Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
At the company annual meeting, amidst the clinking of glasses and the mingling of guests, models glided through the crowd.
Ye Minglang stood out with his clear gaze, engaging in polite toasts. Each time he took a sip, he would unconsciously press his lips together. He abstained from smoking and drinking, and kept his distance from women. Such a good man, if he were to marry, would surely return home on time every night to savor the delicious soup his wife had carefully prepared.
Later, when I saw Song Moting, I casually mentioned my desire to get married. His hand resting on my waist paused for a moment.
"Who is the lucky one?"
"No comment."
He gripped my chin tightly, as if he intended to crush my bones. After a moment, he narrowed his eyes and coldly said, "Very well. The African branch is in need of a project manager. Jiang Jinqing, does this prince charming you’re looking for really want to give up everything for you?"
It was akin to exile. I didn’t mind it much, but what about Ye Minglang? He had worked hard to reach his current position; why should he sacrifice everything for me? I smiled and chose not to say more.
Song Moting let out a soft snort, clearly pleased with my silence. That night, he was particularly rough. I bit down hard on his shoulder, leaving several bloodied marks.
A few days later, he visited me in the middle of the night and casually mentioned while sipping coffee, "Ye Minglang is getting engaged to Chen Yan's cousin."
He pretended to be indifferent, but his sharp gaze was fixed on me as if trying to catch some hint from my expression. I met his gaze directly and replied nonchalantly, "What a match made in heaven! I'll go congratulate the happy couple tomorrow."
He seemed uninterested in my reaction and set down his coffee cup to leave. I tightened my robe and called out to him.
"Wait a minute. You came all this way just to tell me this? You must have developed feelings for me."
He scoffed coldly and turned away. "Jiang Jinqing, you really know how to dream."
This was the same response I received when I last questioned Song Moting about his feelings for me.
I was still young at that time. After marrying into a wealthy family with my mother, she stirred up quite a commotion in high society, causing the children in that circle to avoid me like the plague. Among them, the most ruthless was Song Moting. He arrived in luxury cars and wore expensive watches, surrounded by socialites and rich second-generation heirs, exuding an air of superiority.
One day, I overheard a gossiping aunt say that if a boy constantly found various reasons to bother a girl, it was often a sign of a secret crush. So, it turned out that Song Moting liked me.
When he heard this, he laughed uncontrollably. He usually bullied me by manipulating others while watching from the sidelines. But that day, he was furious and walked straight towards me, wanting to make it clear that he would never like me, not even in the next life.
When the doctor at the Private Clinic informed me that I was pregnant, his face turned pale with fear, as if he were about to face some calamity. I transferred him a considerable hush money.
When I went to find Song Moting in his office, there was an exquisite fruit platter on his desk, likely prepared by some socialite. It was laid on purple velvet cloth, looking particularly luxurious. Without hesitation, I took a piece.
Song Moting glanced at me coldly and asked, "What are you here for?"
I had to admit that the things from the President's Office were indeed different; this fruit was much sweeter than what I had in my apartment. I leisurely savored another piece before slowly replying, "I came to catch up with Yingying's father."
Song Moting asked expressionlessly, "Who is Yingying?"
No one answered that question. Sitting on the edge of his desk and swinging my legs, I asked him, "Does this name sound nice? I just came up with it."
Comment 0 Comment Count