Chapter Eighty-Two (Please continue to subscribe!)

"Should we deal with that woman—" As he spoke, his right hand formed a blade and drew an invisible line across his neck, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

Maria’s gaze flickered at his words. Her lips parted and closed several times, but in the end, she remained silent, as though falling into deep contemplation.

No one knew how much time passed before Maria finally looked up to see the three still standing there. She frowned, impatience coloring her voice.

"Why are you still here? Leave."

She turned her head away and waved her hand dismissively.

The three hesitated, until "Eyeballs" finally spoke.

"Miss, about this matter—"

"Go," Maria interrupted.

Realizing she had nothing more to say, the three filed out, each understanding that since the young lady gave no explanation, they were not to pry further. Clearly, she had her own plans.

Once they had gone, Maria rose and walked to the window, gazing into the pitch-black night. Her graceful silhouette was barely discernible in the wind, her fiery red curls flowing like flames.

A faint fragrance drifted to her nose. Maria looked down; in the night, a rose bloomed in vivid splendor on the windowsill. She regarded it for a moment, then slowly stretched out her right hand to gently stroke the delicate petals. Her emerald eyes were deep and unreadable—whatever she was thinking remained a mystery. Suddenly, her fingers clenched, and crimson petals crumbled in her palm.

The shrill ringing of a telephone shattered the silence.

"Hello."

"It’s me. I heard you’ve brought her to your villa?" The man’s voice on the other end was barely able to conceal his excitement.

"Yes," Maria replied coolly.

"So when will you deliver her? Tomorrow—are you free tomorrow? If not, I’ll come and fetch her myself." The man, reassured by her answer, no longer hid his eagerness, his voice rising with anticipation.

Maria’s lips curled with contempt. Hmph, just as expected—a filthy old lecher. The moment he heard the news, he could barely contain himself. Sooner or later, he’ll die at the hands of a woman!

"You’re too late," Maria said, reclining onto her bed with an air of indifference.

A stunned silence came from the other end, then, after a moment, "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said. You’re late—she’s no longer here."

"Who?!" the man demanded, his voice laced with hostility.

Maria could almost see him gnashing his teeth in frustration. With biting sarcasm, she replied, "Who do you think? Who else but the only person who comes and goes freely from my home?"

"Joseph Rivers! You again! You’ve ruined my plans once more! Just you wait!" the man spat, then abruptly changed tack, "And you—how could you let this happen? Can't you even keep an eye on one person?"

Maria’s placid expression darkened, a fleeting flash of malice in her eyes.

"My affairs are none of your concern," she hissed. "You are in no position to lecture me!"

"Hmph, you wretched woman. Don’t be so full of yourself. You think Rivers will still want you once he finds out what you’ve done? Don’t kid yourself!"

"My business is none of yours. If you still wish to cooperate, then mind your place," Maria’s icy tone cut through the receiver, causing the man to pause.

"Don’t think I’m afraid of you, Maria Spencer!"

"Oh, so you do remember my name. Then don’t forget what the Spencer family is capable of," Maria said, and with a decisive "click," hung up, paying the repulsive man no further heed.

Bang! The phone was hurled to the ground, shattering into pieces.

"Damn woman! Don’t think you can get rid of me so easily! Isn’t there a saying in China—‘It’s easy to invite a god, but hard to send him away’? Hmph!"

As he fumed, he suddenly felt a warmth at his back—a soft, boneless body entwined itself around him, warm breath caressing his neck, sending a shiver up his spine. The owner of the lithe form wasn’t satisfied with just that—her delicate hands traced lazy circles across his chest, and her heated lips grazed his sensitive earlobe as she cooed in a sweet, coquettish voice,

"Darling, it’s time to rest."

His whole body seemed to melt, blood surging with desire. With a quick movement, he turned, pressing the woman beneath him on the bed, his breath ragged.

"You little minx, let’s see how I deal with you!"

In the woman’s eyes flashed a deep disgust and revulsion, but she feigned enjoyment, playing along with the man’s advances.

Beneath the same night sky, in different places, different people played out the dramas of their own lives.

In Castle Lilith, Shadowmoon was luxuriating in the massage tub, her tired body and mind finally relaxing after a long day, sighing with contentment.

Her entire body was submerged beneath snowy white foam, violet petals floating atop, infusing the air with their delicate fragrance.

Arthur, having taken a quick shower, slipped into Shadowmoon’s room, not even pausing to dry his hair.

The steamy air was filled with floral scent. Arthur’s heart fluttered as he walked softly toward Shadowmoon. The maid, seeing Arthur approach, bent her knee to curtsy, but Arthur quickly gestured for silence, signaling her to leave. He then quietly approached Shadowmoon’s side.

"Susan, massage my shoulders for me. I’m so sore after today," Shadowmoon’s gentle voice drifted through the steam.

A flash of tenderness crossed Arthur’s eyes, quickly replaced by a mischievous smile. He silently picked up a bottle of essential oil, warmed it between his palms, and began to knead her petite shoulders, as if he were an innocent little rabbit, completely unawares.

Everywhere his hands passed was soft, smooth, and delicate. Her pale, dainty shoulders appeared and disappeared in the mist, exuding a subtle allure. Arthur’s cheeks flushed, but he continued carefully, soothing away the day’s fatigue.

Shadowmoon’s brows knitted slightly as she murmured, "Susan, you’ve improved a lot. You’re pressing exactly where it aches—it feels much better than usual."

Arthur watched her intently, not missing a single subtle shift in her expression. Seeing her so relaxed and content, the corners of his lips curved up.

"Teach me this technique tomorrow, won’t you? I’ll give His Highness a good massage and let him experience it himself," Shadowmoon said, her cheeks turning pink as her voice grew softer.

Arthur’s eyes gleamed with delight, but his hands lost their rhythm, and he pressed too hard—

"Ouch, that hurts!" Shadowmoon cried, suddenly opening her eyes and glancing behind her.

"Ah—" The sight startled her.

"Arthur, why—you? How can it be you?" Shadowmoon’s almond-shaped eyes widened in shock, her mouth forming a perfect "O".

Arthur gave her a roguish smile, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Why not me?"

"But, you’re the Duke! How can you do such a thing?" Shadowmoon stammered, her violet eyes darting everywhere but at Arthur, her fair cheeks flushed crimson.

Arthur chuckled, gently holding her chin and turning her face to his, meeting her gaze with unwavering intensity.

"Lanlan, I want you to know—anything I can do for you, I will. Even the things I can’t, I’ll strive to make them possible."

You are my life’s pursuit.

"So, whatever happens, promise me you’ll tell me first. Don’t make me worry, all right?"

Shadowmoon stared at Arthur’s earnest, loving expression for a long time before breaking into a radiant smile and nodding vigorously. "Okay, I understand."

Arthur smiled warmly at her response. Seeing her cheeks so pink and fresh, like a ripe, dewy apple, he couldn’t help but gulp audibly. Then, he bent down and planted a big, noisy kiss on her cheek.

Shadowmoon froze, feeling a coolness on her skin. She touched her cheek and felt the wetness in her palm. Her eyes shifted in secret, just out of Arthur’s sight, then—

"Ew—" she cried in exaggerated disgust, "Your drool is all over my face! You’ve ruined my face mask!"

She peeked at Arthur from the corner of her eye, noting how his face darkened at her words, and burst out laughing.

"Ha! I tricked you!"

Shadowmoon laughed until her sides hurt. Arthur pretended to be annoyed, yet his eyes sparkled with affection.

"Oh, so you dare tease me? Let’s see how you like this!" With that, Arthur lunged at her, tickling her relentlessly.

"Alright, alright! I give in!" Shadowmoon finally surrendered, unable to withstand his ‘assault.’

"My stomach hurts from laughing—fine, I admit defeat," she said, raising both hands in surrender.

Arthur eyed her smugly, keeping his hands under her arms, just in case.

"I won’t dare again, I swear."

"That’s better. Come on, you’ve been in the bath long enough—the water must be getting cold."

"It’s fine, it’s a temperature-controlled tub," Shadowmoon protested, settling back into the water.

"No, you’ve soaked long enough. Even if the water is warm, it’s bad for your skin—it’ll wrinkle," Arthur chided her seriously.

With a splash, Shadowmoon suddenly stood up, "Oh no, I almost forgot!"

Arthur was momentarily stunned by the sight of her smooth, fair back, his gaze inevitably wandering lower, and two warm streams shot from his nostrils.

He quickly turned away, grabbing a tissue to wipe his nosebleed before turning back, composed, to fetch a towel from the rack and wrap her tightly.

"Silly girl, don’t do that again. What if you caught a cold?"

Shadowmoon stuck out her tongue. "Got it."

Arthur scooped her up and carried her out of the bathroom, gently placing her on the bed. He then retrieved a hairdryer from the drawer and began to dry her hair with care.

Shadowmoon closed her eyes, enjoying Arthur’s attentiveness. Arthur smiled at her languid contentment.

"Lanlan, Yu will be coming tomorrow."

———Author’s Note———

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