The Ruthless Game

chapter 3: The Price of curiosity

​The dark crimson stain swam before my eyes, stark and terrifying against the clean white paper. It wasn't old or dried; it was deep, glossy, and undeniably fresh. Blood.

​The playful, teasing atmosphere we had a second ago shattered instantly, leaving the hallway suffocatingly cold.

​"I don't like repeating myself, sweetheart," Mo Yan murmured. His voice was a low, dangerous growl that completely filled the quiet space between us.

​His hand remained an unyielding band of iron around my wrist, pinning me in place right over the document. I could feel the raw heat radiating from his palm, contrasting sharply with the cold dread tightening in my chest. My heart slammed violently against my ribs. The reality of who this man was—and what he was capable of—hit me all at once.

​Slowly, deliberately, I tore my gaze away from the blood-stained paper and tilted my face up to meet his. Up close, the shadows of the corridor emphasized the sharp, lethal angles of his jawline. His piercing eyes were a void of absolute, unreadable darkness.

​I swallowed the lump of panic in my throat, forcing my voice to remain steady. I couldn't let him see me break.

​"I was just trying to be helpful and pick up what dropped," I whispered, my voice softer now, carrying a tiny, almost innocent note of defiance. I gave my wrist a small, stubborn tug, though his fingers didn't budge a single millimeter. "You're the one with the shaky walls, Mr. Hubby. If your house is throwing things at me, you can't blame me for catching them."

​A quiet, dangerous breath escaped his lips—a dark chuckle that lacked any real warmth.

​With a swift, fluid movement, his free hand snatched the rolled paper from the floor, hiding the crimson stain from my sight. But instead of letting me up, his large hand suddenly slid up to grip my waist.

​Before I could even gasp, he shoved me back. My spine hit the decorative wooden panel of the wall with a soft thud, and instantly, Mo Yan closed the distance. He used his entire towering, muscular body to pin me against the wall, trapping me completely beneath his shadow. The sheer weight of his presence was suffocating, his chest nearly brushing against mine.

​He leaned down, his lips brushing dangerously close to my ear. His breath was warm, contrasting with the icy promise in his words.

​"That paper contains names," he whispered directly into my ear, his low, rough voice sending a wave of pure goosebumps down my arms. "And right now, those names are a death sentence."

​He shifted his weight slightly, pressing me firmer against the wood to ensure I couldn't wiggle away, his dark gaze dropping to look down into my wide eyes.

​"Do you want yours added to the bottom of the list?" he asked, the threat hanging heavily in the space between our lips.

​The unfiltered gravity of his words ran a shiver of pure ice straight down my spine. This wasn't a corporate marriage. This was a predator's den, and he was completely invading my personal space.

​But looking at his handsome, terrifyingly grumpy face so close to mine, a tiny spark of my usual resilience flared up, refusing to let the fear win. I twisted my wrist sharply and gave a firm nudge against his chest. Seeing my stubborn expression, he finally let his fingers loosen just enough for me to yank my hand free and slip out from under his frame.

​I stepped back, smoothing down my dress, though my skin still burned everywhere his hands and body had touched. I puffed my cheeks out slightly, trying to mask the residual tremble in my breath.

​"Hmph. You really are way too serious," I murmured, forcing a small, reckless smirk back onto my face as I took another safe step away from him. "But fine. Message received. No touching the scary mystery papers."

​Giving him a tiny, mock-cheerful salute, I turned around and walked down the corridor toward the solid black door with the golden knob. I kept my posture straight, though I could feel his heavy, dark gaze burning holes into my back the entire way.

​I grabbed the golden knob, pushed the door open, and stepped inside, clicking the heavy door shut behind me. Only then did I let out the breath I had been holding, my back sliding down against the wood as I stared into the dark room.

​He was lethal, and I was trapped. But as my heart finally began to slow down, I gripped my hands into fists. He could lock me in his fortress, but he couldn't take away who I was.