Can't afford to pay for the takeout? Stunning CEO: Then pay with your body!

The motion-sensor light in the entryway turned on and off.

Linda remained in the position of pushing the door open, like a stone sculpture gazed upon by Medusa.

The betting agreement in her hand, worth a fortune, was now making a soft rustling sound as her fingertips trembled.

It was even more piercing than the cicadas chirping outside the window.

Looking ahead.

The "Bamboo Leaf Green" who could send chills down the spine of her opponents with just a glance at the negotiating table, and the Nie Qingcheng who struck fear into the hearts of the Jinghai business community.

He is barefoot at the moment.

The silk robe hung loosely on her body, and she looked like a pool of melted spring water, clinging bonelessly to a man's back.

And that man.

Wearing an apron.

He was holding a soup spoon.

This extremely impactful scene brutally shattered Linda's entire understanding of "superior-subordinate relationships," "sugar daddies," and "high society."

This is hardly the case of a female billionaire keeping a gigolo.

This is clearly a vixen begging the imperial chef for food!

Nie Qingcheng did not let go.

She didn't even bother to straighten the collar that had slipped down to her shoulder.

She merely tilted her head slightly, her chin still resting on Zhang Yan's shoulder, her narrow eyes half-closed, glancing towards the doorway.

His gaze was languid.

But it carried a hint of displeasure at being disturbed, and... blatant boasting.

"Linda."

Her voice was hoarse, still drowsy, but to Linda it sounded like a thunderclap.

"Have you seen enough?"

Nie Qingcheng's lips curled into a playful smile as she lightly circled the straps of Zhang Yan's apron with her fingertips.

"This kind of internal benefit is not included in your salary."

Linda's throat tightened, and she couldn't utter a single word.

She wanted to apologize, to turn around, to escape this high-pressure zone filled with pink waste.

But my legs felt like they were filled with lead.

Just then.

Zhang Yan, who had been facing away from her, moved.

He seemed to completely disregard the living person at the door and didn't take Nie Qingcheng's teasing seriously.

"The fire is off."

Zhang Yan reached out and gently patted the pair of fair wrists that were wrapped around his waist.

The movements were casual.

It's like soothing a mischievous cat.

Go wash up.

His tone was flat, leaving no room for discussion; it was all commands.

Linda's pupils contracted sharply.

Is he crazy?

How dare you speak to Nie Qingcheng like that?

However, what happened the next second completely shattered Linda's worldview.

That arrogant queen actually obediently let go.

"oh."

Nie Qingcheng pursed her lips and reluctantly straightened up.

She walked barefoot on the floor, glancing at Linda casually as she passed the entryway.

There was no blame in his eyes.

There's only one kind of disdain: "You're so superfluous."

Until the sound of running water came from the bathroom.

Linda snapped back to reality; the back of her shirt was already soaked through, sticking stickily to her skin.

She hurriedly placed the documents on the shoe cabinet and bowed deeply to the figure in the kitchen who was serving porridge.

escape.

We must escape immediately.

She feared that if she stayed any longer, she would be silenced.

We rushed out of the gates of Genting Manor and got into the car.

Linda frantically started the car, and only dared to step on the brakes after driving two kilometers.

My heart was still pounding wildly inside my chest.

She trembled as she pulled out her phone and opened the encrypted group that only the core members of the group were in.

My finger hovered above the screen, and I hesitated for three seconds.

Enter:

Alert lifted.

[President Nie has been completely controlled.]

[P.S.: The future son-in-law's cooking is excellent; it's recommended to upgrade the company cafeteria's standards.]

……

Jinghai City, Old Town.

This is a sewer where the sun never shines.

The basement of the "Nightfall" bar was so stuffy it made you want to vomit.

The smell of cheap tobacco, moldy beer, and the musty odor of something that has never seen the light of day mixed together.

In the corner booth.

Zhao Yu slumped on the sofa, his tie taut and twisted, pressing against his bloodshot neck.

The table was covered with empty wine bottles.

The phone screen was shattered into a spiderweb pattern, yet it stubbornly kept lighting up.

That was a pinned post on the Jiangda Forum.

In the photo, Zhang Yan sits at the piano, his profile cool and radiant.

Every like, every comment praising the "male god," was like a slap in the face to Zhao Yu.

Burning pain.

"hehe……"

Zhao Yu grabbed a bottle of leftover wine, tilted his head back and gulped it down. The wine dripped down his chin and into his collar, icy cold.

Yesterday, he was the darling of everyone, Zhao Gongzi.

Today, I am like a stray dog.

His father's phone call was still echoing in his mind—bankruptcy, debt, liquidation.

all of these.

It's all because of that bedbug who delivers takeout!

And then there's that arrogant Nie Qingcheng!

"Splash!"

The bottle fell to the ground, shards flying everywhere.

A rough, large hand pressed down on the tabletop, which was covered in shards of glass.

"Young Master Zhao, you can't smash things here."

The speaker was bald, with a large gold chain around his neck and a dragon tattooed across his shoulder on his arm.

Brother Long.

This area is notorious for its people who value money over life.

Zhao Yu raised his head, his eyes bloodshot, a black vortex of madness swirling within them.

"money……"

He pulled a crumpled bank card from his pocket; it was his last bit of savings.

With a "smack," it was slammed onto the table.

"There are 500,000 here."

Brother Long raised an eyebrow, a hint of greed flashing in his triangular eyes, and reached out to take the card.

"Wait a minute."

Zhao Yu pressed down on the card, his knuckles turning white from the force.

He leaned forward, staring intently at Brother Long, his voice like grit ground from the depths of his throat.

"I want to buy something."

"What?" Brother Long grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth. "As long as Young Master Zhao can afford the price, there's nothing in Jinghai City that I can't get my hands on."

Zhao Yu's gaze fell on the broken phone screen.

It landed on Zhang Yan's long, fair hands, which danced on the black and white piano keys.

Those hands destroyed everything he had.

Those hands stole all the light.

A twisted sense of pleasure shot from the soles of his feet to the top of his head, making him tremble all over.

"hand."

Zhao Yu's lips parted, revealing a ferocious smile that was even uglier than a grimace.

"I want Zhang Yan's hand."

"Whether it's playing the piano or delivering food..."

He abruptly released his grip and pushed the bank card in front of Brother Long.

His eyes were sinister, like a venomous snake cornered.

"I want him to never be able to lift a chopstick again in his entire life!"

Brother Long's smile froze for a moment, then became even brighter and more bloodthirsty.

He picked up the bank card, put it to his lips, and blew on it.

"Young Master Zhao is magnanimous."

"Don't worry, we are professionals."

"The guys are experts at disassembling parts."

Under dim lighting.

The two shadows were cast on the mottled wall, like two evil spirits plotting to devour the light.

Only the broken phone screen remained.

Zhang Yan's fingertips continued to silently play the Croatian Rhapsody.

I don't know at all.

In the darkness, the butcher's knife has been sharpened, and the fangs have been bared.