Big beads of sweat rolled down Lu Zhiling’s forehead, one after another.
Bo Wang held her slender foot in one hand, his grip firm, and with the other, he reached out lazily.
The bodyguard beside him immediately understood and handed him a dagger—its sheath already drawn.
Bo Wang sat back on the leather seat, placing the cold blade flat against the arch of her foot. Slowly, deliberately, he slid it upward. The sharp edge traced along the smooth line of her calf, gliding against her skin with a dangerous sort of leisure. His narrow, phoenix-shaped eyes gleamed with morbid excitement, like a predator savoring the moment before a kill.
“It just so happens,” his voice was low, almost amused, “that I’ve never seen a woman’s insides before. They must be more delicate than a man’s…”
A chill crept through Lu Zhiling’s entire body.
Was he… going to dissect her alive?
Her breath hitched, her trembling uncontrollable. “No, please… don’t…”
Though she had been kept under house arrest for the past five years, she had still heard of Bo Wang’s name—whispered like a curse across the upper circles of society.
Bo Wang—twenty-five years old, the eldest son and heir of the Bo family, head of the powerful Bo Consortium in Country K. From birth, he was the pride of the family, the golden child destined for greatness.
Until tragedy struck.
When he was five, a car accident took his mother’s life. He vanished from the wreckage without a trace.
By the time the Bo family found him again, fifteen years later, he was no longer the boy they remembered. He had become a street thug working for an underground casino, eyes cold and full of violence.
Since returning, he had only grown more uncontrollable—every scandal occured inthe city tied to his name alone. He had all the arrogance of a rich second-generation (fuerdai—a slang term for the spoiled children of the wealthy) but with a ruthlessness even they feared to own.
He flirted with female celebrities and discarded them like toys, brutalized subordinates who displeased him, and once beat a councilman so badly the man was left permanently crippled. Reckless on the road, he crashed cars like they were toys, each incident more outrageous than the last.
The Bo family had been forced to release a public statement diagnosing him with mental illness, just to quiet the rumors and keep him out of prison.
Lu Zhiling knew his reputation as the infamous madman of the Bo family—but she hadn’t imagined he was this twisted.
She was the only one left in the Lu family.
She couldn’t die here. Not like this.
She tried to pull back, but his grip on her foot tightened like iron. The cold edge of the dagger kissed her skin again, tracing upward—until suddenly, it hooked beneath the hem of her white dress…
Lu Zhiling froze. Her breathing stopped, her face drained of all color.
“Master.”
A calm voice broke the suffocating silence.
The dagger halted midair.
At the car door stood Wen Da, the Bo family’s old housekeeper. He had just lowered his phone and said respectfully, “The Old Madam called. She instructed you not to make a mess of things. She wants you to marry Miss Lu as soon as possible. The child of the Bo family must be born into the family with dignity.”
Bo Wang’s lips curved into a mocking smile. “Am I crazy, or is the Old Madam losing her mind—forcing me to marry a woman who schemed her way into my bed?”
“I’ll handle it myself,” he added coldly.
Lu Zhiling, who had been moments away from “being handled,” seized the brief distraction to yank her foot back.
The silk blindfold that had been covering her eyes slipped loose.
A sharp white light pierced her vision. It stung.
She froze, dazed, her breath catching in disbelief. The world—once pitch-black and silent—was now veiled in a soft white mist.
And within that mist… she saw him.
The faint outline of a man slowly came into view, his figure hazy, like a silhouette carved from moonlight.
Her heart stopped.
Her eyes… could see?
He sat sideways, his profile sharp and indistinct, like a mountain ridge blurred by fog. She blinked hard, desperate to see more clearly—but the mist refused to part.
Outside the car, Wen Da continued dutifully, “Three days from now is an auspicious date. The Old Madam said she will personally arrange the wedding and oversee all the necessary rituals for you.”
This old woman she even dared to plan that far.
Bo Wang twirled the dagger in his hand, his expression darkly amused. “Come here, then. Tell me that again—right to my face.”
Wen Da glanced at the dagger’s gleam and felt cold sweat trickle down his back. A chill crawled up his neck, but he steeled himself.
“Young Master,” he said, voice shaking but resolute, “even if you kill me today, I must still deliver her words. The Old Madam said… if you refuse, she and the Old Master will hang themselves right in front of your door.”
Bo Wang’s expression turned stiff, color draining from his face.
“And this…” Wen Da quickly held up his phone. “The Old Madam said if you see this, you’ll agree to the marriage.”
He passed the phone to Bo Wang.
Bo Wang glanced down coldly. His eyes darkened as the screen flickered—and his expression slowly froze.