Wildly Seductive Man

A teenage crush

Her cheeks were burning hot, as if they had been scorched by fire. Grace Whitmore stared at the line written by Asher Knight, looking at it over and over.

[The world is like a giant claw machine, and there are people on the other side of the glass who only want you.]

This sentence was instantly etched into Grace Whitmore’s mind.

Who is this person?

Asher Knight?

Grace Whitmore shook her head. After all, he is Asher Knight.

The heir to a family with business interests across Europe, America, and Asia, and the founder and president of Celestial Bank, the largest private bank spanning Europe, America, and Asia.

The money he has is not just enough for eight years; it would last for eight hundred years!

Asher Knight and Grace Whitmore attended the same middle and high schools, but when Grace Whitmore was in middle school, Asher Knight was in high school.

During their school years, even if Grace Whitmore didn’t intentionally inquire, she often heard Asher Knight’s name.

“Asher Knight, a handsome guy, tall, the school heartthrob.”

“He’s not only good-looking and tall, but he’s also incredibly rich!”

“His family’s business is nothing compared to his, because his family owns a bank!”

“There’s a legend that his family’s toilet is made of pure gold, and even the toilet paper in the bathroom is gold-plated!”

“Will it be uncomfortable to wipe with gold-plated paper?”

“Not only is he rich, but he’s also the top student in the whole school!”

Asher Knight was always the most talked-about person among the girls during their school years; he was the crush of countless hearts.

When Grace Whitmore didn’t know Asher Knight yet, she had already remembered his name.

Whenever others discussed Asher Knight, Grace Whitmore would calmly flip through her book, keeping her eyes on the pages, although she wasn’t actually reading a word, while her ears were tuned in to every bit of information about Asher Knight.

Grace Whitmore’s first close encounter with Asher Knight was in the first year of middle school.

Grace Whitmore had always been exceptionally beautiful, standing out in a crowd. Whenever she appeared, she effortlessly attracted everyone’s attention.

At that time, there was a good-for-nothing troublemaker who was obsessively infatuated with Grace Whitmore. Even after Grace Whitmore made it clear that she rejected him, he continued to harass her.

On the way home from school, Grace Whitmore was cornered by the troublemaker in a narrow, dark alley.

When the troublemaker reached out to lift Grace Whitmore’s clothes, a strong force suddenly descended, and the troublemaker’s hand was restrained by a hand with bulging veins.

Grace Whitmore clearly remembered that following the hand with bulging veins, she saw a very handsome face with a sharply defined jawline, deep-set eyes, and a high nose-bridge, shining even brighter than the midday sun.

Asher Knight looked down from above, exuding a powerful aura, and gazed at the skinny, obviously underdeveloped troublemaker.

The young man in the white shirt said, “You think you’re worthwhile?”

His fingers tightened abruptly, and with a crunch, the five bones in the troublemaker’s hand were broken on the spot.

The troublemaker screamed with his mouth open, but before he could even say “ah,” his neck was tightly gripped by the hand with bulging veins, silencing him completely.

Asher Knight’s sharp, deep voice rang out, “Shh, don’t scream. You’ll scare her.”

Grace Whitmore looked up, her eyes dazed, at the young man in the white shirt, her heart feeling as though it had been struck heavily.

Asher Knight’s fingers tightened around the troublemaker’s neck, making his face turn purple.

He swiftly moved to the troublemaker’s back, his arm wrapping around the troublemaker’s neck, his muscle-filled arm forcing the troublemaker’s eyes to roll back. The troublemaker lost consciousness and fell heavily to the ground like a ragdoll, motionless.

Asher Knight withdrew his hand and casually twirled his wrist.

Grace Whitmore, shocked, asked, “Is he dead?”

Asher Knight, with a nonchalant tone, replied, “He won’t die immediately. The move I used was Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. It can cut off the blood circulation system instantly, leading to brain ischemia within five seconds and causing unconsciousness.”

Grace Whitmore listened to his professional explanation about Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, momentarily stunned.

So, not only is he academically gifted, but he’s also skilled in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, capable of defeating opponents with a single move.

She learned more about him.

That day, Grace Whitmore was escorted to her doorstep by Asher Knight.

Since then, the troublemaker has disappeared.

Moreover, from that day forward, Grace Whitmore would always encounter Asher Knight on her way to and from school, come rain or shine, for three whole years.

The reason it was three years was that Grace Whitmore started boarding school in high school.

During Grace Whitmore’s three years in middle school, she would often see this scene.

A young man in a white shirt and black pants, hands in pockets, walking not too close, not too far behind her.

From then on, no troublemaker dared to harass Grace Whitmore.

Grace Whitmore once wondered if Asher Knight followed her every day on purpose to protect her.

One day, she gathered the courage to ask Asher Knight when she saw him turn into the house next door.

Grace Whitmore had seen the owner of the neighboring house before, and it was not Asher Knight.

So, he was just a new neighbor, Grace Whitmore thought, and he was just walking the same route as her, not intentionally escorting her home.

She had been deluding herself.

A hint of disappointment passed through the girl’s heart.

As Grace Whitmore was lost in memories of her school days, Zoe’s loud voice burst through the phone.

“Hello, hello, hello! Babe, what’s wrong? I’ve been calling you for so long, why aren’t you saying anything?”

“Don’t scare me like this! Grace Whitmore, what’s going on? Are you thinking of committing suicide because of that scumbag, Ethan Cole?”

“Oh my god! My best friend is trying to kill herself!”

Zoe, who had been lying in bed, sprang up like a fish out of water as soon as she realized her best friend was in distress. She slipped into flip-flops, skipped wearing a bra, and rushed out the door to save her friend.

By the time she reached the apartment hallway in front of the elevator, Grace Whitmore finally spoke up on the other end of the line: “Zoe, I’m fine. I haven’t committed suicide.”

Zoe abruptly stopped in her tracks: “Babe, you scared me to death just now!”

“That scumbag, Ethan Cole, who trades affection for resources, is nothing but a pile of sh*t!”

Grace Whitmore: “…”

After Zoe had finished her tirade against the scumbag, her tone softened as she comforted Grace Whitmore.

“Babe, don’t keep thinking about that scumbag, Ethan Cole. He’s not worth your time.”

Grace Whitmore lowered her long lashes and saw the pink sticky note with the enticing message on it.

And the large, purple bruises from kisses.

Her hands and arms were covered in bruises, one after another.

The scenes from last night, when Asher Knight held her, pressed her, comforted her, and kissed her, flashed through Grace Whitmore’s mind.

The redness and heat in her face, which had just subsided, surged back with a vengeance.

Grace Whitmore pressed her still-swollen lips together: “I’m not thinking about Ethan Cole…”

Zoe was unconvinced: “Babe, you don’t have to lie to me. I know, right now your mind and heart are full of Ethan Cole.”

Grace Whitmore: “…It really isn’t like that…”

Zoe thought to herself: It seems my friend is really hurt this time; she’s even afraid to admit she’s thinking about Ethan Cole!

As a friend willing to go to great lengths, Zoe was concerned: “Babe, where are you now? I’ll come over to keep you company, cook for you, do your laundry, clean, buy snacks, eat with you, drink with you, and even sleep with you.”

If Zoe knew that the bruises on Grace Whitmore were from Ethan Cole’s uncle, she would have been amazed!

She might even shout: “Wow! Incredible! Grace Whitmore, you’re amazing!”

Grace Whitmore was about to insist on being alone when she heard Zoe say: “Babe, I’m coming over to your place now.” And with that, Zoe hung up the phone.

Grace Whitmore: “…” Fine.

Zoe walked back, suddenly realizing she had run out without a bra.

Caught up in her concern for her friend, she had jumped out of bed without thinking about wearing a bra.

At that moment, she was wearing only a purple silk camisole, which was half-transparent and clung to her body.

She really went all out to save her friend!

Zoe patted her chest, relieved that no one had seen her like that.

Just then, the elevator doors opened with a ding, and a tall, handsome man looked up and saw Zoe.

The man’s gaze swept over Zoe, clearly surprised by the sight that greeted him as soon as the elevator doors opened.

He raised an eyebrow: “Wow”

Zoe, flustered, raised her arms to cover her chest.

“Ah, ah, ah! Grace Whitmore, I’m having a public wardrobe malfunction because of you!”