What Exactly Do You Want?

Rick, despite having been kicked, still wore a smile on his face. The female employees nearby were shocked and rushed over to check on him. 

"Are you okay, Mr. Fan?" one of them asked, her voice laced with concern.

"That looked like it hurt," another added, her eyes wide with worry.

"Maybe you should sit down and rest for a bit," suggested another, her hand hovering near him as if ready to offer support.

But Rick just waved them off with a smile. "No need, don't let me interrupt your chat." With that, he walked off, leaving the women behind, utterly baffled.

"Why does he look so happy after getting kicked by Mr. Howard?"

"Right? And that was a kick to… well, you know where!"

"Has he gone mad? Maybe it messed with his head?"

"No, that wouldn't make sense—it wasn't a kick to the brain."

"True, but still…" 

They trailed off, shaking their heads in disbelief as Rick disappeared down the hallway.

Rick headed straight for Howard's office but was promptly stopped by Monica before he could enter. 

Rick raised an eyebrow. "What's this about?"

The sharp, no-nonsense assistant in her business attire stood her ground. "Mr. Howard said no visitors today, especially you."

Rick's smile faltered, replaced by a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. Is he really that angry?

"If you insist on waiting, please do so in the break room," Monica instructed, refusing to budge from her spot in front of the office door.

"Not even family can go in?" Rick asked, his frustration growing.

"Mr. Howard said you're welcome—provided it's in an urn."

Rick's face darkened, and he quickly retracted his step. 

"Is it really necessary to be this mad?" he muttered under his breath, but he knew better than to push his luck. Resigned, he sat down outside the office, pulling out his phone to arrange extra security for his grandmother.

Meanwhile, Noah, who had left his own office in a fury over two hours ago, had been sidetracked by Feder to run errands. He finally arrived at Feder's house, his anger boiling over as he banged on the door, only to be greeted by a beautiful woman he didn't recognize. 

He glanced inside and saw a group of women lounging around, dressed in barely-there clothing. 

Noah's blood pressure spiked. Did he really call me here to cook for these women?

The woman at the door gave Noah a once-over, assuming by the groceries in his hands that he must be the hired help. 

"Mr. Li, is this the housekeeper you called?" she shouted over her shoulder towards the balcony, where Feder was casually taking a call. 

Feder, hearing the commotion, turned to look back inside, his gaze icy and filled with a barely restrained menace—though it wasn't directed at Noah, but at the woman.

Frightened, the woman quickly stepped aside to let Noah in.

The women who were lounging on the floor, watching TV, turned their heads curiously to see Noah enter. Feder was known to despise having men in his home, so they were surprised to see Noah there, wondering who this man could be to warrant such an exception.

Noah dumped the groceries on the dining table, noticing the mess of junk food wrappers and beer bottles littering the room. His anger flared even hotter.

"Why did it take you so long to get here?" Feder asked, appearing suddenly behind Noah. He lit a cigarette, casually tossing the lighter onto the table as he exhaled smoke with a cool, indifferent air.

Noah clenched his fists, barely keeping his temper in check. He locked eyes with Feder, his voice a growl. "Delete the photos."

Feder gave a sly smile, roughly grabbing Noah's chin. "I'll delete them when I'm satisfied," he said, his tone laced with a teasing menace.

Noah's fury reached a boiling point. "What the hell do you want from me?"

Feder feigned a thoughtful expression, as if pondering the question deeply. But he offered no clear answer, leaving Noah feeling like he was being toyed with.

Meanwhile, the women in the living room exchanged shocked glances, unable to believe what they were seeing. Feder was notorious for his hatred of other men—she'd seen him break a man's arm for getting too close—yet here he was, standing inches from Noah with a smile that he had never once shown them.

"Talk, damn it!" Noah roared, furious at being treated like a joke, especially with the women watching.

"Why so angry? Sit down, relax—we can chat," Feder suggested, blowing smoke directly into Noah's face with a nonchalant smirk, clearly enjoying his dominance in the situation.

"Who the hell wants to chat with a scumbag like you?" Noah shot back, his face flushed with rage.

But Feder just laughed softly, exhaling another cloud of smoke, his tone mocking. "What's wrong? Don't you want the photos deleted?"

Noah was at a loss for words, his fury making him tremble. He was about to explode but forced himself to take several deep breaths, trying desperately to keep his anger in check. *Noah, don't let this bastard get to you. He's just a worthless dog. It's not worth it.*

Feder noticed Noah's struggle for self-control, and his smirk deepened. 

*Interesting… He's usually so quick to anger, yet he managed to rein it in so quickly.* 

Feder found this development amusing, even a bit entertaining. He sat down at the table, propping one foot on a nearby chair as he scrutinized Noah with a slight grin.

Noah's fists clenched once more. He couldn't stand Feder's arrogant attitude.

*It's okay, Noah. Just get the photos deleted, and then you'll never have to deal with this scumbag again.* 

Noah forced himself to stay calm. "I don't have time for your games. If you have something to say, say it."

Feder gave a lazy stretch, then suddenly yanked Noah into his lap with a strong arm, holding him close. The sudden movement made it clear just how much stronger Feder was compared to Noah. Feder's chiseled muscles and tall frame radiated an air of dangerous wildness, accentuated by the black robe he was wearing, which hung loosely off his broad shoulders like a predatory beast just woken from slumber.

To the women watching, this was the epitome of male allure—bad boy charm mixed with raw masculinity. But to Noah, all he saw was red.

Feder noticed the fury in Noah's eyes, and his smirk only grew wider. 

He took a drag from his cigarette before shoving it into Noah's mouth, forcing him to take a puff. As Noah reluctantly inhaled, Feder blew the smoke back in his face, a move that was both playful and deliberately provocative.

Noah's face twisted with rage. He tried to spit the cigarette out, but before he could, Feder grabbed his chin, laughing softly. "You can spit it out if you want, but if you do, I'll make sure you regret it."

Noah's grip tightened until his nails bit into his palms, drawing blood. He knew Feder wasn't bluffing. This man was a true sadist—if he threatened something, he would follow through.