JINHAI’S POV

After she walked out on me that night, I told myself I wouldn’t look for her. I told myself I was done with the ache she left behind. So when she appeared at my door, beaten and soaked through, a phantom under the rain, I thought I was still dreaming.

She stood on the threshold shivering, rain clinging to her lashes, a thin line of blood crusted at her hairline. The hallway light stripped her of color, turned her into something brittle and breakable.

"Leave us, Jing," I said, my gaze never leaving her. I waited until the soft slap of Jing’s footsteps faded.

She swallowed, throat working. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. I didn’t know if it was shame, or because both of hers were ringed in purple. Maybe this was simply her way of surviving, look anywhere but at the man who could ruin you.

"Look at me, Jeneta." My voice came out quieter than I intended, but heavier too, as if each word had weight. When she finally lifted her face, it was only for a heartbeat. The moment her lips parted to speak, her gaze slid away again, skittering across the room like a startled animal.

"I—" She started and stalled, chest rising too fast, breath catching on the edges of vowels. "I… I—"

Her eyes swept the corners of the foyer, too careful. As if she suspected someone was out there, ready to pull it down on her. Someone dangerous.

How did I know she didn’t mean me?

"Jenny speak." It came out sharper than I meant, my voice deep and grounded, the kind people obey even against their better judgment.

Her gaze collided with mine and fled, fear flashing across her face like a bird startled into flight.

"I’ll do it." The words scraped out of her. "I—I’ll be your woman." She forced it out like swallowing glass, and shame lit her eyes from within. I could almost hear the echo of everything that drove her here.

I already knew. I’d received word her family had settled what they owed everyone but her. After everything she’d done for them. Of course she was furious and it sat on her like a second skin. Even now, even looking at me, the fury shimmered beneath the bruises.

"I’ll be your woman," she repeated, as if making it real would make it easier. "What do I need to do? I—" She stammered, and it unnerved me, how her eyes couldn’t hold mine for even ten seconds without breaking.

Silence pooled between us almost viscous. The only sound was the rain. Her clothes dripped steadily, leaving trails from the door to her feet.

I cleared my throat, searching for something practical to cling to.

"Why don’t we start by getting rid of those clothes before anything else."

Her head snapped up. Her eyes flared. "What? Immediately?"

I froze mid-breath, the world narrowing to the panic in her eyes. "What? No!" I raked a hand through my hair, felt the heat of embarrassment rise. "I meant changing out of the wet things. Into something dry. You… can change yourself."

"Oh." She blinked, the tension in her shoulders easing by a thread. "Right." For a fleeting moment, she met my eyes those deep brown irises finally steadying on me and held that look long enough to say, very softly, "Thank you."

"Jing will show you to the guest room," I said. She nodded, small and careful, as if a larger movement might shatter her.

Later, in my office, I sat with my back to the room, watching the glass turn the night outside into a living mirror. Rain braided down the windows in silver threads. I should have been reading contracts, clearing my inbox, tearing through documents.

Instead, all I saw was her. The bruised orbit of her eyes, the faint tremor in her hands and the cut marking her forehead.

I hated her family for what they did to her. I hated them for taking her face, her livelihood and treating it like collateral.

But what right did I have to storm her world and offer justice she hadn’t asked for? I only had the right to keep my word. I’d promised her something and now she was here. She was mine.

Was she?

Her eyes had looked at me like I was a cage.

A soft knock threaded through the rain, and the door cracked open.

Jing stepped inside. "Mr. Liu, Miss Agu has settled for the night. The nightdress is… nice on her."

Something in me tightened and then released. "That’s all, Jing. Thank you."

Under the shower’s steam, I braced my palms against tile and let the water carve through the sleeplessness. The heat drummed against my shoulders and pounded at the stiffness in my neck but it didn’t touch the image in my head. The image of Jeneta standing in my doorway like a shipwrecked thing, hair plastered to her skull, pupils blown wide.

I closed my eyes and the spray stung my face. For a breath, I could almost feel the frail shiver of her frame against me, the fissure in her voice when she said.

"I’ll be your woman."

Victory should have tasted like honey. Instead it tasted like iron. She feared me.

The thought raked through my chest. She didn’t choose me, she chose survival. Her eyes had told me the truth her mouth refused. And yet, beneath the guilt, something darker coiled, deep satisfaction and relief that she was under my roof where the world couldn’t touch her without permission.

I dragged a hand over my hair and exhaled. What I wanted from her was unlike anything I’d wanted before. It burned. It was hunger, yes, but threaded with possession and an urge to protect that bordered on savage.

An obsession that started the first time I saw her walk the runway and it hadn’t let me go since.

I stepped from the shower and toweled off, the heat bleeding into the cool air of the dressing room.

I chose the charcoal Brioni, its lines exacting; a white silk shirt, a navy tie.

At the watch case, my fingers hovered over complications that mapped the sky. I took the Patek Philippe Grand Complication. The strap settled around my wrist with a soft refusal.

By the time I reached my office, Xiao was already there with a tablet. "Good morning, Mr. Liu."

"Wire two million yuan into Jeneta Agu’s account," I said, lowering myself into the chair.

Xiao’s eyes flicked up, surprised but then he typed. "Yes, sir."

"And," I added, feeling the decision click into place, "Hua’s agency has a trip coming up. Is Jeneta on the list?"

"No, s—"

"Put her on the Dubai roster. They’re sending the top models. She’ll be one of them."

A beat of silence. Xiao’s curiosity brushed the air and then withdrew. "Understood. I’ll handle it immediately."

I leaned back, laced my fingers, and looked at the city unfurling. Power has always been simple for me. Money, simpler. But none of it moved the needle where she was concerned. Not if every time she looked at me, it was through a veil of fear.

I wanted those eyes to kindle when they found me. I wanted steadiness instead of flinch, truth instead of avoidance. I wanted her to choose me, someday, when there was no storm at her back.

And until that day, I would build the world for her carefully, without breaking what was left of her. I would make it so.