Before coming here, Rachel Foster had braced herself for humiliation, believing she could endure it. Yet, she hadn't anticipated the depth of the pain.
She licked her dry lips, struggling to find the words. "I was wrong before, and I apologize to you, Mr. Scott."
Kingsly Scott chuckled, a hint of mockery in his tone. "You've set aside your usual pride and arrogance for Noah, coming to me humbly. It seems you truly care for your brother."
"Mr. Scott, I hope you can spare my brother..."
He interrupted her, his voice calm and detached. "Rachel, you're joking. I've always valued Noah, even entrusting him with a significant project like 'Westwood Heights.' I had high hopes for him. Why would I trouble him? However, given the project's current issues, how should the company's losses be handled even if I allow Noah to continue the renovation?"
Rachel swallowed hard. "Five hundred million isn't much for you, Mr. Scott..."
"It's not much," he admitted, "but do you think the company's board would willingly absorb a five hundred million loss?"
"Mr. Scott..." Her voice broke as she lowered her pale face. "I'm asking for your help."
His laughter was soft but biting. "You're becoming more unreasonable. In this situation, you don't seek your fiancé's help but come to me, an unrelated person. How inappropriate."
She bit her lip hard, her voice trembling. "Mr. Scott, you know full well Jasper doesn't have the resources to help me... I won't beat around the bush. If you can spare Noah, I'll agree to anything."
"Anything?" He raised an eyebrow, feigning curiosity. "I wonder what you mean by anything, Rachel..."
He clearly understood, yet he chose to toy with her, dragging out her humiliation. She couldn't afford to get angry, forcing herself to endure his mockery.
Her cheeks flushed faintly. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to say, "I'm willing to agree to the deal you proposed earlier, Mr. Scott."
"Deal?" His laughter grew louder, filling the cold night air. "You've oversimplified things, Rachel. I dislike women who pretend to be noble. From the start, you've presented yourself this way to me. If your true nature were like this, you'd be invaluable to me. But now, as expected, you're here for money, making you worth less than before—not even five hundred million."
Every word he spoke struck her like a dagger. She wanted to flee and escape the searing humiliation, but reason kept her rooted.
"Mr. Scott, I don't need you to give me five hundred million... If Noah continues the project, he can recover two hundred million in losses. I need you to cover the remaining three hundred million."
He smirked coldly. "Even three hundred million—you're not worth it."
His words stripped her bare, leaving her dignity in shreds.
Slowly, she raised her eyes to meet his faintly smiling face. Then, without warning, she tiptoed and pressed her trembling lips to his.
The night wind carried a chill, but she leaned into him, letting the heat of his body shield her from the cold.
The wind stirred the leaves on the ground before settling, leaving a deafening silence around them.
Rachel had never initiated a kiss with anyone like this, not even when she and Kingsly were together years ago.
Her movements were tentative and clumsy as she tiptoed, her lips gently pressing against his thin ones. She extended her tongue, mimicking the way he had kissed her last time, trying to part his lips bit by bit.
Kingsly didn't react. He merely looked down at her, his dark gaze fixed on her trembling lashes as she struggled to continue.
She tried for what felt like an eternity, but his lips remained unmoving, sealed tight. Her feet began to ache from standing on tiptoe.
Frustrated by her failed attempt, she bit her lower lip and lowered her heels, her cheeks burning with shame.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he watched her flushed face. With a low, teasing rasp, he asked, "What, giving up already?"
She lowered her head further in embarrassment. "I..."
"Hmm?" he prompted, his voice soft but mocking.
"I can't."
He chuckled, the sound profound and rich. "Your tactics aren't bad."
Her brows furrowed in confusion as she glanced up. "What do you mean?"
"Playing hard to get," he said lazily, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. "You've actually piqued my interest."
Her cheeks flamed. "I wasn't trying to—" She stopped herself, realizing arguing was pointless.
He smirked. "What's wrong? Did I say something untrue?"
She bit her lip, took a deep breath, and met his gaze. "Interpret it however you like."
Kingsly tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. "Giving up already?"
She didn't respond, her silence speaking volumes.
"Here's the deal," he said, his voice dropping lower. I'll give you one chance. I'll accept your deal if you can arouse me right now."
Her head snapped up, her eyes wide. "Are you serious?"
"Of course." His lips curled into a faint smile as he leaned closer, his breath brushing against her ear. "Let's change locations."
Before she could respond, he scooped her into his arms effortlessly and carried her toward the villa.
Her heart pounded wildly, and her thoughts spiraled into chaos. She shut her eyes tightly, too flustered to look at him or their surroundings until he seated her firmly on his lap.
"Now," he said, his voice husky, "let me see what you've got."
His breath on her neck made her feel hot and itchy, causing her to shrink her shoulders. "Don't do that..."
He paused, lifting his eyes to frown at her. "Are you pretending, or is it that you..."
Why did every touch evoke such a strong reaction from her? She didn't seem like someone experienced in such matters.
Could it be she honestly hadn't experienced these things? It was impossible; she and Jasper had been together for six years. In six years, something must have happened between them.
The only explanation was that she was pretending very convincingly.
"I..." She struggled to speak, unsure how to explain that she had never experienced this. She was genuinely nervous.
Her repeated "playing hard to get" finally made him lose patience. His expression turned cold as he released her waist, leaning back against the sofa, his eyes narrowing coldly at her. "The door is right there. If you want to leave, you can do so now."
She bit her lip. "I... I won't leave."
He sharply lifted her chin, his cold, dark eyes piercing into her panicked, confused ones. "Then show some sincerity instead of curling up like a porcupine at the slightest touch... No man likes a pretentious woman."
In his eyes, all her reactions were pretentious, making her uncomfortable.
Watching her long lashes droop in disappointment, he pinched her chin tightly. "Don't sell yourself and then put up a facade of virtue... If you can't do it, then get out." With that, he lifted her off his lap and stood up.
She had never been so humiliated; she felt utterly embarrassed, but she couldn't leave.
Rushing after him, she hugged him tightly from behind.
He stiffened slightly, clearly not expecting her to embrace him.
She closed her eyes, resting against his solid back, his pleasant scent surrounding her. She rasped, "I'm sorry... Give me another chance."
He laughed coldly inside, imagining her pleading like a dog wagging its tail, finding it oddly satisfying.
Her low plea, "Please."
His mood improved, a smile tugging at his lips as he turned to face her.
She raised her eyes, staring directly at his stern face.
He spoke softly, "Take off your clothes."
"What?"
She didn't hear clearly at first, and when it sank in, her face flushed. "Now, here?"
"Yes, right here. Let me see if you're worth the price you named today." With that, he walked to the living room's liquor cabinet to pour himself a glass of wine.
She stood there, stunned.
He took a sip of wine, not even glancing at her. "What, still hesitating?"
She snapped back, staring at him in disbelief, her hands trembling at her sides. After a long pause, she slowly lifted one hand to the zipper on the back of her dress.
As her fingers touched the cold zipper, her mother's dying words echoed in her mind.
"Rachel, you must take care of your siblings..."
She closed her eyes, her fingers trembling on the zipper.
Bit by bit, she slowly pulled the zipper down.
She had to admit she deliberately changed into this dress before meeting him today, never expecting she would be the one to remove it herself.
The next second, the dress pooled at her feet.
It was autumn, and she felt cold even in the heated villa.
She shivered, hugging herself, feeling utterly exposed.
He looked down, sipping his wine. When her dress fell, he glanced at her, his eyes slightly stunned.
Clad only in white underwear, her figure was graceful, her skin flawless and pale. With no moles or scars and her black hair cascading down, she was as beautiful as the goddess Athena from Greek mythology.
His Adam's apple bobbed, the wine in his throat suddenly dry, his body reacting immediately, heat spreading from below.
She could vaguely feel his intense gaze on her bare body, her skin flushing crimson, too embarrassed to look at him.
"Come here." He finally spoke, his voice low and suppressed.
At this point, she had no way out.
Taking a deep breath, she hugged herself, stepping toward him.
He held his wine glass, lounging against the liquor cabinet, watching her leisurely.
Finally, she stopped less than a meter from him, her bare skin even feeling his slightly heavy breathing.
The silence was incredible, and he unabashedly watched her graceful form.
She kept her head silent, only catching glimpses of his satisfied, curled lips from the corner of her eye. In his eyes, she must seem lowly and disgraceful.
Unbeknownst to her, though he drank his wine, his throat was inexplicably dry, overwhelmed by a powerful desire to throw her onto the bed.
Suddenly, he smashed the wine glass to the floor, wrapping an arm around her to pull her close.
"Ah—" she gasped, already turned and pressed against the liquor cabinet.
Her back hit the cold cabinet, making her yelp in pain, her face crumpling.
He firmly grasped her slender shoulders, looking at her with emotionless eyes.
"It hurts..." She struggled against his grip, oblivious to his increasingly heated gaze. "Let go... it hurts..."
The next second, he released her.
She didn't notice his expression, focusing only on massaging her sore shoulder until—
He suddenly pressed her hands against the liquor cabinet, lowering his head to kiss her fiercely.