Meanwhile, at the 28th floor of the Royal Club, a woman had cleaned herself up in the washroom
attached to the bedroom and stood in front of the mirror in a daze. She felt more perplexed regarding
her future. Taking back Wei’ai was not part of her life plan and it had ruined everything in her life.
Yet she did not regret of her decision! Although grandpa was indeed biased sometimes when he
pampered her, yet the fact that she was his granddaughter did not mean Payne James was not his
grandson. Maybe what grandpa did was not enough to avert suspicion, yet she knew deep down, his
strict and harsh appearance lied the care towards his grandchildren. Or else, Wei’ai would not be
created. If it was true that grandpa only had fear and the suspicion that she would threaten the James
family in the future, he could have followed the untold rule of the world of the rich---make her the bride
of the intermarriage.
Grandpa had held her hands before he passed away and said to her, “Take good care of it.” Now that
Wei’ai had once again being returned to her, she felt that the dark clouds before her eyes had
dispersed, her dismay disappeared and she made a decision, though she might still fail grandpa when
she did that.
She closed her eyes and a struggle look persisted when she opened them once more. She walked
towards the exit of the washroom with difficulty. Although it was just a door in front of her, that door
seemed to have separated two different worlds from each other and there was no turning back when
she stepped out of it…No. When had she ever had the chance to turn back?
She extended her trembling hand and gripped the door handle. She took a deep breath and exerted
some force, pulling the door open. She looked towards the bright floor lamp in front of the French
windows subconsciously when she raised her head and as anticipated, that man was sitting languidly
on the leather single couch while holding a book, reading quietly. He seemed to especially enjoy taking
a book casually and read it on the couch when she was taking a bath. If she had not understood the
grudge they held against each other and the fact that they had owed a person’s life too well, she would
have had the absurd delusion that during every moment like this, he had sat on the couch and read
silently, just to keep her company.
Yet…Grace mocked herself---Don’t be silly. The price of being naïve was being thrown into hell, and
she had already been in hell now!
She knew her body was shuddering now as she had the hunch that something was going to happen
tonight. She had made a promise to him regarding what had happened in the James family back then
when she borrowed 400 million from him. Her answer towards his question was obeying all his orders.
Although she did not know what else she was left with, she had sold all herself to him.
“Pre…President Shaw,” she said with her voice trembling after making some considerations, “I…I’ve
cleaned myself up.” I’ve cleaned myself up, you can now do anything you want to me. She could not
say the last part of the sentence no matter how.
Despicable! You are despicable! Grace James. Would you throw up in disgust when you see yourself
like that in your dream? It was that man who had ruined all your life with his hands, made you fall into
the mud, made you dirty and made you abased yourself, even the right to hate was a luxury! Yet you’re
still pleading and flattering him at this moment like a pitiful dog! And was even abject enough to open
your legs and ask him : Mister, I’ve cleaned myself. Do you have the interest to bang me now?
Disgusting! Grace James, you’re despicable enough to make people barf!
The woman on the bed was clasping the blanket. She gazed at the man on the couch and forced a
smile, a flattering smile towards the lethargic man sitting on the couch. Yet she did not know that her
wet hair had covered her smiling face, making her look like a cadaverous ghost!
The man on the couch lifted his head up from the book. His eyes fell on her face, and then slowly slid
to her fingers which were clasping the blanket before her chest. His eyes moved from her pale
knuckles and the veins bulging in the back of her hand, and landed on her cadaverous face once more.
He then squinted.
Not knowing whether it was illusion or not, Grace who was on the bed shuddered when she felt that the
surrounding temperature had plummeted. Her fingers clasped the blanket until her fingertips went pale.
She was so nervous that she did not dare to blink and her eyes were fixed on the man who seemed to
grow more dangerous under the light of the lamp. “Pre, President Shaw…” Yes, he was dangerous!
There was a dangerous aura surrounding the man at this moment and she had no idea what words had
she offended him. She told herself : Grace, just a little longer and it would be alright. It would be fine
when you close your eyes. “President Shaw, I, I’ve cleaned myself up.” She spoke quickly the second
time. “Don’t worry, I’ll not borrow 400 million from you for free. Since I’ve promised you, I…I am willing
to do so!” She squeezed out the last few words from her mouth.
“Willing to do so?” An indiscernible anger was mixed into his voice under the light. He chuckled. “You
said, you’re willing to do so?”
“…yes!”
His deep eyes were locked on the woman on the bed. He was almost out of his mind when she said
those words and an indescribable rage almost engulfed his sanity at once! “Willing to do so? Willing to
do what? Willing to…” let me rape you? His furious voice jolted to a halt and his sanity returned from
the edge of being crushed completely.
He slammed the book shut and the sound of smashing something was actually heard. He did not utter
a word and his brooding eyes were fixed on the face of the woman on the bed. The hardback book was
actually dented with streaks of finger mark when he clamped his hand on the book cover. And she
could not understand his expression when his eyes were growing more profound and complicated! He
kept on staring at her and she had no idea why was she even more frightened and anxious than when
she first met him after being released from prison. She then tugged the blanket up subconsciously.
On the spur of the moment, the man who was sitting on the couch stood to his feet. Grace cringed and
muttered. “Pre, President Shaw.” She raised her head and still forced out a smile though her face was
trembling. “Pre…President Shaw, I, I’m ready.”
The man started to the bedside and his long legs entered her line of vision. Yet he suddenly extended
his hand and waved at her while ordering blandly. “Sit here.”
Grace was confused, yet she still sat closer to him reluctantly under his profound stare. The man took a
towel off the shelf beside him, covered and rubbed her hair with it in front of her. He then took the hair
dryer.
He spoke when her hair was dried. “Don’t sleep with a wet hair in the future.” His voice was not gentle,
but calm and peaceful.
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