Chapter 21: What’s Under the Skirt?
The private jet cabin was very quiet. Samuel Esposito leaned against the large leather seat and lit up his phone screen. Before him was a simple chat interface.
The recipient’s name was Stellina.
: 【I found a very beautiful seaside villa. You can see the blue-green sea from here.】
: [Photo]
: 【I’ll be seeing you soon.】
The message spun for a moment and showed as successfully sent, disappearing into the void like the previous messages.
Samuel twitched the corner of his mouth, squeezing out an expression that could hardly be called a smile, and drained the clear, golden Limoncello in his glass. Samuel swirled the empty glass, casting his gaze out the window at the churning sea of clouds, but his thoughts were pulled back to that damp, painful, yet sweet memory.
His first meeting with Stellina was when he had just turned eighteen. Back then, he was young and aggressive. He had been ambushed, kidnapped, and thrown into a deserted underground warehouse.
Fear and anger were extinguished before they could even flare up because Samuel found he wasn’t alone.
In a corner of the warehouse, a beauty with an Eastern face was locked in metal handcuffs.
“She” was curled up in the shadows, her pitch-black, slightly curly long hair a bit messy. A few strands clung to her pale cheeks, while the rest was tied behind her head with a red ribbon, strangely looking not at all bedraggled but adding a bit of a shattered feel.
That face was as perfect as if exquisitely carved, and a pair of green eyes were like emeralds in the water, carrying a startled mist.
“She” was wearing a cotton, deep blue square-collar dress. Above the neckline, the sharp lines of the collarbones rose and fell slightly with her breathing.
“Don’t come over.”
Samuel rubbed his aching neck, trying to stand up. The movement tugged at the handcuffs on his wrist, the chain clattering. The person on the other end was yanked forward, their palm pressing heavily against the rough concrete floor.
“She” gave a soft gasp, her delicate brows furrowing.
“Don’t be afraid,” his voice at the time must have sounded stupid, being bedraggled himself… yet trying to show off his poise. “I’ve had response training. I’ll get you out.”
That “mixed-race beauty” seemed slightly comforted by his words. The gaze toward him flickered, and long eyelashes were wetly clumped together as she tried to put on a stern face toward the strange, robust Alpha, like a precious flower broken by a rainstorm. No Alpha could resist this combination of fragility and stubbornness.
She must have secretly cried before I woke up, Samuel had thought at the time.
He ghosted away from the surrounding danger and slowly moved closer, catching a very faint scent from her hair that was out of place in this damp, dark environment.
“I’m Samuel. What’s your name?”
“…Stellina.”
The voice was unexpectedly on the neutral side, with a hint of raspiness, but it was pleasant enough.
“I’m probably caught up in my family’s situation. What about you?”
Stellina moved her handcuffed arm with difficulty. When she looked up again, the wariness in her eyes had lessened, replaced by a bit of embarrassment.
Only then did Samuel notice that her legs seemed to have difficulty moving, and he quickly reached out to help her up.
The feelings generated by the bridge suspension effect grew wildly… In the face of absolute hardship and close contact, her “fragility” highlighted his own strength. Samuel felt omnipotent by her side.
Stellina claimed she was just an ordinary office worker who was kidnapped on her way home from work.
Although the weapons on Samuel had been searched and taken away, the metal decorations on his suit were still there—
Using wire he pried from an old bracket, he laboriously pried open the heavy top door, his arm being sliced by a sharp edge. Just as he was about to push the door, Stellina grabbed his hand.
He thought the blood from his wound had scared her and gestured dismissively, saying it was fine.
“The wound is too deep; the bleeding won’t stop.” Stellina’s tone was unusually calm as she bit off a piece of the lining from her skirt and untied the red hair ribbon, neatly performing a simple pressure dressing for him.
—She was young but calm. Samuel even began planning how to take her under his wing after escaping; this girl deserved to be plucked and cherished by him.
The escape process was short and exciting. He was almost half-holding her, feeling the unexpected warmth of the body in his arms. His heart beat like a drum, and he couldn’t tell if it was nervousness from the dangerous environment or a heartbeat from the close contact. Her breath occasionally brushed past his neck; it was a bit itchy, like a feather scratching his heart.
They were in a small wooden hut deep in the forest. Seeing the light of the exit just ahead, the happiness of escaping and “saving the beauty” almost overwhelmed him.
Samuel stopped and turned to say something to her—
Unexpectedly, the world spun.
A sharp, violent, dull pain came from the back of his neck, faster than he could react.
He fell heavily onto the grass, struggling to lift his head.
The sight that met his eyes left him stunned—the pitch-black curly hair he had dreamed of stroking gently not long ago was roughly pulled off, revealing a head of neat short hair.
The emerald green eyes that were misty with water just a moment ago were now cold and sharp, looking down at him without emotion.
Survival instinct made him shudder. It was the fear of being targeted by a predator and facing the shadow of death.
The “beauty” who had received all his tenderness and protective desire for the past few hours spoke with a purely masculine, cool voice, saying into a micro-transmitter with disgust:
“…Are you an idiot?”
As he talked, he unceremoniously lifted that bothersome long skirt.
The white legs Samuel had expected did not appear—under the skirt were tactical shorts convenient for movement and a pair of sturdy mid-calf boots, showing only the knees.
—Even more eye-catching was the holster strapped to the man’s thigh.
This was the true reason for his “difficulty moving”—hidden under the skirt were the disassembled parts of a heavy sniper rifle.
The adrenaline rush allowed Samuel to maintain a brief period of clarity. He watched as Jiang Zhaosheng approached with a frown, squatting down with a hint of distress:
“Truly durable.”
A wet cloth covered his nose and mouth. Only then did Samuel realize… they were on the same side.
The cold, magnificent green eyes he saw before losing consciousness became an irreplaceable presence in Samuel’s heart.
After returning home, he used the power of his family and his entire network to dig up everything about “Stellina” at any cost.
Jiang Zhaosheng didn’t like being “hunted,” so Samuel abandoned his identity as an heir and stayed by his side in the name of a “friend.”
To be precise, as a dog.
Because no relationship between friends was more unequal than theirs. He would send extremely expensive gifts: all kinds of beautiful and practical knives, advanced electronic equipment, and even well-equipped safe houses…
But when Jiang Zhaosheng vanished from the face of the earth, he didn’t even have the intention of informing him.
The aftertaste of the memory became strange and sour, like spoiled dessert.
Samuel took a deep breath and poured another glass of wine, but he didn’t drink it, only looking at the small bubbles on the glass wall.
The staff in the cabin approached him, whispering that the plane was about to land.
Samuel took a waterproof folder from the inner pocket of his suit. He opened it carefully. Inside was not some confidential document, but a photo that was obviously a candid shot.
The man in the photo wore a simple academic-style sweater. His profile was cold, and he had a pair of thin-framed glasses on his nose, looking aloof and beautiful.
Those blue-green eyes, lowered and slightly covered by long eyelashes, haunted Samuel’s dreams.
His Stellina. Samuel once thought that as long as he was patient enough, obedient enough, and useful enough, he would one day be able to warm that piece of ice and make his shadow reflected in those heartless eyes…
He was willing to be the most loyal dog at his feet, offering everything.
But what was the result?
The result was being discarded like a worn-out rag, without a trace of lingering affection.
When a loyal dog is heartlessly abandoned by its master, it gets hungry too. He silently put the photo away.
He would no longer wag his tail and beg for mercy.
“Achoo!”
Jiang Zhaosheng took off his glasses and lightly pressed the bridge of his nose. His vision was blurred by sudden tears, and his gaze was a bit out of focus.
“I told you to wear more, but you didn’t listen. Now you have a cold, right?”
On the other end of the phone, Jiang Wan’s nagging voice showed concern.
“Mhm, I know.”
Jiang Zhaosheng replied, his voice carrying a bit of a nasal tone, sounding quite well-behaved.
He was about to say more when Jiang Wan suddenly paused, her tone hesitant:
“Wait… what was that sound on your end? You’re not home alone?”
“Oh, no.”
Jiang Zhaosheng’s expression didn’t change. Without giving the other party time to continue questioning, he turned and scooped up a soft, fluffy little thing from the carpet next to him, holding it steadily before the camera.
A beautiful Ragdoll cat was curiously blinking its clear blue eyes and gave a soft “meow.”
“I forgot to tell you,” he curled his finger and lightly scratched the kitten’s chin, his tone as gentle as if introducing a family member, “I just got it. It’s bothering me right now.”
After hearing his daughter nag for several more sentences, Jiang Zhaosheng simply followed her lead, but spoke in the tone of an old father, until Jiang Wan on the other end finally got annoyed. A palm came over to huddle over the lens, and her voice came through blurred:
“…You’re so annoying! Fine, fine, I’m hanging up.”
Jiang Zhaosheng chuckled. One hand stroked the soft fur of the cat’s head while the other was raised, mimicking a lucky cat toward the dark screen, waving lightly.
“Bye-bye.”
The notification sound for the end of the call rang.
Almost at the same time, the remaining smile on his face vanished completely, making him look like a different person from the gentle one in the video call.
Jiang Zhaosheng’s long legs, wearing soft lounge pants, stretched out casually and kicked the other person’s knee neither lightly nor heavily.
“Just now…” he spoke with a dangerous tone, “did you make that noise on purpose?”
On the wooden floor of the bedroom, Lin Xuan was kneeling. When touched, his Adam’s apple rolled, and he gave a heavy gasp, looking at him expectantly.
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