The next morning, she moved into the study instead of the guest room.
Shen Kaizhe noticed immediately.
"This room is off-limits," he said.
"It has better light," she replied calmly. "And you said any room except yours."
"That was not what I meant."
She met his gaze, unflinching.
"Then be precise next time."
Silence stretched between them.
He realized then—she didn't avoid him.
She challenged him.
And he didn't know whether that irritated him… or intrigued him.
Unintentional Intimacy
Late that night, Shen Kaizhe couldn't sleep.
The penthouse felt different. Lived in.
He found her in the kitchen, barefoot, standing on tiptoe to reach a cabinet.
Without warning, the shelf shifted.
He moved on instinct—stepping in behind her, arms bracketing her body, steadying the cabinet with one hand.
Her back pressed into his chest.
She froze.
Neither of them spoke.
The air grew warm.
"I've got it," she said softly.
He didn't move.
"Shen Kaizhe," she murmured, not turning around. "If you don't let go now, this will stop feeling like an accident."
His breath caught.
Slowly—reluctantly—he stepped away.
For the first time, he realized the problem wasn't the contract.
It was that he no longer trusted himself to follow it.