Chapter 7 The Other Woman
761 Words
Morning sunlight streamed through the French windows, yet Shen Zhiwei felt no warmth.
All night, she had tossed and turned, replaying the moment Gu Chenghan’s lips had brushed her hand. His words still rang in her ears:
“I don’t share. Not food. Not power. Not you.”
Her cheeks burned at the memory. She wanted to hate him, to push him out of her mind—but her body betrayed her, trembling whenever she thought of the way his eyes had burned into hers.
She cursed under her breath and threw herself into cooking, trying to drive him out of her thoughts.
By noon, she carried a plate of delicately steamed fish to the dining hall.
Gu Chenghan was already seated, scrolling through his phone, his expression as cold as ever. Yet when his gaze lifted to her, something flickered in his eyes.
Before she could place the dish, the doors swung open.
“Chenghan.”
The voice was soft, elegant, laced with familiarity.
Shen Zhiwei froze.
A woman walked in, tall and poised, dressed in designer silk that clung to her curves. Her long hair cascaded over her shoulders, her makeup flawless. Every step she took dripped with confidence—the kind only someone born and raised in privilege could wear like a crown.
“Yuyan,” Gu Chenghan said smoothly, rising to his feet.
The name struck Shen Zhiwei like a blow.
So he could smile. For her.
Her chest tightened as the woman approached and leaned in to kiss him lightly on the cheek. “It’s been too long,” Yuyan purred. “Father said I should check on you. I’m glad I did.”
Shen Zhiwei’s hands clenched around the porcelain plate until her knuckles whitened.
“Who is she?” Yuyan asked suddenly, eyes flicking to Shen Zhiwei.
Gu Chenghan’s expression didn’t waver. “My private chef.”
Yuyan arched a brow, lips curving in a knowing smile. “Private chef? Is that what they’re called now?”
Laughter rippled between them—low, intimate, cutting.
Heat surged to Shen Zhiwei’s face. She wanted to scream that she wasn’t what Yuyan implied. She wanted to slam the plate down and storm out.
Instead, she placed the fish carefully in front of Gu Chenghan, then stepped back, her voice tight. “Dinner is served.”
“Stay,” Gu Chenghan commanded, his gaze locking onto hers.
Her breath caught. “Why?”
“Because I said so.”
The meal stretched on like t*****e. Yuyan sat close to him, her hand brushing his arm, her laughter filling the hall. She spoke of galas, of business alliances, of family expectations. She painted a world Shen Zhiwei could never step into again.
And through it all, Gu Chenghan listened in silence, his expression unreadable.
But every so often, his gaze flicked to Shen Zhiwei—quick, sharp, burning.
She looked away each time, her heart pounding harder.
When Yuyan finally rose to leave, she touched his hand, her voice sweet. “Don’t make me wait too long next time, Chenghan.”
He nodded once, no smile on his lips, but no refusal either.
Shen Zhiwei’s stomach twisted.
The door closed behind Yuyan. Silence fell.
Shen Zhiwei snapped first. “So that’s what I am to you? Just some… some cover while you flirt with your elegant princess?”
His chair scraped back sharply. In two strides he was before her, towering, eyes blazing.
“Don’t compare yourself to her,” he said, voice low and dangerous.
Her chest heaved. “Why not? Isn’t she the kind of woman you want? Beautiful, powerful, from a family that matters? What am I compared to her?”
His hand shot out, gripping her wrist so tightly she winced. “You’re mine.”
Her breath hitched.
“You don’t need to be her,” he continued, voice rough. “You don’t need to be anyone else. As long as you cook for me. As long as you stay in my cage.”
Her vision blurred with tears. “You’re insane. You can’t keep me like this. You can’t chain me just because you’re afraid of losing control.”
His grip tightened, then loosened. For a heartbeat, something raw flickered in his gaze.
Then he released her abruptly, turning away. “Dinner tomorrow. Don’t be late.”
And he left, his footsteps echoing in the hall, leaving Shen Zhiwei trembling, clutching her wrist, her heart breaking.
She hated him more than ever.
But the chains he had wrapped around her only pulled tighter.
- Writer
