Chapter 5
981 Words
Once Serena got home, she swiftly pulled a contraceptive pill from the drawer and swallowed it.
She would never allow any man's seed to linger inside her. To her, this was all just a game—nothing more.
She wasn't about to leave herself with any unwanted complications.
In the bathroom, she scrubbed her body fiercely with the loofah, the bruises and marks across her pale chest stinging her eyes with irritation.
Never before had she allowed a man to leave marks on her skin, let alone let one inside her without protection.
This was new. Unacceptable.
She scrubbed harder, as if trying to erase the evidence of the night from her body, but under the hot water, her skin burned from the effort.
Glancing at the mirror on the wall, she let out a defeated sigh and threw the loofah into the bathtub.
It seemed she'd be lying low for a while. There was no way she'd go out looking for fun with another man while bearing marks from the last one—it would feel like cheating on her nonexistent husband. She scoffed at the thought.
Serena dried herself off with a towel and stepped out of the bathroom, completely naked.
Sitting back in her chair, her legs elegantly crossed, she gazed out of the floor-to-ceiling window at the city lights.
She caught sight of her own reflection in the glass—a lonely, forlorn figure. A self-mocking smile tugged at her lips.
Lighting a cigarette, she took a deep drag, blowing out thin streams of smoke, her face pensive.
Someone once told her there were three things a woman could never buy for herself: a car, a house, and a ring.
But she had bought all three for herself.
In her mind, no woman had the automatic right to such luxuries just by virtue of being born female.
She preferred this life—free, with no strings attached. Men? They were nothing more than distractions to pass the time when boredom struck.
Getting up, she moved to the liquor cabinet and poured herself a glass of red wine.
She took another drag of her cigarette before pressing it out in the ashtray.
Walking barefoot on the smooth wooden floor, she swirled the wine in her glass, twirling around the room in a languid dance.
Her slim waist, her bouncing breasts, her sultry eyes—all radiated a natural allure. But it was a dance for one. No audience, no applause.
When the wine was finally finished, her face flushed with a light pink glow, Serena collapsed back into her chair.
Maybe it was the exhaustion from the night, but by midnight, a rare drowsiness overtook her.
For the first time in what felt like forever, she fell into a deep sleep.
In her hazy dreams, the faint scent of cologne wafted into her senses—a comforting, soothing fragrance.
The world outside grew quiet, the night settling into a calm stillness. The stars flickered faintly in the sky.
Dawn broke, and with it, a new day. As the sunlight spilled into the room, Serena's long, delicate lashes fluttered before her eyes opened.
Her full lips glistened in the light, her naked body stretched lazily across the white tatami mat like a cat waking from a restful nap.
The room was stark white, with no hint of color anywhere, as if the entire space were blanketed in snow.
For a moment, she sat there, dazed, before springing up and dashing into the bathroom.
Half an hour later, Serena emerged, dressed sharply for work.
A few minutes later, her fiery red car roared out of the garage, speeding toward her destination.
Pulling into the underground parking lot, Serena glanced at the clock. Almost late.
She let out a small sigh of frustration and hurried into the nearest elevator.
Just as she was about to hit the "close" button, a large hand shot through the door.
"Wait, wait for me!" Julien's voice called out as he rushed inside, panting for breath.
"Sorry about that," he said, squeezing into the elevator. It was his first day, and he didn't want to leave a bad impression.
When Julien realized who else was in the elevator, his face lit up with excitement. "Babe, we are meeting again!"
Serena, on the other hand, merely shot him a cold glance before turning her head away.
She was carefree when it came to men, but she had a firm rule: never mix business with pleasure.
Because the elevator was packed with people rushing to work, Julien subtly raised his arm, creating a protective barrier around her.
A faint scent of tobacco drifted into her nose, and Serena allowed herself a small smile of appreciation.
She also made sure to nudge him away gently when his hard body pressed a little too closely against her.
"Babe, you're looking so gorgeous today, I'm dizzy," Julien whispered, leaning in closer as another wave of people crowded the elevator.
He leaned in to nip at her earlobe, his breath warm against her neck.
"Is that so?" Serena's smile was sweet, but her eyes glinted with irritation.
Whatever goodwill she had felt for him a moment ago evaporated. Lifting her foot just slightly, the heel of her stiletto found its mark on his foot, and she gave it a good twist for extra measure.
Julien bit down on his lip to stifle a groan of pain, but the mischievous smile remained on his face.
With a small grunt, he shifted his jacket to cover the little corner of the elevator and slid his hand up her smooth leg, his fingers dancing over her skin as though playing a piano.
Her eyes narrowed, warning him with a sharp look, but under the cover of his jacket, Serena's hand shot out and grabbed hold of his heated manhood, squeezing it hard.
"Ah—!"
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