His Dear Devilish Angel
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After witnessing the cruel reality of the world at a very young age, she matured early. However, despite giving her everything, she couldn't save her family from myriads of schemes.
She got used to the darkness so much to the point of subconsciously running away from light.
Having been forced to wear his name since her 18th birthday, she was angered at the mere thought of him. yet knowing that it was his territory, she willingly walked in.
And she knew he was waiting.
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"I remember telling you, little fox," he murmured, his voice a barely whisper as he reached out, tracing the line of her jaw before trailing down to her collarbone. His jade-like fingers burned against her skin. "If you came back, your chances of escape would be zero to none."
"Oh, and what makes you think you can control my life?" her eyes had the very same indifference she carried when she entered the room.
His lips curled into an amused smirk, a devilish glint flashing in his gaze as he took her wrist, revealing the elegant bracelet adorning it—a silent claim she had knowingly carried all these years.
"Well," he drawled, eyes locking onto hers with a suffocating intensity, "you already bear my mark with you no matter wherever you go. So from your mind to your heart, from your body to your soul—everything belongs to me, my dear baby girl."
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Her fingers tightened around the trigger of the gun pointing at his chest. “Stay right there,” she warned, her voice steady despite the storm in her heart.
But he stepped closer, deliberately, until the space between them disappeared. His hand reached out, fingers ghosting over her wrist, his touch light yet possessive.
"Are you flirting with me, little fox?" His voice was a deep whisper near her ear, laced with dark amusement.
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