Chapter 6: Another Million?!
1790 Words
In the presidential suite of a luxury hotel in the Imperial Capital, a woman stood before Desmond, fully undressed. She was a well-known socialite in the city's elite circles, a woman desired by countless men. No amount of money could secure her affection, and she was always sought after for her beauty and charm. Typically, she only accompanied men for drinks, never agreeing to a full-night affair. However, when Han Yu approached her with the offer to spend the night with Desmond, she agreed without hesitation. After all, Desmond was one of the most powerful men in the Imperial Capital, standing at the pinnacle of the social hierarchy. She had heard that he rarely interacted with women, so did this mean he was interested in her?
At that moment, Desmond sat on the sofa, smoking a cigarette. He glanced briefly at the woman's bare body, but his heart stirred no emotion. The woman hesitated before walking toward him and sitting down on his lap. Surely, this handsome face of his would make any woman swoon. She wrapped her arms around his neck and cooed softly, "Desmond."
Desmond furrowed his brow and extinguished his cigarette. Without a word, he grabbed her wrist tightly and threw her forcefully to the ground.
"Leave," he said coldly.
The woman was stunned, not understanding what had gone wrong. She was the one he had summoned, yet now he wanted her to leave.
"Get out," Desmond repeated, his voice devoid of any compassion.
"Desmond?!" The woman stared at him in shock, unable to comprehend why she was being treated this way.
"Leave," he said with finality.
"Desmond! I won’t leave!" As one of the most famous socialites in the Imperial Capital, it was an unbearable humiliation for her to be thrown out like this. She could not accept such disgrace.
Desmond stood up and yanked her arm, dragging her toward the door with such force that she felt her wrist might break. "Put your clothes on and leave, or I’ll throw you out as you are."
Seeing the cold fury in his eyes, the woman hurriedly put on her clothes and fled the room in tears.
Once she was gone, Desmond felt an overwhelming sense of discomfort. He was irritated, on the verge of exploding with frustration. It seemed that not every woman could excite him. He picked up his phone and dialed Rosalina’s number.
“Desmond, is there something you need?" her sweet voice came through the phone.
"Half an hour. I need you at the presidential suite at the Imperial Capital hotel," he commanded before hanging up.
...
When Rosalina finally arrived at the suite, she was out of breath, her body exhausted from the rush. She forced herself to steady her breathing and knocked on the door. Desmond opened the door, his expression dark and brooding.
“Rosalina, you’re three minutes late,” he said, his voice low.
“I’m sorry, Desmond. I was quite far from here. I drove over as soon as I received your call,” Rosalina explained, trying to calm her nerves.
In the presidential suite of a luxury hotel in the Imperial Capital, a woman stood before Desmond, fully undressed. She was a well-known socialite in the city's elite circles, a woman desired by countless men. No amount of money could secure her affection, and she was always sought after for her beauty and charm. Typically, she only accompanied men for drinks, never agreeing to a full-night affair. However, when Han Yu approached her with the offer to spend the night with Desmond, she agreed without hesitation. After all, Desmond was one of the most powerful men in the Imperial Capital, standing at the pinnacle of the social hierarchy. She had heard that he rarely interacted with women, so did this mean he was interested in her?
At that moment, Desmond sat on the sofa, smoking a cigarette. He glanced briefly at the woman's bare body, but his heart stirred no emotion. The woman hesitated before walking toward him and sitting down on his lap. Surely, this handsome face of his would make any woman swoon. She wrapped her arms around his neck and cooed softly, "Desmond."
Desmond furrowed his brow and extinguished his cigarette. Without a word, he grabbed her wrist tightly and threw her forcefully to the ground.
"Leave," he said coldly.
The woman was stunned, not understanding what had gone wrong. She was the one he had summoned, yet now he wanted her to leave.
"Get out," Desmond repeated, his voice devoid of any compassion.
"Desmond?!" The woman stared at him in shock, unable to comprehend why she was being treated this way.
"Leave," he said with finality.
"Desmond! I won’t leave!" As one of the most famous socialites in the Imperial Capital, it was an unbearable humiliation for her to be thrown out like this. She could not accept such disgrace.
Desmond stood up and yanked her arm, dragging her toward the door with such force that she felt her wrist might break. "Put your clothes on and leave, or I’ll throw you out as you are."
Seeing the cold fury in his eyes, the woman hurriedly put on her clothes and fled the room in tears.
Once she was gone, Desmond felt an overwhelming sense of discomfort. He was irritated, on the verge of exploding with frustration. It seemed that not every woman could excite him. He picked up his phone and dialed Rosalina’s number.
“Desmond, is there something you need?" her sweet voice came through the phone.
"Half an hour. I need you at the presidential suite at the Imperial Capital hotel," he commanded before hanging up.
...
When Rosalina finally arrived at the suite, she was out of breath, her body exhausted from the rush. She forced herself to steady her breathing and knocked on the door. Desmond opened the door, his expression dark and brooding.
“Rosalina, you’re three minutes late,” he said, his voice low.
“I’m sorry, Desmond. I was quite far from here. I drove over as soon as I received your call,” Rosalina explained, trying to calm her nerves.
Desmond didn’t respond. He pulled out his phone and began to type something. A moment later, a text notification pinged. Rosalina glanced at her bank account and froze. Another million had been deposited.
"Desmond, this…" She could hardly believe her eyes. Given the events of last night, she could feel her legs trembling with anxiety.
"What’s wrong? Not enough?" Desmond’s tone was cold.
“No, it’s not that, Desmond. I don’t need the money…” Rosalina’s heart sank. She was on the verge of breaking down. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? Why did he keep trying to control her?
Desmond walked up to her and seized her small face in his large hands. "Don’t want to do it? Why did you provoke me then?"
His grip tightened, and Rosalina winced in pain. She instinctively reached for his arm, her voice pleading. "Desmond, it hurts. Can we wait a couple of days?"
Seeing the flicker of vulnerability in her eyes, Desmond’s heart unexpectedly softened. He released her, and Rosalina stepped back, her body trembling with fear.
At that moment, he noticed a plastic bag sticking out of her open bag, with the emblem of the Imperial Capital Hospital visible. "Take a shower," he instructed.
"A shower?" Rosalina blinked, unsure of what he meant. Hadn’t he just let her go?
"Don’t want to?" he asked again.
"No, Desmond. I’ll go now." Rosalina quickly turned and walked toward the bathroom, fear gnawing at her. She couldn’t afford to defy him—doing so could be deadly.
...
After a hurried shower, Rosalina emerged in a hotel bathrobe and walked over to the bed. Desmond had also finished his shower and was lying in bed. He glanced at her, his gaze sharp.
Her makeup removed, Rosalina's face appeared softer, her fair skin glowing with youth. Her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, and tiny droplets of water clung to her neck. Desmond’s body responded involuntarily, his lower abdomen tightening.
"Come here, take off the bathrobe," he commanded lazily.
Was he really going to do this? Rosalina felt as though her entire world was being ripped apart. With no choice left, she climbed onto the bed and removed her bathrobe, feeling an overwhelming sense of despair.
"Spread your legs," he said, his voice low and magnetic.
Rosalina closed her eyes, bracing for the inevitable. She had a sinking feeling that she wouldn’t survive this night.
Suddenly, an unexpected coldness spread across her lower body. She looked down, only to see Desmond carefully applying ointment with a cotton swab.
"Desmond! I can do it myself!" she exclaimed, startled.
"Can you see?" he teased, his voice laced with sarcasm.
"Let me try," she muttered, embarrassed.
"Rosalina, with your skills, maybe you should join the circus," Desmond mocked, his gaze piercing.
Realizing this was an order she couldn’t refuse, Rosalina blushed deeply and lay back down, allowing him to continue. Every fiber of her being screamed in humiliation, but she had no choice.
About five minutes later, Desmond lifted his head and waved the ointment in front of her face. "Leave this here," he said clearly.
Rosalina nodded, scrambling to put on her bathrobe. She quickly walked to the bed and stood by his side.
"Unless there’s something else, Desmond?" she asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty.
Desmond pointed to the space next to him on the bed. "Sleep here tonight," he instructed.
Rosalina felt her head spin. What did that mean? Was this just a casual night of lying in bed together? Desmond, a man known for his ruthlessness, had a softer side? She wasn’t sure, but it felt like a strange twist of fate.
After a long silence, Rosalina gave him a soft, resigned smile. "Okay, Desmond. I’ll take care of it and come back." She left to take care of the details: packing his clothes into a laundry bag, arranging room service, and ordering breakfast for the next morning, as Desmond preferred to avoid crowds in the hotel restaurant. She had memorized his likes and dislikes over the years.
Once everything was set, Rosalina returned to the bed, carefully lifting the covers and lying next to Desmond. She curled up on the edge of the bed, afraid to take up too much space. After the events of last night, and with the terror she felt now, sleep seemed impossible.
Just then, she felt a powerful grip yank at the back of her bathrobe. Before she could react, Desmond had pulled her toward him, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist.
"Turn off the lights," he commanded.
- Writer
