Chapter 14: I’m Back, Bitch

In the glitzy-ass party with clinking glasses and glittering chandeliers, Lian sat in the corner in her beige midi dress, sipping sparkling water while people-watching.

The Shang family's baby girl was the absolute star tonight. At fifteen or sixteen, she was decked out like a peacock, flitting around the room like a hyperactive fairy. With that perfect mix of princess vibes and pixie energy, she was practically a human spotlight.

But it was the older sister, Shang Kexin, who held Lian's gaze. The icy-blue evening gown she wore looked like it was painted on, her every move oozing elegance with a side of chill. Every smile, every tilt of her head—Lian couldn't help but think this was what peak female perfection looked like. Like a walking daydream.

Without thinking, Lian's eyes drifted to Xin Wen. Their gazes locked, his eyes warm as a mountain lake at dawn... except for the way his fingers drummed against his wine glass, subtly pointing at her chest.

"Jesus Christ!" Lian hissed, feeling her cheeks flame as she realized her neckline had practically flashed the entire room. She mentally kicked herself for letting Xin Wen talk her into this dress—if she'd held her ground, she wouldn't be one boob slip away from becoming tonight's viral gossip.

After tugging her neckline back into place, she found the bastard himself sliding into the seat beside her with that infuriatingly serene smile.

"You're such a sneaky little shit, Mr. Xin," she whispered through gritted teeth with a forced smile.

Her mind raced back to their earlier argument—if she hadn't put her foot down, she'd be wearing that slutty strapless silk mini he'd tried to pawn off as "appropriate evening wear." Dear God.

But two could play this game. With a sweetly vicious grin, she tossed a frilly pink kawaii kids' outfit onto his lap.

"Try this on, and I might consider giving in," she challenged, batting her eyelashes mock-innocently.

Lian clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a snort, recalling Xin Wen's grumpy-pants meltdown when she'd thrown that frilly pink monstrosity at him. The mental image alone was giving her a case of the giggles.

"Don't act all innocent—you're practically glowing like a human disco ball right now," Xin Wen shot back, eyes lingering appreciatively as neon lights danced across her porcelain skin. Even flustered, she had this ethereal quality that made him want to wrap her in bubble wrap and hide her from the world.

"Whatever. I'm here to work, not win Miss Congeniality," she retorted, chugging her water like it was liquid courage. "If your ex-mob buddies show up for revenge, don't blame me when I'm too busy looking fabulous to save your ass."

"Please, my only enemy is poor fashion choices," he scoffed, thoroughly enjoying her eye roll. "I'm basically a saint with a bank account."

Before Lian could retort, Shang Kexin materialized like a hologram—all sleek curves and predatory grace.

"Mr. Xin, so glad you could make it!" she cooed, her voice pure velvet mischief.

"Wouldn't miss your sister's circus-themed birthday bash," he replied smoothly, ignoring Lian's elbow jab to his ribs. "Gave the gift to the intern. Something sparkly with a 'do not open' sticker."

"Polite is just code for 'we're not friends,'" Shang Kexin's smile didn't waver, but her eyes sharpened like a cat eyeing a canary. "Funny, though… that curly-haired girl over there looks familiar. Like someone I've seen before."

Xin Wen's champagne flute froze mid-air. The words hit him like a semi-truck full of bricks. "You—you saw her? Where?" His voice cracked embarrassingly.

"Let's chat over there," Shang Kexin purred, her gaze sliding to a secluded corner. Xin Wen practically sprinted after her, leaving Lian clutching her water like a lifeline.

Who the hell was this mystery girl? Lian watched their retreating figures, her nails digging into her palm. Before she could spiral, a familiar click made her blood boil—another damn paparazzo.

This time she caught the culprit: tall, broad-shouldered, bolting toward the exit. She trailed him onto the moonlit lawn, where he abruptly stopped, caught between her and a cluster of servants.

"Smart move," Lian drawled, blocking his path with crossed arms. "You're not outrunning me in those loafers."

"Damn right, you're not getting rid of me that easy, Nian," the man drawled, turning slowly. His espresso-dark eyes bored into hers like twin black holes, his chiseled jawline practically screaming "I'm trouble." A cocky smirk curled his lips as he leaned against the marble fountain—all leather jacket and bad boy vibes. "Xu Zijian. The guy who stole your first kiss… then got kicked into a gutter for his trouble." His gaze dropped to her lips, smoldering. "Your kiss is the one weakness I'll never escape."