Chapter 38

Scarlett POV

"Might not." These words floated lightly from his mouth, like a thorn, piercing deep into my heart.

I raised my head, looking directly into his eyes, those deep blue orbs that seemed capable of devouring everything.

I clenched my teeth, silently vowing that I would make him take back this "might not" with his own mouth!

I slowly raised my hand, gently cupping his hand.

His skin was warm, his fingers long and powerful. My fingers lightly caressed his palm, feeling the roughness of his skin.

The next second, I parted my lips and took his index finger into my mouth, an action so bold it was nothing like Scarlett.

My usual restraint and composure seemed to have been burned away by something.

My tongue gently licked the tip of his finger, with a hint of exploration and a touch of defiance.

I felt Alexander's body stiffen slightly, his eyes flashing with surprise, quickly replaced by something deeper.

Like the excitement of a hunter discovering prey, or a flame being ignited.

"You're playing with fire," he warned, his voice hoarse.

I didn't answer, but boldly moved closer to him, my arms encircling his neck, offering myself to him.

"Mr. Grey," I whispered, my voice carrying bold seduction, "do you dare say... you don't enjoy it when we make love?"

The moment I said these words, I felt a current of shame and excitement intertwining throughout my body.

But the desire in Alexander's eyes instantly deepened, his hand covering my waist with such force it would almost leave marks.

This feeling of being controlled both terrified and fascinated me.

"Enjoy..." He chuckled lightly, "but I don't like being controlled by women."

Just then, a harsh ringtone broke the intimate atmosphere in the room.

I reached for the phone on the bedside table, my heartbeat stopping for a moment when I saw the name on the screen. A chill rose from my spine, instantly dispersing all passion—Richard Grey.

Looking back, I saw Alexander had already stood up and was walking toward the bathroom.

"I'm going to take a shower," he said without turning back.

Ignoring him, I stared at the phone screen as if it contained some monstrous flood.

Would Tom have already told Richard about what happened at the Blair family dinner last night?

Taking a deep breath, my trembling finger finally pressed the answer button.

"Did I disturb your rest?" Richard's voice on the phone was gentle and considerate, but just hearing his voice made me feel like I was facing a venomous snake, temporarily disguised as harmless.

"Mmm." I tried to make my voice sound natural, but my palms were still sweating nervously.

"My fault, calling so early. You work hard enough as it is, I should let you rest more."

His apology sounded so sincere that I became even more alarmed. Richard never wasted effort; calling me right after returning to the country couldn't be that simple.

"Mr. Grey, it's fine. Is there something you need from me?" My voice was cautious.

Just then, I heard the sound of the bathroom door opening.

Turning around, I saw steam billowing out from the bathroom like clouds. Alexander walked out bare-chested, with only a towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets sliding down his perfect muscle lines.

My gaze was involuntarily drawn to him, then fixed on the hideous scar on his right leg.

That was a wound from his service in Afghanistan, and every time I saw it, a wave of complex emotions would rise within me—sympathy for what he had endured, yet disgust for him as a person.

Then he walked over to the sofa and sat down, his heated gaze fixed directly on me, his posture so casual it bordered on defiance.

My eyes inadvertently drifted downward, and when I saw the obvious bulge beneath his towel, a wave of heat instantly shot up my spine.

I stared at him with wide eyes, shocked, unable to believe he would so shamelessly display his desire.

Quickly averting my gaze, I clutched my phone tightly and walked toward the balcony in near panic, then forcefully shut the glass door behind me.

Your performance at the Blair family dinner tonight..." Hearing Richard mention the Blair banquet, my heart suddenly tightened.

"Tom said you and Camila got along very well." His words took a turn, and I finally let go of my anxiety.

"Miss Foster is really nice. Although it was our first meeting, we got along exceptionally well."

I hurriedly affirmed, relieved that the topic hadn't developed in the direction I feared.

"Indeed, the Foster family still has considerable influence in Silverlight City. Being friends with her will benefit you."

Just as I was focused on dealing with Richard, the balcony door was suddenly pushed open.

I saw my favorite cashmere shawl hanging loosely on Alexander's shoulders, the soft light brown material forming a strange contrast with his naked, muscular body.

He leisurely leaned against the balcony railing not far from me and lit a cigar.

I stared at him with widened eyes, my heart nearly leaping out of my chest, frantically gesturing for him to go back inside.

If any of Richard's people who might be monitoring me discovered Alexander in my apartment, and in such an intimate state, the consequences would be unimaginable.

"At four in the morning, who would see me?" he said softly, his eyes full of amusement.

I quickly glanced around, and at that moment, a street cleaner who was sweeping the road happened to look up, meeting our gaze directly.

I immediately pushed Alexander back inside in a panic.

"Scarlett, is there someone else with you?" Richard's voice carried obvious suspicion.

"It's the neighbors," I hastily fabricated a lie, my voice trembling slightly, praying he couldn't detect my panic. "The neighbors are arguing, making quite a commotion."

"Mr. Grey, is there anything else?"

I tried to change the subject. Meanwhile, my eyes were fixed on Alexander's figure, afraid he might make another sound or return to the balcony.

But he ignored my anxiety, walking back and forth in the living room like an elegant big cat on patrol.

"Nothing major. I've finished dealing with the matters in Colombia, just got off the plane, and I'll be at your place in about ten minutes."

Hearing that Richard was about to arrive, I froze in place, even forgetting to breathe.

Cold sweat quickly seeped from my back, and I hurriedly used both hands to hold the phone, afraid of dropping it.

"What did you say?" I asked in disbelief.

"Is it inconvenient for me to come see you now?" Richard asked on the other end of the phone, his voice still calm, but this calmness was like an undercurrent beneath the sea surface, dangerous and unpredictable.

"Not at all." My throat was dry as I forced myself to stay calm.

"I'm just surprised... If I had known you were returning to the country, I should have gone to the airport to meet you."

"No need, how could I let you go to such trouble? During this time I've been away, I couldn't help with your father's issues. Are you blaming me in your heart?"

Hearing him mention Adam, I felt a sense of suffocation. Adam's current treatment costs relied entirely on Richard's help, and he was also the creditor for half of the Smith family's debts.

These were the main reasons I couldn't break free from him; they were like invisible chains binding me, and whenever I tried to break free, they would mercilessly tighten, suffocating me.

"No, you've helped me more than enough. I don't know how I could ever repay you." My tone was so submissive, only I knew it was filled with struggle and helplessness.

While talking with Richard, I kept signaling with my eyes for Alexander to leave quickly.

But he showed complete indifference, even leisurely beginning to dress, as if enjoying my predicament.

I looked at him again with pleading eyes, fear mixed with a hint of indescribable anger.

Time was ticking away second by second, and Richard's "ten minutes" were about to arrive.

My heart beat faster and faster, almost bursting out of my chest.

After hanging up the phone, I walked directly to Alexander and asked urgently, "Mr. Grey, when exactly are you planning to leave?"