The moment his gaze landed on me, his eyes lit up. “Shen Phan, I have good news.”

The words caught in his throat. His gaze dropped, locking onto the plastic woven sack slung over my shoulder. The air between us instantly froze solid.

“…What is the meaning of this? Were you planning to run away?”

I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole. Of all the absolute worst times to get caught mid-escape, this was legendary. I stammered helplessly, “Well… I guess… I already know your good news. So I packed my stuff… to get out of your hair.”

I tightened my grip on the sack, turning to beat a hasty retreat, terrified that if I saw the relief on his face, I’d lose the strength to leave. But as I tried to brush past him, a hand clamped firmly around my wrist. With a swift, unyielding tug, I was pulled straight into his lap, forced to sit right across his thighs.

An emergency siren blared in my head: His legs are paralyzed! If I sit on him like this, am I going to snap whatever’s left of them?! But then again, if he was already “incapable”… how much worse could it really get?

“Shen Phan, do you really want to leave me?” His voice was laced with urgent panic.

“You said it yourself,” I mustered the courage to look him dead in the eye. “You said once you healed, I’d be the first person you’d kick out. You were always on guard against me, and I knew it. All that fake affection was just an act for everyone else, wasn’t it? I’ll go somewhere far away so I won’t bother you anymore.”

I made a move to stand, but his arms instantly locked around me, pulling me flush against his chest.

“You’re not going anywhere! You’re my wife!” His voice trembled violently. And then, the most unthinkable thing happened: he… cried. Tears began streaming down his face like a downpour. “Wife… please don’t abandon me… sob…”

Panic surged through me, and I frantically wiped the tears from his cheeks. “What are you doing?! You were literally suspecting me two seconds ago, and now you’re acting like the victim?!”

He seized the opening instantly. “Then stay! Don’t leave!”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but in the end, I nodded. Who in their right mind would willingly give up a life of luxury anyway? I leaned down and planted a soft kiss on his cheek to soothe him. Instantly, he preened like a cat having its fur stroked.

I tried to stand up again, but he kept his arms wrapped tightly around my waist.

“Your legs!” I yelped nervously.

In the very next second, I was scooped straight up into his arms. He stood up. On. Both. Legs.

I stared at him, dumbfounded. “You faked being paralyzed???”

“Surprised?” He looked at me, his eyes brimming with anticipation.

My expression darkened as I asked slowly, “So… the part about you being ‘incapable’… was that fake too?”

He froze, his eyes instantly brimming with red again.

“Stop! Don’t you dare cry! I get it!” I surrendered immediately.

It turned out the entire act was a elaborate charade to keep his uncle off his guard. He leaned close to my ear, his tone dipping into something thick and dangerous. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure a little pervert like you is thoroughly satisfied. I’ll keep you well-fed.”

My face flushed crimson as I shrieked, “I am NOT a pervert!!!”

Than Ngon let out a low, husky laugh. The deep, raspy sound echoed right against my ear, sending a sharp shiver straight down my spine. The large hands that had always been cool to the touch were suddenly hot as fire, slipping behind my neck and ruthlessly closing the distance between our faces.

“You say no, but why are you trembling so much?”

Without waiting for an answer, he leaned down and caught my earlobe between his teeth, nipping gently with sharp, cool friction. A lightning bolt of electric heat shot through me, turning my knees to jelly. Before I could catch my breath, his arm clamped tight around my waist, pinning me to him on that narrow wheelchair until there wasn’t a sliver of space left between us. The searing heat radiating from his chest bled straight through my thin clothes, setting my frantically racing heart ablaze.

“Shen Phan, for nearly a year… you’ve been parading around in front of me, carrying me, kissing me, touching me, smelling me… Did you honestly think I was a saint?”

He tore down my defenses completely with a fierce, ravenous kiss. His tongue swept in with greedy authority, entangling with mine as if attempting to swallow my very breath whole. His large hands moved without hesitation, sliding beneath the hem of my dress to grip my hips tightly, forcing me to feel the firm, searing heat of the legs he had so painstakingly hidden for so long.

Under the dim light, the wheelchair rocked softly beneath our shifting weight. He seized both of my hands, guiding them up to wrap around his neck, keeping my body pressed flat against the firm, sculpted wall of his chest as it heaved with heavy, ragged breaths. The intense friction between our layers of clothing turned my mind into a complete blank. The terrifying feeling of instability atop the swivel chair made me instinctively cling to him for dear life, only for that fear to be instantly consumed by a wild, unprecedented wave of thrill as I felt the raw “danger” throbbing beneath me.

“Tonight, I’m going to show you what belonging to a powerful family actually means.”

He issued the low, gravelly command, his hands invading deeper, recklessly stripping away my final barriers. I arched my back instinctively, burying my face into the crook of his neck, my stifled whimpers swallowed up by the heavy, mingled rhythm of our breathless gasps. Every sharp collision, every time his grip tightened on my waist, carried the scorching intensity of a man who had been starved for far too long.

The plastic woven sack and my grand escape plan were thrown completely out the window. In that dimly lit corner of the room, the wheelchair became silent witness to the wild, unrestrained claim of a wolf finally shedding its sheep’s clothing. Pho Than Ngon used undeniable action to prove that he wasn’t just “capable”, he was going to melt me down, leaving me trembling in his arms until I didn’t even have the breath left to utter a word.

In no time at all, I was stripped bare, while he remained impeccably dressed in his tailored suit.

His expensive white dress shirt was barely rumpled, save for a slight crease at the hem.

The sharp contrast made me feel impossibly small, entirely exposed. He looked like a cool, rational deity in total control, while I was merely a melting sacrifice beneath his touch.

His hands, adorned with a luxurious wristwatch, clamped firmly around my hips, creating a deliciously wicked contrast of cold metal against burning, flush skin.

Unhurried, he used one hand to loosen his tie. Rather than taking it off, he used the sleek length of silk to bind my wrists together, pinning them above my head. His dark eyes appraised me coolly, as if admiring a piece of art he had painstakingly sculpted with his own hands.

“Than Ngon… take your shirt off…” I sobbed softly. The sheer vulnerability of being completely bare beneath the heavy, imposing stare of a fully dressed man filled me with a heady mix of shame and trembling arousal.

“No,” he whispered against my ear, his hot breath fanning across my bare shoulder. “I prefer looking at you like this. I want you to see clearly that no matter how dignified I appear on the outside, the man making you cry and beg right now… is still me.”

With that, he lifted me up and brought me down without a shred of mercy. The friction of his rough suit trousers against the sensitive skin of my inner thighs stung sharply, yet ignited a strange, intoxicating rush of pleasure.

My knees began to give out, my entire body going weak like a bowstring stretched to its absolute limit. I clung desperately to his shoulders, my heavy panting degrading into soft, breathless whimpers against his ear.

“Than Ngon… please don’t… I’m tired… I can’t take anymore… spare me…”

I pleaded softly, feebly trying to push against his shoulders, my moisture-rimmed eyes wide with silent begging.

He leaned down, biting gently at my earlobe, his breath thick with dark intent. “Want me to spare you? Fine. Coax me first.”

Hearing his provocative demand, a stubborn spark suddenly flared up inside me. I abruptly pushed myself up, boldly flipping the script to sit firmly atop him, setting a deliberate, rhythmic, and teasing pace of my own.

Pho Than Ngon inhaled sharply, the veins on his forehead bulging instantly. His eyes darkened into a dangerous, storm-like hue, brimming with dark possessiveness and sheer satisfaction.

I leaned down low, letting my long hair cascade over his chest. I began to trace my soft tongue lightly across the rock-hard contours of his chest muscles, gliding over his most sensitive skin. Feeling his entire body go rigid beneath my touch, a quiet smile touched my lips.

“Hubby… do you feel coaxed enough now?”

My voice dripped like honey into his ear, even as my body maintained its relentless, intoxicating rhythm against him. Pho Than Ngon let out a low, guttural grunt, draped a thin blanket over my shoulders, and suddenly scooped me straight into his arms, striding purposefully toward the kitchen.

“Ah… What… what are you doing?!” I gasped in sheer panic.