Nathaniel Fu.
He was back at the Yipinlan Villa, standing alone on the second-floor balcony, looking down at her and Julian.
"Harley Quinn," Julian said softly, brushing his hand across her hair. "You're my girlfriend. It's only right that I take care of you."
Celia instinctively looked up. The man on the balcony had one hand in his pocket and a cigarette between the fingers of the other. He stood still, cloaked in the night, his presence overwhelming, like a king looking down from his throne.
Celia immediately stepped away from Julian's hand. "Mr. Fu, I'm going in. Goodnight."
She quickly entered the villa.
Upstairs, Celia just wanted to get to her room. Her stomach still ached from earlier, and all she wanted was to lie down and rest.
But as she reached the landing, that tall, icy figure appeared from the shadows and blocked her path.
Her lashes trembled slightly. She could smell the cigarette smoke clinging to him—an expensive brand, subtle and sharp, laced with the kind of masculine dominance that came with wealth and control.
He was colder than the autumn night air, like the chill of midnight fog.
Celia raised her head and met his eyes. "Mr. Fu, is there something you need?"
Nathaniel had taken off his suit jacket. Beneath it, a black dress shirt clung to his broad shoulders, the top two buttons undone, revealing the sharp lines of his collarbone.
One hand remained in his pocket, while the other, wrist encased in a luxury timepiece, held a half-burned cigarette. His gaze fell to her lips. His voice was low, almost lazy."Had fun with my nephew? Why did you come back so late?"
Celia's voice was calm but distant. "Mr. Fu, we're not close. Where I go and who I go with is my personal business. I don't owe you an explanation."
Nathaniel didn't react with anger. Instead, he took a slow drag from his cigarette—and exhaled the smoke directly into her face.
Celia choked violently, the sharp nicotine catching in her throat and nose. She coughed, eyes watering. Before she could recover, his fingers clamped around her jaw, tilting her tear-streaked face upward.
His tone was mocking and cold."We just slept together, Celia. Still think we're not close?"
Shame and fury surged in her pale face, her cheeks flushing scarlet.
This was the real Nathaniel Fu—the man everyone said was cold, controlled, almost monk-like in restraint. But to her, he was nothing like that. His desire was real, burning and cruel.
Celia clenched her fists, her voice trembling but fierce. "Mr. Fu, I'm Julian's girlfriend now. Does that mean I have to ask your permission every time I go out on a date with him?"
She said it on purpose. She admitted it, right to his face.
The smile vanished from Nathaniel's lips. His fingers tightened cruelly against her jaw."When my nephew kisses you... do you open your mouth?"
Celia flinched from the pain, but her back straightened. Her lashes fluttered, her lips curved slightly, and her voice dripped with provocation."Why wouldn't I? That's how kissing works... right?"
She parted her lips just slightly, letting the tip of her tongue peek out, her expression playful, taunting.
He stared at her. The way she looked now—wet lashes, flushed cheeks, lips slightly parted—she was practically baiting him. A temptress. A siren.Celia was... fishing.
Nathaniel's eyes darkened, veins tightening at his temples. His fingers dug deeper into her skin, leaving visible red marks.
He laughed coldly."Should I get you another pack of birth control? Or should I make the responsible unclely decision and help you figure out whose baby it is—mine or my nephew's—when you get knocked up?"
The words hit her like a slap.
Celia's eyes went icy. She raised her hand and slapped him across the face with all her strength.
Smack.