She knew pressing further would be futile, but her curiosity got the better of her.
"Ilya," she began cautiously, "I understand you want to protect me right? Is there anything you can tell me that won't put me at risk?"
Ilya's expression softened slightly, but the emptiness in his eyes remained. He leaned back on the couch, his silvery white hair cascading over his shoulders, partially covering the tattoos on his neck and collarbone.
"Chenyao," he said, his voice low and measured, "What I do... it's complicated. There are forces at play that even I don't fully comprehend sometimes. But know this – everything I do is calculated. I'm always ten steps ahead. Just continue viewing me as a handsome CEO."
"..."
He paused, tracing the thin chain around his neck. "The blood you saw... let's just say it was taking care of the weeds around the tree. But I can assure you, I'm not the one in danger here."
