Kristen's heart gave a hard tremor. His warm breath spilled into the hollow of her neck, sending a numb shiver through half her body.
Even knowing he'd seen through her little lie, she didn't fluster. Keeping her composure, she said, "Mr. Jason, thank you for what you did before."
He said nothing. His fingertips continued to idly stroke the tiny tear-mole at her eye's corner.
Kristen held still, breathing lightly, then carefully ventured, "I'm in some trouble right now. I'd like to ask for your help."
Finn wanted her to beg him; she refused. Not only would she not go to Finn—she would ask Finn's best friend instead.
Jason didn't ask what help she wanted. He asked, "Investment requires a return. What can you offer?"
Kristen was quiet for a moment. Softly, she said, "If you're willing to help, Mr. Jason, I'll repay you with my utmost—serve and follow without complaint."
A low, cool laugh rolled from his throat. He withdrew his hand and lounged back into the sofa, smoking at his leisure.
Just as Kristen's nerves began to drum, he spoke slowly: "I don't need a servant."
Her heart sank. Staring at his flawless profile, she lost her better judgment and blurted, "Do you need someone to keep your bed warm?"
The words no sooner landed than the air in the room turned sultry.
Kristen bit her tongue in secret. She'd said it; being coy now would be worse. She sat straight, braced, and waited for his answer.
In the dim light, something like a spark flickered through Jason's deep, cold eyes. He took a long drag, lifted his chin, and let the smoke roll thin from his lips, the hint of a smile there.
"Does Finn know?"
Kristen's nails bit into her palm. Her face didn't so much as twitch. "We broke up."
Knock, knock.
The door opened, and Leon stepped in. "Mr. Jin, your meeting starts in thirty minutes. It's time to leave."
His gaze skimmed the slim figure on the sofa and just as quickly slid away.
Jason crushed out his cigarette on the stone tabletop, lifted the suit jacket beside him, and stood to put it on.
The edge of the jacket brushed Kristen's cheek—light, but sharp enough to make her lashes tremble. A spike of humiliation surged hot behind her eyes.
Jason finished dressing and walked out. Leon followed. Silence fell over the room like a shut tomb.
Kristen's clenched fists loosened all at once. A wry curve pulled at her lips.
So she'd been self-deluded after all.
On the wedding day, she'd gotten into his car. From the way he'd acted, she'd thought maybe—
She picked up the glass in front of her and tossed back the drink in one go. The liquid burned cold down her throat into her stomach. She shivered.
The bottle was still more than half full. She didn't hesitate—poured another.
Glass after glass, until the bottle ran dry. Kristen hiccuped, stood, grabbed her bag, and left.
The Maybach glided steadily through traffic. In the passenger seat, Leon finished a low-voiced phone call, then glanced back at the man of cool elegance in the rear.
"Mr. Jin, the manager says Miss Liang finished your bottle of whiskey and left."
Jason lifted his lashes, eyes shadowed.
Leon wasn't sure what that meant and held his tongue.
Jason turned to the window, watching the scenery reel backward. His fingers tapped lightly against his knee.
After a long quiet, his low voice sounded in the stillness. "Have someone keep an eye on her."
Kristen took a taxi back to her apartment. By the time she stepped into the elevator, the alcohol had fully hit—her back pressed to the silver wall, head spinning, heat licking under her skin like flame.
Ding. The doors opened. Kristen steadied herself along the wall, the phone rang, and she answered as she paused to lean there.
She lifted her head—and saw the tall, straight figure waiting at her door.
(End of Chapter)
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