JENETA'S POV.
"Mr. Zhang." Zhang? Seriously? "I know, Uncle!" Uncle? You've got to be kidding me. Faye told me he was a single father.
I sighed heavily, but I forced a smile at Feifei as she sat in the car, trying to race the other children. My mind, however, was spinning.
"Shit," I muttered under my breath, all while keeping that fake smile plastered on my face. Just how clueless could I be? This was getting more awkward by the second. I sighed inwardly, frustration bubbling.
The vibration in my back pocket startled me. I pulled out my phone. It was Faye. Speak of the devil.
"Ugh, thank God you called…"
"What? Did you miss me? Don't worry, I'll be in Shanghai tomorrow," Faye replied, her tone playful.
I giggled at her response but froze as the question that had been eating at me spilled out of my mouth. "Faye. The kid… the one I'm taking care of. Who does she live with?"
"Huh? Feifei? With her uncle," she answered casually.
My eyes widened. "What? That's not what you told me! You said—" I stopped mid-sentence as Faye's earlier words echoed in my head.
A friend of mine is leaving for London to do her master's degree. Her sister's going through a nasty divorce right now, and she needs someone to look after her kid. They just need someone to help out for a while.
I gasped, realization dawning on me. She never said Jinhai was Feifei's father. I was the one who assumed. I closed my eyes for a moment, wanting to kick myself. Now, I had to apologize to him again. This cycle was never-ending.
"I never told you Jinhai was her father," Faye clarified. "Dexing Zhang is her father. He's the one going through the divorce with his wife—Lirong Liu, Jinhai's older sister. And don't you dare tell anyone. It's private. Apparently, Dexing doesn't want the divorce."
I glanced at Feifei, who was happily humming to herself. My chest tightened. How exhausting it must be for her, caught in the middle of all this. But—
"Wait," I interrupted, narrowing my eyes. "How do you know all of this?"
"Biluo Liu is a childhood friend of mine," Faye explained. "She's the youngest of the Liu siblings. Their parents died when she was eight."
As the evening fell, I parked the car in front of Jinhai's mansion. Feifei and I walked in, greeted by Jing Li, the housekeeper.
"You're back? Why don't you wash your hands? I've made dinner," Jing Li said warmly.
I smiled, letting go of Feifei's hand. She beamed up at me before rushing upstairs to her room. After dinner, Feifei had fallen asleep while I told her a few bedtime stories. I gently tucked her in, brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, and quietly stepped out of her room.
Halfway down the stairs, I bumped into Jinhai. He was heading up, his presence startling me into freezing on the spot. My breath hitched as I took an unconscious step back.
His tie hung loose around his neck, and the top three buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing the strong line of his throat and a glimpse of his chest. He looked tired, but there was an undeniable intensity in his eyes, and his presence seemed to fill the narrow staircase.
"Jenny," he said, his voice low and raspy, like a quiet thunder that made my heart drop into my stomach. "Seems like you have something to say."
I blinked rapidly, shaking my head in a panic as my mind betrayed me, replaying the image of him in the shower. My cheeks burned, and I cursed myself inwardly. His lips curved into a scoff, and the knowing smirk that followed told me he could see right through me.
"Do you?" he asked again, taking a step closer, his gaze unwavering.
I swallowed hard, searching for the words. Oh, right. I straightened myself, forcing my voice to sound steady. "I—I'm sorry for mistaking you for Feifei's father. I—Miss Liu didn't tell me anything about you. I didn't know you were her uncle."
His piercing gaze locked onto mine, and for a moment, it felt like I was caught in a snare. The way he looked at me like a predator sizing up its prey made the blood rush through my veins. My heart thudded wildly.
"Happens," he said simply, his voice calm. Time seemed to slow as he blinked lazily, breaking eye contact before walking past me.
I turned forward, trying to calm my racing heart, but his voice sliced through the air from behind.
"How bad do you need money?"
I froze, my breath catching in my throat. I didn't dare turn around, but I heard the shift of his footsteps as he turned instead.
"I can give you what you need," he continued. "Ten thousand. A million. I can make you free from all your financial problems."
I inhaled deeply, gathering every ounce of courage I had. I turned to face him, forcing the fakest smile onto my lips. "I'm sorry, Mr. Liu," I said, locking my gaze with his. I didn't know if he saw the tears threatening to spill, but I held my head high. "I'm fine. I don't need your help."
His smirk deepened, curling into something almost sinister. "Is that so? The deadline for your visa is in three days, and you don't need my help? Fourteen thousand Yuan won't get you far."
My mouth opened to retort, but the words died on my tongue. How did he know about my visa? My stomach churned as realization hit me. He must have looked into me. Faye didn't know about this. She couldn't have told him.
"What? Wondering how I know?" he asked, his voice dripping with mockery.
Heat rose in my chest, sharp and furious. He'd gone from dangerously attractive to downright infuriating in an instant.
A small, bitter smile played on my lips. "So? What's the price? What do you w—"
"You," he interrupted, his low voice cutting through the air like a blade. The single word hit me like a punch.
I froze, my breath hitching. His eyes were icy, yet his words burned. Men in movies or books didn't confess like this so cold, so detached.
"You. That's what I want," he said, stepping closer. Each step felt like a countdown, a bomb ticking in my chest. "Be mine. My woman. I'll give you everything you want," he finished, stopping inches from me, his presence overwhelming.
"Your woman?" I managed to ask, my voice barely audible. His gaze dropped from mine, trailing to my chest, lingering shamelessly.
A chuckle escaped his lips, low and dangerous, as his eyes stayed fixed on me. "Sleep with me. Only me," he said, his tone soft but laced with steel. "We'll draw up a contract. Terms and conditions. Sex, no strings attached."
I scoffed, stepping back. "I'm sorry, Mr Liu. But I'm a romantic. I don't do sex without strings."
"How disgusting," he muttered, looking away. "I guess your romantic ideals haven't gotten you very far. Your career as a model is dying. Think about it what happens when people think you're seeing a billionaire? I could control the modeling industry for you. Or the visa? A little cash could keep you here as long as you want. Romance won't do that for you."
That stung, his words hitting harder than I wanted to admit. I swallowed the lump in my throat, lifting my chin in defiance. "I'm not a prostitute. I have morals and values. If you don't, that's your problem. Now, excuse me."
I turned, my steps firm as I walked away, grabbing my things without looking back. His voice followed me.
"Morals and values aren't traits of a billionaire, darling."
I glanced back briefly before leaving without another word. My chest burned with anger and humiliation. I wasn't a virgin, but selling myself for money? Never. I'd be failing everything my father taught me, everything I've stood for. And I refuse to let anyone take that from me.