Fu Chi, at some point, had opened his eyes. He leaned back on the sofa, his thin lips curled in a slight smirk, and his eyes held a hint of laughter.
Jiang Ruan snapped back to reality, meeting his gaze. She thought that this man was becoming more and more unrestrained, completely tearing down that facade, revealing his inherently dominant side.
Cultured, elegant, refined.
Those were all superficial masks.
She felt increasingly suppressed by this man. She laughed ambiguously and tried to stand up straight and leave.
However, the man suddenly lifted his hand, hooking his arm around her slender waist, and pulled her into his arms. Caught off guard, Jiang Ruan ended up falling into his embrace.
The faint fragrance of the man's body confronted her nose, an irresistibly good scent.
By her ear, she heard a low, sensual laugh.
