A Dinner She Wasn’t Allowed to Lose Control At
Inside the private dining room, the atmosphere was thick with forced politeness and clinking glasses. Su Nian’en had never been good at this kind of business dinner. Drinking was unavoidable—but what made it worse was that Jason, AFO’s lead designer, kept refilling her glass. He leaned closer each time, repeating in clumsy, broken Chinese, “Drink. Drink. Drink.” Drink your head. Did he think this was juice? This was high-proof liquor. One real sip and she’d be flat on the floor. She pressed her lips together, unease crawling up her spine. Earlier, this same man had claimed he was “unwell” and skipped the site inspection altogether. Now? He was drinking like he’d found new life—especially with the way his deep blue eyes stayed fixed on her. Too fixed. Too deliberate. There was som
- Writer
