Chapter 19
The morning light poured through the curtains like gold dust, but Lin Yue couldn't feel its warmth. The mansion was too quiet—eerily quiet. Even the servants' usual chatter had thinned to whispers. Something was off.
She sat by the window, clutching a cup of tea that had long gone cold. Down in the courtyard, Mo Chen's men were gathered in tight formation, each armed and focused. Their faces were unreadable, and their movements too synchronized to be casual.
Lin Yue's fingers tightened around the porcelain. What kind of world have I stepped into?
The night before, Mo Chen hadn't come to their room. She'd waited, watching the clock tick past midnight. Only when she heard his car pull in at dawn did she drift into a restless sleep filled with shadowy faces and crimson eyes.
Now he was downstairs, talking to someone in a sharp black suit. From her vantage point, she caught only fragments of their conversation—words like "shipment," "leak," and "dead." The chill that ran down her spine was sharper than winter air.
When he finally came upstairs, he didn't notice her at first. His jaw was set, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, revealing a faint scar along his collarbone. The tension in his shoulders was almost tangible.
"You didn't sleep," he said without looking up. His tone wasn't a question.
"I couldn't," she replied softly. "It's hard to sleep when the house feels like a war zone."
That made him pause. For a moment, the steel in his eyes softened. He turned to face her. "You're safe here. That's all that matters."
"Safe?" she repeated bitterly. "There are armed men in the courtyard, Mo Chen. Someone followed me when I went to the garden yesterday. And last night, you came home with blood on your sleeve. Tell me, what are you hiding from me?"
His silence was louder than any confession.
Lin Yue rose from her seat and crossed the room, her voice trembling but firm. "I know you're involved in something dangerous. I've heard the whispers. 'The Dragon of the Underworld,' they call you." Her words were barely a whisper. "Is it true?"
Mo Chen's eyes flashed. "You shouldn't repeat that name."
"Then make me understand!" she cried. "You married me, dragged me into your life, and now I'm surrounded by fear and secrets. I deserve to know the truth."
He exhaled, stepping closer until their breaths mingled. His voice dropped low—velvet over steel. "The truth will only hurt you, Yue. I built my empire on blood. And now that you're part of it, I have to protect you from what I've done."
She swallowed hard. "Protect me, or control me?"
The question hung heavy between them. His expression flickered—pain, guilt, something almost tender. "Both," he admitted.
For the first time, Lin Yue saw the man behind the mask—the boy who'd lost his innocence to survive, the warrior who'd learned that love could be a weakness. And yet… in his eyes, she also saw longing.
She took a step back, her voice trembling. "You think I can't handle the truth, but I'd rather face your darkness than be blinded by lies."
He stared at her for a long moment, then turned toward the door. "Then be careful what you wish for," he said quietly. "Once you step into my world, there's no going back."
The door closed behind him, and the silence felt suffocating.
Lin Yue sank onto the bed, clutching the bedsheet like an anchor. For the first time, she realized that the enemy wasn't outside—it was the man she'd fallen in love with.
But deep down, a dangerous thought whispered:
If he truly is the Dragon, then maybe I'll have to become his flame.