◎Heart Aflutter◎
Huayue International. The top floor.
At night, Haizhou City was bright as day, traffic streaming along the roads. The city was still in full swing. Inside the suite, the night’s entertainment had already begun. The Omega’s voice was sweet, her body soft, each cry rising and falling like ocean waves.
The woman standing outside the suite shrugged off her black suit jacket and tossed it carelessly onto the sofa. While waiting for the occupants to finish, she stood by the window and lit a cigarette, cracking open half a window. The smoke drifted into the late-autumn night wind, the ember at the tip of her cigarette glowing red.
Soon, the sounds from inside the suite faded. A beautiful mixed-heritage Omega emerged, her features striking, with blue eyes. She wore only a dark overcoat, her slender white legs bare. What lay beneath was probably see-through. Her face showed no sign of satisfaction. She left the room in a huff.
A while later, Cheng Ran emerged in a bathrobe. She walked to the window, nose slightly wrinkled, and said casually: “Give me one.”
Zhou Yi’an flicked ash off her cigarette and said pointedly: “That was quick.”
Cheng Ran: “…”
“It’s your fault for showing up.” Cheng Ran shot her a sideways glance, went to the coffee table, grabbed the cigarette box, and lit one up.
“Not great.” Cheng Ran took a drag, her hair falling loosely over her shoulders. “It was all fake. Nothing but silicone.”
“The face was okay.” Zhou Yi’an had finished her cigarette and flicked the butt into the trash. She smirked. “You saw Xu Qingzhu and just grabbed a stand-in, right? God knows how many beds she’s been through.”
“No,” Cheng Ran said. “Just entered the trade. First time.”
Zhou Yi’an raised an eyebrow and simply smiled without a word.
“What are you doing here?” Cheng Ran asked. “Didn’t you say we wouldn’t see each other for a while?”
“My baby won’t answer my calls. I was bored, so I came to keep you company.” Zhou Yi’an’s gaze locked onto Cheng Ran. Cheng Ran pulled her bathrobe tighter and smoothed back her long hair. The cigarette butt happened to land on the ends of her hair, and the room immediately filled with the acrid smell of burning hair.
Zhou Yi’an chuckled, her voice dripping with mockery: “Look how scared you are.”
Cheng Ran hurriedly crushed out the cigarette and tossed the butt onto the coffee table. She grabbed some tissues to wipe her hair and hands, muttering: “That’s because you’re bored. That joke wasn’t funny.”
There was a probing edge to her words.
“Not funny?” Zhou Yi’an shoved one hand in her pocket. “I thought I was the queen of comedy.”
“That’s all in your head,” Cheng Ran shot back without hesitation.
Zhou Yi’an laughed lightly and shrugged. “Perhaps.”
“Alright, stop speaking in riddles. Just say what you came for.” Cheng Ran stood, poured herself a glass of red wine, and took a sip. “I’m getting tired.”
“Then let’s sleep together?” Zhou Yi’an’s lips curled.
Cheng Ran: “…”
“You think I, an Alpha, would?” Cheng Ran sneered. “Go try that with Liang Shi. I’m not playing.”
“Being a pillow princess isn’t bad either. Don’t want to try?” Zhou Yi’an wore a black blouse today, two buttons undone, revealing her elegant collarbones. She wore a chic collarbone-length cut in dark tea-brown, perfectly framing her collarbones, with a silver star-pendant necklace. Her blouse sleeves were rolled up halfway, revealing a blue-green crescent moon tattoo on her arm.
In all fairness, she was quite beautiful. Sleeping with her would probably be a unique experience. But…
Cheng Ran smirked. “If you’re willing to be the pillow princess, I might consider it.”
“Really?” Zhou Yi’an leaned in suddenly, her smile sinister. “Then let’s try.”
Cheng Ran’s gaze wavered. She couldn’t tell if Zhou Yi’an was serious. As a dissolute Alpha, she’d slept with at least a hundred women. But they were all Omegas or Betas. Beta bodies weren’t as soft as Omegas, so she preferred Omegas. She’d never tried an Alpha, though. Mainly because two Alphas sleeping together could make the pillow princess sick. Cheng Ran liked it wild, but wild enough to kill her? Not worth it.
In the room, all was silent. A few seconds later, Cheng Ran smiled and pushed Zhou Yi’an away. “Stop joking. I might take you seriously.”
Zhou Yi’an sat down with a laugh and grabbed another cigarette. “Just kidding.” Her voice was languid and husky, but with a shadowy undertone. “I still prefer my baby.”
Cheng Ran sat down too. “Tell me. What are you here for?”
Zhou Yi’an looked over sideways and exhaled a cloud of smoke. Through the haze, she smiled: “I didn’t see this coming. You actually held back.”
“What do you mean?” Cheng Ran asked.
Zhou Yi’an’s voice went flat. “Why didn’t you sleep with Xu Qingzhu? Or let someone else do it? I told you I wanted to see the video.”
Cheng Ran inexplicably shivered. She tossed her hair. “What’s the point? All you want is Liang Shi anyway.”
“But I like watching my baby’s heart break.” Zhou Yi’an pressed her tongue against her teeth and clicked it. “Especially when she breaks so hard she comes crying to beg me. That’s when I’m really interested.”
Cheng Ran said nothing.
“Xu Qingzhu has PTSD,” Cheng Ran said. “If someone dies, it’ll be a mess to clean up.”
Zhou Yi’an shot her a glance. Cheng Ran lowered her head, avoiding eye contact.
“Didn’t I say I’d handle it? You just need to do what I told you.” Zhou Yi’an’s voice grew icier. “If you can’t even manage this much, how can we work together? Or have you gone soft?”
Zhou Yi’an’s finger suddenly hooked under Cheng Ran’s chin. “You’d rather come back here and sleep with a plastic replica than take Haizhou’s top Omega. You really are devoted to my baby, aren’t you?”
Cheng Ran was forced to meet her gaze. In those eyes, she saw not a trace of warmth. Only cold murderous intent.
“Wrong word.” Cheng Ran pulled free of her grip. “Liang Shi and I are done. I told you, I don’t want anyone dying.”
“This place isn’t clean either. When you people lose yourselves, is there anything you haven’t done?” Zhou Yi’an smiled, but the warmth didn’t reach her eyes. “I can’t keep working with you like this.”
“Then don’t,” Cheng Ran said. “This time is the last.”
Cheng Ran didn’t want to keep working together either. She hated Zhou Yi’an’s condescending attitude.
“Is this really the end?” Zhou Yi’an glanced over. “Xu Qingzhu is perfectly fine, and you practically handed her to my baby on a silver platter. What do you think they’ll do tonight?”
Cheng Ran said nothing.
“Cheng Ran.” Zhou Yi’an stood and picked up her suit jacket. “Don’t show mercy again.”
Cheng Ran clenched her fists. “I told you, I’m done working with you.”
“Huaguang Group is currently bidding for the Bay Bridge construction rights. How important do you think that is to your father?” Zhou Yi’an smiled. “Some things don’t work just because you say so. I’m generous. This time, I forgive you. But next time, if you mess up, I’ll tie you up, you know?”
A chill ran down Cheng Ran’s spine. She felt like she was partnering with a venomous snake. A snake that could turn and bite her at any moment.
Even after Zhou Yi’an left, Cheng Ran couldn’t snap out of it. After a long while, she drained her glass and hurled it to the ground. The glass shattered on impact, sending shards everywhere.
Fuck. Zhou Yi’an was a fucking psychopath.
The early autumn night wind carried a chill. Liang Shi hurried downstairs carrying Xu Qingzhu. Liang Shi’s jacket was draped over her. Normally a rather tall woman, Xu Qingzhu looked tiny curled up in Liang Shi’s arms, but her hands were restless, drifting from her stomach to her chest. Even through the fabric, the softness was palpable.
Several times, Liang Shi nearly let out a stifled gasp. Fortunately, the jacket concealed what was happening, keeping the motions from being too blatant. Xu Qingya trailed behind the whole way. As they descended, she said: “Sister Xuning hasn’t come down yet.”
“Let’s get your sister to the hospital first,” Liang Shi said. “We can’t worry about that now. Zhao Xuning is a doctor; she can take care of herself.”
Xu Qingya opened the car door while Liang Shi placed Xu Qingzhu in the back seat. But Xu Qingzhu clung to her arm, refusing to let go, as if touching the one thing that could cool the fire inside her. Her boneless, delicate hand rested on Liang Shi’s wrist, gently caressing, yet without any deliberate tease. It was pure instinct. Not meant to be seductive, but more seductive than any attempt could be.
Liang Shi felt an unnameable heat surging from her lower abdomen, her entire body tingling and going numb, from her wrist all the way to her toes. She couldn’t help licking her lips and whispered gently: “Zhu, be good. Let go.”
Her voice was warm, trying to stay composed. But if you listened closely, you could hear the tremble at the end. Her body’s instincts were beyond her control. But she knew that while Xu Qingzhu wasn’t lucid, she herself still was. Taking advantage of Xu Qingzhu in this state would be utterly shameless. Liang Shi considered herself, at best, a decent person.
But instead of letting go, Xu Qingzhu’s fingers trailed upward from her wrist to her forearm, gently pinching the soft flesh there. There wasn’t much to pinch, but somehow the spot she touched sent an itch skittering through Liang Shi. Not just that patch of skin, but her entire body. That tingly, numbing kind of itch.
Liang Shi suspected Xu Qingzhu’s hands were laced with sorcery. She took a deep breath and said gently: “Zhu, I’m taking you to the hospital. Let go first, okay?”
“No…” Xu Qingzhu frowned like a child. “No hospital.”
She’d drunk too much, then, with the scent blocker failing, accidentally ingested an aphrodisiac. Her current state was far from ideal. The fact that she hadn’t lost control publicly was already remarkable. Though even now, her legs kept rubbing together. On the way here, she’d even guided Liang Shi’s hand downward. Liang Shi had nearly dropped her in shock.
Liang Shi was miserable inside but could only keep soothing her: “Then we won’t go. I’ll take you home instead, okay? You’ll feel better after some sleep.”
Xu Qingzhu suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth and gagged.
“Careful, she’s going to throw up,” Xu Qingya said urgently.
Liang Shi quickly moved aside to give her room, but the fresh air seemed to help. Xu Qingzhu looked slightly better. She shook her head, looking pitiful and wronged.
For some reason, Liang Shi thought of the cat she used to have. It wasn’t really her cat, technically. She’d found it on the way back to her hotel after a late shoot. It had been raining hard that day. The cat was huddled in a small roadside shelter, curled tight against the howling wind, endlessly licking its fur. Liang Shi’s heart softened, and she took it back with her. It kept her company for a while. In those lonely years, the cat had briefly healed her. Maybe she just didn’t have the fate for small creatures. Less than a year later, it passed away.
