeth chattering uncontrollably.

A terrifying thought arose in her mind: Does this person want to kill me?

However, the next second, that hand began to wander restlessly, sliding slowly from the line of her neck toward her chest.

The hand teased her with extremely practiced movements, making her feel completely uncomfortable, as if countless ants were crawling on her body.

"Get away!"

Clara screamed in terror, her voice already laced with a sob, filled with pleading and resistance.

The sound echoed in the quiet space, adding to her helplessness.

But the hand seemed not to hear her cries, continuing to move on its own, wantonly plucking at her nerves.

The other party said nothing as they undid her clothing buttons.

A hand in a rubber glove grazed her bare skin.

"Who are you! Don't touch me!" She twisted her body, trying to escape that hand.

But her body was restrained, and every twist seemed so powerless.

The next second, a heavy weight pressed down on her thighs.

She dared not move again.

That hand seemed to be tormenting her on purpose, crawling slowly to her sensitive areas, teasing her at a leisurely pace.

Every touch made her heart race, fear and shame intertwined.

Tears slid from her temples; Clara felt an indescribable fear.

"Bastard, let me go! Take your hand away!"

"Get away! I won't let you off!"

She cursed and struggled with all her might, but it was all in vain.

That unseen hand continued to act wantonly, leaving cold traces on her body.

Finally, she curled up in despair and pleaded:

"Please... let me go..."

Her voice was full of brokenness and hopelessness.

However, she was not let go.

A "rip" sound was heard as a knife sliced through the fabric on her thigh.

The sound of tearing cloth in the pin-drop silent room added an extra sense of eeriness and horror, with a hair-raising eroticism.

The rubber glove was removed and, wet with moisture, was tossed casually onto her chest.

A warm and powerful hand pressed onto her thigh.

The moment skin touched skin, goosebumps broke out all over her body.

Every hair stood on end.

Warm breath sprayed against her neck as the person took a light bite.

Her body shuddered, and with a trace of anticipation, she asked uncertainly:

"Julian Sterling... is it you?"

The other party bit her earlobe, the force increasing instantly, seemingly dissatisfied with her confusion.

However, the other party did not answer her.

The surroundings remained dead silent, with only the sound of her rapid breathing echoing in the darkness.

The heavy bed creaked with the movement.

She twisted her waist to avoid it but was mercilessly flipped over.

Those pincer-like hands pressed onto her waist, making it impossible for her to crawl away.

The moment she felt the heat, she felt a broad and familiar chest cover her back.

The familiar sound of breathing rang in her ears.

That breath was so familiar, as if carved into the depths of her soul.

Immediately after, a gentle kiss landed lightly on her left eye through the black silk blindfold.

In that instant, she almost had the urge to shed tears.

Her hands, bound by silk, subconsciously gripped that warm, large hand tightly: "Julian, Julian... don't be like this..."

Her tearful voice did not win the man’s pity.

When she woke up again, she was still tied to the bed.

Only, this time, she was covered only over her right eye, which had been able to see.

◇ Chapter 18

When Clara woke up, her consciousness was still hazy, but she keenly noticed that someone was extremely carefully removing the prosthetic eye from her left side.

The movement was very gentle, like a breeze brushing across petals.

Immediately after, a faint sound of water came, and the prosthetic eye was reinserted back into place with extreme tenderness.

She blinked a few times, not quite accustomed to it.

Then, warm breath approached, and soft lips landed on her eyelids, first sucking lightly, then licking slowly.

She shivered involuntarily, an eerie feeling as if her soul were about to be sucked out.

"Julian, can you let me go?"

She still couldn't see anything.

However, after knowing that the person beside her was him, she finally lost that sense of extreme panic.

Julian ignored her and remained silent.

She thought for a moment and spoke again:

"Julian, I’m feeling a bit hungry..."

A moment later, someone loosened the silk binding her a little, with just the right amount of force to allow her to sit up in bed.

Immediately, a spoon filled with warm food was slowly brought to her lips.

She opened her mouth and ate it.

Next, a straw was extended, icy and cool; it was her favorite iced cola.

After eating, the person wiped her hands with a towel, and then there was no more movement.

Subsequently, the surroundings fell into silence once again, with not a trace of motion.

She leaned against the headboard as her reason slowly returned.

After a long while, she asked softly: "Julian, how much do you know?"

She knew clearly that her faked death had been exposed and Julian had found her.

This meant that he already knew at least something about what had happened to her family.

But now, what she didn't know was exactly how much he knew.

Julian remained silent, like a quiet mountain peak in the dark of night.

She felt someone sit down by the side of the bed.

Immediately after, she was gently held in his arms, in a posture as intimate as holding a precious pillow. Clara also fell into silence, and in this quiet atmosphere, memories of the past rushed in like a tide.

In the wooden bed of their rental apartment on a sunny afternoon, he would hold her waist and sleep with his head on her lap. She would sit at the head of the bed, slowly reading a book.