Humiliation

The door clicked shut behind me, the echo sharp against the sterile silence of the penthouse office.

I stood there, straightening my suit jacket, feeling the weight of desperation pressing against my ribs.

This office was a far cry from the ones I was used to—cold, sleek, and suffocatingly modern, with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a panoramic view of the city.

It felt like standing inside a glass cage, every angle designed to remind me that I no longer held the power.

At the far end of the room, behind an imposing mahogany desk, she sat.

Han Li.

The woman who had once been nothing more than my secretary, quietly taking notes and fetching coffee.

Now?

She was seated in the very chair I had once thought was meant for men like me—the seat of power.

She didn't even bother to stand.

Instead, she regarded me with a look that was both amused and predatory, like a lion lazily observing a wounded animal, already certain of the outcome.

That look…

It froze me.

Not because I was afraid.

But because, for the first time in my life, I realized—I was the one being hunted.

> "You see," she began, her voice smooth, unhurried, dripping with condescension, "you came here offering a partnership."

She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the desk, her fingers steepled beneath her chin.

> "But let's be honest, Qin Zhen. What you're really offering is for Han Group to absorb your company's losses."

Her smile didn't reach her eyes.

Those eyes—**sharp, calculating, cold—**never left mine.

> "I mean, the Jiang family seems pretty decisive about eliminating your company. If I were to step in, that means I'd have to take on their animosity, incur major financial damages… all for what?"

She tilted her head, like a shark circling its prey, savoring the blood in the water.

I clenched my jaw, feeling the heat of humiliation rise beneath my skin.

I had walked into this office hoping for an alliance.

But I was standing in front of someone who didn't see me as an equal.

She saw me as a bargain. A liability. A man begging for scraps.

> "What do you want?" I snapped, my patience unraveling.

Her smile grew wider, sharper.She leaned back in her chair, completely at ease, her fingers tapping rhythmically against the armrest.

> "I won't offer you a partnership," she said casually, like we were discussing the weather.

> "But if you were a subsidiary company—"

No.

Absolutely not.

> "No."

The word came out like a snarl, my fists clenched so tightly my nails dug into my palms.

> "I'm not doing that."

Becoming a subsidiary meant surrendering everything—

My authority.

My legacy.

My pride.

It was a death sentence wrapped in corporate jargon.

Han Li didn't flinch.

She didn't argue.

She simply shrugged, like my refusal was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

> "Fair enough, CEO Qin," she said smoothly, her voice dripping with polite dismissal.

She leaned back into her chair, crossing one leg over the other with effortless grace.

> "I guess this meeting is over. See yourself out."

Just like that. Dismissed.

Like I was nothing.

The humiliation burned hotter than the rage.

I didn't wait for her to say anything else.

I turned on my heel, storming out of the office, my footsteps echoing loudly against the polished floors.

As I stepped into the empty elevator, I caught my reflection in the mirrored walls.

I looked like a man who had already lost.

Disheveled.

Tense.

Drowning beneath the weight of everything slipping through my fingers.

***

The door clicked shut behind Qin Zhen, the sound sharp and satisfying, like the final note of a perfectly composed symphony.

I leaned back in my chair, arms stretching lazily over my head as a laugh bubbled out of me—sharp, unrestrained, victorious.

Sweet, sweet payback.

After all those years of him looking down on me- well the original owner of the body but that's beside the point-, barking orders, treating me like a faceless cog in his corporate machine—

Who's laughing now?

Me.

And oh, it felt delicious.

But as the laughter faded, a deep exhaustion settled into my bones.

I rotated my neck, feeling the tension crack along my spine.

Building this empire in such a short span of time?

A masterpiece of sleepless nights, ruthless deals, and enough unethical decisions to make even the underworld raise an eyebrow.

Oil greased into government hands.

Strategic blackmail.

Power plays that could crumble empires—if they ever saw daylight.

But what could I do?

I was on a clock.

The plot was already ticking forward.

I needed to build my kingdom before the "Male Lead" and his shiny plot armor made his grand move against Qin Zhen.

Because here's the thing—I don't play second fiddle.

Not in business.

Not in life.

And definitely not in some second-rate harem storyline.

I checked the time.

Perfect.

I still had a window.

Today was a focal point in the original plotline.

The event—the moment that tied my beautiful, unattainable Jiang Yuxi to Jiang Wei's overrated, emotionally stunted harem.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes as I recalled the script.

Yuxi was supposed to be drugged at an elite event hosted by her oh-so-gracious adoptive parents.

Since her fall from grace, the vultures—men who used to cower beneath her success—had grown bold, their entitlement bloated with the scent of vulnerability.

The plot?

A classic.

Dubious consent.

A "fateful" one-night stand with Jiang Wei.

Grandparents finding out.

Emotional blackmail.

Forced marriage.

And the cherry on top?

The plot had the audacity to end that chapter with—

> "Jiang Wei was content."

Content?!

Fucking content?!

Bullshit.

> "Host!"

The voice cut through my thoughts like static on a bad radio frequency.

The system.

Whining again.

But it was faint—a distant buzz I barely registered.

Like background noise you eventually learn to ignore.

Was it screaming at me to stop?

To reconsider?

To stay on script?

I couldn't tell.

I didn't care.

Because Jiang Yuxi was out there—

And I wasn't going to let her become an accessory on that man's hold.

Not on my watch.

I hung up my last call, slid my phone into my coat pocket, and stepped into the waiting car.

> "Drive. Fast."

My heart raced—not with fear, but with purpose.

Because tonight wasn't going to be Jiang Wei's victory.

It was going to be mine.

---

Meanwhile, in the System Core…

> SYSTEM 404: [HOST DETECTED… PLOT DE

VIATION IMMINENT.]

SYSTEM 404: [ERROR: HOST IGNORES COMMANDS.]

SYSTEM 404: [WARNING. WARNING. WARNING.]*

SYSTEM 404: [FATE THREADS UNRAVELING.]

SYSTEM 404: [PLOT COLLAPSE AT 85% PROBABILITY.]

SYSTEM 404: [HOST—STOP—STOP—]

CONNECTION LOST.