It was him.
The absurdity of that night came rushing back into Lu Zhiling’s mind — the closed room, the suffocating air, her clothes torn to shreds.
He had been like a beast in the dark, devouring everything in his path.
Each breath he took was heavy and scorching, and under that oppressive weight, her fragile world had shattered into ashes.
As those memories surfaced, Lu Zhiling’s face turned pale. Panic seized her heart. She turned, trying to run — but a strong hand seized her wrist.
…
Feng Chao and Hua Ping were gone.
Before she could even process what was happening, Lu Zhiling was dragged into a long, luxurious RV. Her body hit the soft leather seat, and hands on either side pinned her arms down.
The unfamiliar space, the silence — it pressed against her chest, making it hard to breathe. Fear coiled in her stomach, and the tension inside the car felt suffocating.
She didn’t even dare to draw in a full breath. Cold sweat trickled down her forehead.
Suddenly, someone grabbed her foot.
“Don’t touch me—!”
Her voice trembled uncontrollably, a startled whisper of defiance.
“Shh.”
Across from her, Bo Wang sat lazily, his eyes lowered as he toyed with her delicate foot in his hand. His voice was low and husky, gentle yet dangerous — a tone that carried both mockery and seduction.
“How pitiful,” he murmured. “It hurts me just to see it like this.”
Her skin was pale as jade, her toes small and perfectly shaped — fragile, exquisite, like an artist’s masterpiece.
A pity that such beauty was marred by dirt and blood.
“…”
Lu Zhiling’s entire body tensed. It felt as if her foot was being dipped into boiling oil, yet she couldn’t break free.
Outside the vehicle, Butler Wen Da stood quietly by the door, his expression unreadable. (In wealthy Chinese households, a butler often acts as both an attendant and a silent observer — never speaking out of turn unless authorized.)
Inside, Bo Wang calmly opened a sleek medical kit, took out a cotton swab, and began cleaning the blood from her foot.
His movements were slow, deliberate, almost tender. His dark eyes stayed fixed on her skin, his expression devoid of any visible emotion — as though the world had narrowed down to the fragile foot resting in his palm.
But Wen Da knew better.
He knew his young master was not a man who did good deeds without reason.
Clearing his throat, Wen Da finally spoke, his tone respectful but edged with coldness.
“Miss Lu, I’m sure you already understand our purpose. We simply wish to confirm the identity of the father of your unborn child.”
At that, color rose to Lu Zhiling’s ears. Shame, anger, and fear tangled in her chest, yet she pressed her lips tightly together and said nothing.
A month ago, in that nightclub, she had still been a virgin — Bo Wang, of all people, should know that better than anyone.
Now, just one month later, she was pregnant… and they were asking such a question? Did they think she had been with another man?
But of course, whether she had or not didn’t matter. If they were asking, it meant they already had a plan in mind.
Sure enough, Wen Da continued with polite detachment, “We’ll be taking Miss Lu to the Bo family’s private hospital for recuperation.”
She froze.
The Bo family’s hospital?
Everyone in Jiangbei knew the rule — children born into the Bo family could not be illegitimate. (In Chinese upper-class families, lineage and inheritance are taken with utmost seriousness; “illegitimate” heirs are considered stains on family honor.)
If they were sending her there, it wasn’t for protection. It was to ensure that this child would never be born.
So that earlier question — it had just been to humiliate her.
Lu Zhiling struggled to steady her breathing. Her voice came out hoarse, trembling but resolute.
“Mr. Bo, that night… the trap set by Feng Chao and Hua Ping had nothing to do with me. I never intended to extort money from anyone.”
“…”
Bo Wang didn’t respond. He continued tending to her wound, his touch gentle — too gentle — as if handling something precious. His brows remained calm, his expression unreadable. It was impossible to tell if he even heard her.
“I don’t want this child either,” she went on, her voice barely a whisper now, desperate and fragile. “But the doctor said I can’t have an abortion. Please… just let me live. I’ll leave, I’ll disappear. I’ll never return to Country . No one will ever know that the Bo family’s eldest son has an illegitimate child.”
Her plea was quiet, but the raw emotion behind it made it almost unbearable to hear.
Then, before she could finish her breath — pain lanced through her foot.
“Ah—!”
Bo Wang pressed the cotton swab deep into her wound, deliberately cruel. As blood welled up again, he finally raised his eyes to look at her.
Her face had gone white from the pain.
His thin lips curved upward in a cold, cutting smile.
“So,” he murmured, his voice low and mocking, “you’re claiming innocence now?”
“…”
“Unfortunately for you,” he continued, each word as sharp as a knife, “I, Bo Wang, don’t believe there’s a single child in this world that can’t be aborted.”