Entertainment

Jiang Yuxi's POV

The plush leather seat of the luxury car offered little comfort as I sank into it, staring out the tinted window. The hum of the engine was a faint backdrop to the relentless storm in my mind.

Being in the Jiang family home was draining.

Every room, every glance, every carefully measured word—it all felt like walking through a suffocating fog. Since the scandal, Mrs. Jiang insisted I move back in, claiming it was for "family support." But I knew better.

It was about control.

Escaping felt impossible, I couldn't help the flicker of relief that had surged through me when her text arrived earlier.

> "Come play."

So casual. So simple.

I'd almost ignored it. After all, the paparazzi had been relentless since the scandal, their cameras sharp as knives, waiting to catch me at my weakest.

But when I hesitated, her next message arrived:

> "I'll handle it."

And that was it.

I didn't admit how quickly I'd started getting ready after that.

I thought Han Li would come to pick me up.

Instead, a driver—polite, dressed in a tailored black suit with mirrored sunglasses that reflected nothing—greeted me with a simple, "Miss Jiang," before opening the door like I was royalty.

But there was no Han Li.

I stared out the window, trying to ignore the odd flutter of disappointment in my chest. I wasn't expecting her to show up, I reminded myself. It was just a ride.

The car ride was quiet, the driver professional and expressionless. I thought we'd head to some hidden café or private residence, something discreet.

Not the airport.

We bypassed the usual terminals, gliding through private gates until we stopped near a sleek, private jet gleaming under the soft glow of runway lights.

A private jet.

Sure, I had money. Enough for first-class tickets, luxury hotels, even a penthouse if I really pushed it. But this?

This was different.

This wasn't wealth. It was power.

The flight was smooth, the kind of luxury that felt effortless. The seats were plush, the air smelled faintly of expensive leather and something citrusy.

I must've dozed off, lulled by the quiet hum of the engines and the gentle sway of the plane.

A soft voice woke me.

> "Miss Jiang?"

I blinked, greeted by a smiling flight attendant holding out two sundresses.

> "We'll be arriving soon. Would you like to change into something more comfortable?"

I chose the simpler one, slipping into a soft white dress paired with delicate sandals. After freshening up, I felt lighter—almost like myself again.

---

The car that picked me up from the private airstrip was sleek, the kind designed not just for luxury but for discretion.

As we neared our destination, my breath caught.

A beachside resort—but not the kind found in glossy magazines.

Security was intense: gated checkpoints, biometric scanners, private guards dressed in sleek, unassuming attire. Beyond the gates, the atmosphere shifted. Men and women mingled—powerful people. Not just celebrities, but political figures, foreign dignitaries, people whose decisions shaped nations.

And what was Han Li doing here?

 I was guided through a winding path lined with tropical flowers, the faint sound of waves crashing in the distance.

Eventually, we reached an open-air bar nestled near the shoreline. The scent of the ocean mixed with expensive liquor and freshly squeezed citrus.

No one paid me any attention as I walked across the soft sand.

To them, I was just an inconsequential actress and that was so relieving.

And then I saw her.

Han Li.

She stood by the bar, framed by the vast expanse of the ocean behind her.

She wore a loose, slate-blue short-sleeved shirt, unbuttoned over a simple white tank top. Paired with matching shorts, the outfit was casual yet effortlessly cool. The fabric moved with her as the breeze played with the edges, the relaxed fit only highlighting the confidence she carried in her posture.

The wind ruffled her short hair slightly, strands falling messily across her forehead, making her look both carefree and strikingly sharp.

I hated how my heart did that stupid little skip.

Before I could dwell on that thought, someone else appeared.

A tall, blonde woman with sun-kissed skin glistened under the afternoon light, wearing nothing but a barely-there swimsuit that left very little to the imagination. She moved with the kind of fluid grace that screamed confidence, her every step purposeful as she made her way directly toward Han Li.

I slowed down, my fingers tightening around the straps of my purse.

Even if foreigners are accustomed to such greetings, it's not—

My thoughts came to an abrupt halt.

The blonde woman reached Han Li, wrapping her arms around her neck, pulling her in close—way too close.

Han Li didn't step back. She didn't look uncomfortable.

No.

She smiled.

Casual. Comfortable. Familiar.

Her arm slid around the woman's waist with practiced ease, pulling her in even closer. Their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, as if this wasn't the first time.

Vile, full-blown distaste and anger surged through me, hot and unrelenting.

What was this?

I squeezed my purse strap tighter, my nails digging into the leather as I quickened my pace. My heart was racing, my thoughts a tangled mess of confusion and frustration.

And then—

The blonde giggled, her breathless laugh carrying easily over the sound of the waves. She leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of Han Li's mouth, her lips lingering for just a second too long before she whispered something in Han Li's ear.

That was it.

I didn't think. I just moved.

My steps grew faster, almost mechanical, driven by something primal and irrational. What was I even planning to do? I didn't know.

Just as I was about to reach them, Han Li finally pulled back—only to smack the woman's backside with a casual flick of her hand.

She smacked her. Fucking Bottom.

The blonde giggled again, clearly unfazed, and strutted away with an exaggerated sway of her hips, tossing a playful wink over her shoulder.

And Han Li watched.

She actually watched.

Something inside me snapped.

I stormed the last few steps, my pulse pounding so loud I could barely hear the sound of my own voice.

> "Ahem."

Han Li turned, her expression shifting from relaxed to… guilty.

Good.

She had the decency to look guilty.

I didn't give her the chance to speak first.

I glared at her, the heat of my anger bubbling just beneath the surface.

***

Han Li's POV

I wasn't expecting to see her so soon.

Jiang Yuxi.

Standing there in the sunlight, her simple white sundress brushing against her legs, her hair pulled back loosely, wisps framing her face.

She looked breathtaking.

But it wasn't her beauty that knocked the air out of my lungs.

It was the look on her face.

Fury.

Sharp. Raw. Unapologetic.

Her eyes burned with something fierce, her lips pressed into a tight line as she stalked toward me.

I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but all that came out was a weak,

> "Yuxi—"

She cut me off with a glare that could've melted steel.

***

Jiang Yuxi's POV

> "Don't 'Yuxi' me."

My voice was sharp, colder than the ocean breeze that whipped between us.

She straightened slightly, slipping her hands into the pockets of her shorts like this was just another casual encounter.

That infuriating smirk she usually wore? Gone.

Good.

> "Seems like you've been busy," I snapped, my voice dripping with disdain.

Her lips twitched, almost like she wanted to smile but thought better of it.