"Boss, the Yang family has submitted an application for the contract. Should we accept it or reject it?"
The young assistant stood in the center of the office, his posture tense, tablet clutched tightly in both hands. The room was vast and minimalistic, a clear reflection of authority and control. Sunlight poured through floor-to-ceiling windows, cutting across the polished wooden floor in sharp lines.
Jiang Yu sat behind the massive desk, hands folded lightly, though his fingers tapped intermittently against the smooth surface. Each tap was slow, deliberate, measured. He did not answer immediately. Time seemed to stretch, heavy with anticipation.
Finally, he spoke, voice calm yet commanding, every word carrying weight.
"Not yet. Arrange a meeting with them. I want to negotiate personally before any contract is signed."
The assistant bowed slightly. "Yes, sir." Without another word, he exited the office, leaving Jiang Yu alone with his thoughts.
The door clicked shut, and silence swallowed the room.
Jiang Yu leaned back, his gaze drifting toward a locked drawer. He retrieved a photograph, its edges worn from constant handling. It was a picture of Mei Yang, smiling softly, her eyes clear, unguarded—the gentle warmth of the woman she had once been, before the world hardened her.
His expression darkened.
"My darling," he murmured, voice low, possessive, the words trembling with a dangerous edge. "You were never meant to belong to anyone else."
A small, calculating smile tugged at his lips.
"Don't worry. Before I sign any deal with your family, I'll take you back first."
He lingered over the photo, lost in a moment where reality and time slipped away. The office, the city, even the world beyond seemed to fade.
Then the sharp ring of his phone shattered the silence.
Jiang Yu answered immediately.
"Master Jiang," a trembling voice reported, fear etched in every word. "They… they are hurting your wife."
The words hit him like lightning.
"What did you say?" His tone dropped to an icy growl. "Who dares touch my woman?"
"Sir… it's the Yang family."
Before the caller could continue, Jiang Yu had already risen. His chair scraped harshly against the floor as he strode toward the exit with unstoppable force.
By the time he reached the ground floor, a black luxury car waited, engines humming with latent power.
"To the Yang Villa," he ordered, voice sharp and lethal.
The driver did not hesitate. The car surged forward, accompanied by four escort vehicles, shadows moving in precise, unwavering formation.
Meanwhile, at the Yang Villa, chaos simmered beneath a facade of calm.
"Ah, sister, there's really no need to trouble Mom and Dad," Mei Yang said quietly, her voice deceptively gentle. A trace of sarcasm lay beneath the calm tone. "I already told them. If I had the money, I would've paid for your clothes."
"Sis, I'm really telling the truth," Yan Yang replied, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her sobs were convincing, perhaps too convincing.
"Enough." A male voice cut sharply through the room. "Yan Yang doesn't need to apologize. Mei Yang is the one at fault."
Mei Yang turned her head. Li Xiao stood beside Yan Yang, his arm subtly shielding her, a silent barrier.
"Thank you, Brother Li," Yan Yang murmured softly, her voice honeyed with false modesty. "But maybe it is my fault. Sister has helped me realize that."
As she spoke, Yan Yang leaned closer to Li Xiao, pressing against him just enough to provoke attention, her actions deliberate and intoxicatingly manipulative.
A painful twist coiled in Mei Yang's chest—not jealousy, not anger, but bitter regret. She cursed herself silently. The signs had always been there, written boldly before her eyes, yet she had chosen to trust, chosen to believe they would never betray her.
"Dad," Mei Yang said, keeping her voice steady, "when Yan Yang called me, I told her I didn't have the money—"
Smack!
The whip lashed across her back before she could finish her sentence.
"You liar!" Hao Yang roared, face contorted in rage.
Pain exploded across Mei Yang's back, tearing through her body and ripping a scream from her throat. Her legs buckled beneath her, and she collapsed onto the marble floor. Shards of broken glass from a toppled vase pierced her palms and knees.
Blood spread across the marble, vivid and sharp, yet she did not cry. Her vision blurred, pain radiating like fire through every nerve, but she clenched her fists, enduring.
Yan Yang stood by, smirk hidden behind her glistening tears. Watching her kneel in pain… it was exquisite.
"Yes, sister," Yan Yang said, voice sweet, fake concern dripping from every word. "Why are you lying? Didn't your company pay you your salary just last week?"
Every syllable felt like a blade twisting deeper into her wounds. Yet Mei Yang endured, refusing to beg, refusing to break.
Suddenly, a young servant burst into the room, panic evident in his expression.
"Sir! Sir!"
"What is it now?" Hao Yang barked impatiently.
"Sir… Young Master Jiang is here."
"What?" Hao Yang froze. "Jiang Yu?"
"Yes, sir. He's already on his way inside."
Hao Yang's heart skipped violently. Is he here for the contract? Panic overtook him, and he hurriedly instructed everyone to clean the mess—but it was far too late.
The front door swung open.
Jiang Yu stepped inside, each stride radiating an aura of lethal control.
The moment his eyes landed on Mei Yang, the world seemed to freeze.
She knelt amidst broken glass, blood soaking through her clothes. Whip marks streaked across her back, her hands trembling as shards pierced the skin. Yet her face held no tears. Her eyes were defiant.
The sight carved itself into Jiang Yu's soul. Calm shattered completely, replaced by a terrifying aura that seemed to drain warmth from the room. Veins bulged along his arms, fists clenching as air grew thick and suffocating.
Slowly, he lifted his gaze, voice cold enough to freeze hell itself.
"Who," he said, every word deliberate, dangerous, lethal, "gave you permission to touch my woman?"
The room seemed to shrink under the weight of his presence. Even Hao Yang, usually unshakable, faltered, a bead of sweat tracing down his temple. Yan Yang's false tears faltered, her confident smirk disappearing beneath the gravity of Jiang Yu's wrath.
And Mei Yang… she laid there with immense pain before going unconscious