I had zero intention of listening to his parting order to “wait for me at home.” Instead, I hailed a cab and headed straight to a bar owned by Diep Tu, my best friend since childhood. The deafening music and pulsating neon lights served as a temporary sanctuary for my trembling heart.

“So? Are you divorced yet?” Diep Tu handed me a glass, her eyes shining with pure, unadulterated gossip.

I knocked back half the glass in one go. The sharp, burning liquor slid down my throat, searing away whatever was left of my pride.

“Divorced my ass,” I gritted out. “I feel like I didn’t go there to file for divorce—I went there to surrender my life.”

After listening to my story, Diep Tu fell silent for three full seconds before delivering her firm verdict:

“Your husband… is a total freak.”

“Right?!” I agreed instantly, taking another swing of my drink to drown out the embarrassment.

“Though, looking at your face…” She narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing me. “You look kind of… into it?”

I nearly choked on my drink. “I am not! I’m fucking furious!”

Even as the words left my mouth, a quiet voice in the back of my mind rebelled. The sheer sensation of being completely controlled by him, of watching the usually unflappable Professor Fu lose his composure because of me… damn it, it was undeniably intoxicating.

“So what now?” Diep Tu rested her chin in her hand. “He told you to wait at home, and here you are at a bar. That’s outright rebellion.”

“I don’t give a damn!” I slammed my glass onto the counter. “I’m going to show him that Tang Yu isn’t some toy he can boss around!”

The phone on the bar counter vibrated violently. Three words lit up the screen: Fu Yanli.

My hand trembled slightly, and I almost threw the phone into a parabolic arc across the room. Speak of the devil. Had he put a GPS tracker on me or something? I took a deep breath and swiped to reject the call.

A second later, it rang again. I declined it again.

On the third attempt, he didn’t call. Instead, a photo popped up in my notifications. In the picture, the divorce papers bearing my signature lay neatly on the desk next to his familiar fountain pen. Beneath it was a short message:

My heart hammered against my ribs. Blackmail! Pure, unadulterated blackmail!

“What did he say?” Diep Tu leaned over to peek. She sucked in a cold breath. “Masterclass. He knows you don’t actually want a divorce, so he’s using it as leverage. If you go back now, you’re getting eaten alive. Not even the bones will be left.”

I tugged at my hair in frustration. I knew that! But if I didn’t go back, what if he actually signed it? In three years, I hadn’t even managed to warm his frozen heart. Was it really going to end in such a pathetic defeat? I couldn’t accept that. I truly couldn’t.

While I was locked in a fierce internal battle, a second message arrived:

Fu Yanli, you absolute monster! If my parents found out, my dad would break my legs before I even had the chance to sign the final decree.

I bolted up, grabbing my purse. “Diep Tu, I’m leaving!”

“Go, go,” she waved me off in farewell. “At least it’s strawberry yogurt and not strawberry-flavored handcuffs… there’s still hope for you!”

I was speechless. With a best friend like her, who needed enemies?

On the ride back, my heart wouldn’t stop racing. I couldn’t stop imagining what kind of unorthodox “discipline” he had lined up for me tonight.

I unlocked the door and stepped inside like a prisoner walking toward the gallows. The living room was brightly lit. Fu Yanli was sitting on the sofa with his laptop resting on his lap, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the keyboard. He had changed into a set of gray silk pajamas, the collar slightly open to reveal the sharp lines of his collarbone. His gold-rimmed glasses were back on, making him look so gentle and refined that I briefly questioned if the afternoon’s storm had just been a hallucination.

At the sound of my entry, he looked up, his tone as casual as if no mind games had ever taken place:

“You’re back?”

I nodded stiffly, creeping over to sit on the sofa opposite him. “Where are the papers?”

He closed his laptop and picked up the agreement. “Right here.”

“What do you actually want?” I took a deep breath to summon my courage. “If you don’t want a divorce, at least give me a reason.”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he countered, “The name on your neck… did you wash it off?”

I instantly covered my throat with my hand. Even though I had scrubbed furiously in the bar bathroom, the fountain pen ink had stubbornly left a faint blue stain, as if intentionally flaunting his mark of ownership.

“Fu Yanli, don’t push it!”

“Pushing it?” He stood up, closing the distance between us step by step. That familiar cedarwood scent enveloped me once again.

He gently brushed my hand aside, his long fingers trailing over the sensitive skin of my neck. I jolted as if shocked by electricity, and his dark eyes suddenly deepened. “Is this what you call pushing it?”

He leaned down close to my ear, his voice dropping low and raspy:

“Then what are you going to do… in a moment?”

Before I could process the implication behind his words, he scooped me up into his arms.

“Fu Yanli! What are you doing?! Put me down!”

His body was radiating heat, and his masculine scent hit my nose, sending my head spinning. My heart was pounding so violently I couldn’t tell if it was mine or his. Without a word, he carried me straight into the bedroom and kicked the door shut with his foot.

The door sealed us in, cutting off every possible escape route. In that exact second, the realization finally hit me: I hadn’t come home today. I had walked right into the wolf’s den.