A Twisted Love Affair-Chapter 228: Are you with him now (6)_1

Shen Jing realized she was going the wrong way. The elevator here was reserved exclusively for politicians, accessed via a special passageway protected by three security doors and stringent security measures.

She had unwittingly stumbled into an unfamiliar area, even encountering security guards armed with submachine guns. One guard’s gaze flickered, as if he recognized something about her, and he earnestly suggested she turn back, explaining that the other elevators were further down.

Fine.

She turned, only to collide unexpectedly with a cold, hard body that felt like a wall. Her face pressed against the thick, textured fabric of a black suit, her vision completely obscured by a looming shadow.

Her petite frame was utterly trapped, a storm of emotions rendering her speechless.

The man simply stared down at her, his expression detached. "In a hurry to see your lover?"

She rubbed her forehead, avoiding his gaze. "So what if I am?"

"So, you’ve already moved on and fallen for someone else? I’ve been with him for a while now. We stay in hotels, stay up all night—that’s just how it is. Coming to the summit like it’s a vacation... What’s it to you? Are you going to interfere? Or do you want to pack me up and ship me back home like last time? Or do you just think I’m unworthy of being in your presence?"

The more she spoke, the more agitated and angry she became.

Seeing her reddened forehead, Zhou Luchen felt no flicker of pity. He grasped her waist and forcefully shoved her against the wall, trapping her between its icy surface and his own body.

"UGH—"

A searing pain shot through her back. With her waist gripped firmly in his strong hand, she felt pinned to the wall, completely at the mercy of the unattainable CEO before her. She felt crushed, squeezed into the narrow space between him and the wall, their bodies pressed tightly together.

She struggled with all her might, but her tears and protests only seemed to draw him closer, their breaths mingling in the chaotic moment. Zhou Luchen’s grip on her waist tightened, sending waves of aching soreness through her lower back.

"UGH..." Her cry was softer now, more like a whimper.

Zhou Luchen scoffed, his voice laced with mockery. "Do you enjoy making a scene everywhere you go?"

Knowing she couldn’t escape, Shen Jing stubbornly pursed her lips, remaining silent.

But looking up at his overpowering presence, Shen Jing retorted defiantly, "When did I make a scene? I’m in pain!"

Zhou Luchen wasn’t one to be tender with women. Why did she bring him here? he wondered.

She deliberately raised her voice, trying to sound forceful enough to mask her vulnerability and hold back the tears threatening to fall. "Does Manhattan belong to you? Who can’t come here with a visa?"

He raised a hand, his cool fingertips brushing away the tear tracks at the corner of her eye.

He detested seeing her cry.

The way she’d spoken Qiyan’s name back at the corner... it was different. It reminded him of how she used to be in bed, when their passion ran deep. Overwhelmed, she would yield to him, her voice soft and cloying as she called him ’Uncle.’ Only then would her tone carry that same quality.

Pressed against the wall now, Shen Jing wasn’t entirely submissive, but there was also a trace of fear and wariness towards him.

Deep down, she didn’t dare provoke the volatile temper of this aristocratic young master.

At this close distance, their breaths intertwined. His voice was hoarse as he asked, "Are you really together?"

Was it her imagination, or did she detect a hint of a competitive challenge in his voice? Just a tiny hint.

She looked at him; he was looking back at her.

Beams of light cast a hazy, dreamlike aura around him. His eyes, as deep and dark as ink, were set in shadowed sockets. A chilling aloofness emanated from the depths of his pupils, a wavering, insubstantial coldness. Whenever he looked at her, his gaze always lacked warmth.

How pathetic of her, she thought, to still wonder, even now, if he cared about her at all. Shen Jing managed a faint smile. "We’ve only slept together. Does it matter to you if we’re together or not? Have I betrayed you? Have I wronged you? Does my choice of partner matter? Is the answer that important to you?"

Is it important? he asked himself again. Zhou Luchen’s fingers naturally loosened their grip on her waist. Perhaps it wasn’t that important after all.

As the pressure on her waist eased, Shen Jing looked down. The fabric of her skirt was ruthlessly crushed by his possessive grip, wrinkled beyond repair.

Look at that, she thought. These creases were a testament to his possessiveness. Silk, no less! It cost ninety thousand. One encounter with Zhou Luchen, and it was ruined. What kind of cruel force could mangle silk so badly that it could never be smoothed out?

"Do you think the answer is important?" she asked again.

Zhou Luchen lowered his gaze to her, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "It’s not important."

He withdrew his hand, thrust it casually into his trouser pocket, and turned to leave, his departure heartless.

"Really?" Shen Jing couldn’t stop herself from asking again. "Is it really not important, Zhou Luchen? If it’s not important to you, then fine. I’m not a naive young girl anymore. And I don’t subscribe to the non-marriage ideals of your circle. You have family resources, the backing of an aristocratic family, and connections that reach the highest echelons—you can play any game you want. I’m not like you."

She added, "At least now, here in New York, I’m not afraid of being tailed by vagrants. I can walk around freely, and I have someone with me. Didn’t you wish that I’d live well even after leaving you? That I’d find someone unlike you and have a good life? I think I’ve found him. When my grandmother passed away, he was the one who stayed by my side, handled everything, and even accompanied me all the way here."

Seeing Zhou Luchen suddenly halt, Shen Jing bit her lip and asked softly, "Oh, where’s the elevator? I hope Chairman Zhou can show me the way."

Zhou Luchen shot her a glance, then grabbed her wrist and, without a word of explanation, dragged her into a dark, deserted room nearby.

She cried out, shouting his name, wondering which of her words had ignited his temper.

There was no light in the small room. Outside, a bodyguard promptly closed the door and pressed the LCD panel on the doorplate, which then displayed: Please Do Not Disturb.