C7 You Are a Wolf Dog!

My lips throbbed, my teeth ached, and my tongue was in even more pain. Desperately, I tried to shrink behind the car seat, but the leather was unyielding.

A sliver of consciousness left in me thought I might be dying—I couldn't breathe at all.

When I finally came to, the buttons on my coat had been ripped off and were scattered around the car.

Without a second thought, I bit down on his shoulder.

He let out a scream and stopped moving, yet he remained on top of me, motionless.

My teeth were numb from biting; I had no strength left and had to release him. Through his suit and shirt, I thought I could detect the faintest scent of blood.

He glared at me viciously and bellowed, "What are you, part wolf-dog?"

Breathless, I didn't respond, just met his fierce gaze with one of my own.

We locked eyes for what seemed like an eternity until he was the first to relax. His stern expression melted away, and he suddenly burst into laughter.

His laughter made him even more handsome.

I had never seen a man so strikingly attractive.

He didn't continue his rough behavior but instead got off me and settled back into the driver's seat.

Despite his stunning looks, I couldn't bear to spend another minute with him.

He was too dangerous, beyond my control. I was already paying the price for impulsively getting into the car with him, and now all I felt was deep regret.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and reached for the door.

Suddenly, he was there, pushing me back into my seat and buckling me in again, his voice harsh, "Sit tight, we're not there yet!"

"I'll make my own way back!" My voice came out hoarse from the earlier struggle.

"Keep it up and I'll really take action right here in the car!"

Frightened, I didn't dare to move again.

I had thought that after six years in hell, the moment I was released, I would fear nothing in this world.

But now, I realized just how naive I was; the world was far more challenging than I had imagined.

As the car pulled up to the apartment Dahlia rented, I bolted out.

He followed, his tone lazy, "Leaving your phone behind?"

I stopped dead in my tracks and reached into my coat pocket, only to find it empty.

I couldn't help but furrow my brow and mutter under my breath, "What kind of twisted fetish does this wealthy heir have, taking pleasure in pilfering things from people's pockets?"

He strode over and handed me my phone.

I gave him a frosty look and held out my hand expectantly, "Anything else?"

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his suit pocket, his eyebrows arching like blades, "This what you're talking about?"

I made a grab for it.

But his fingers snapped shut, and he crushed the entire pack into a tiny wad.

Fury had me clenching my teeth, "You son of a—"

He stuffed the crumpled pack into my mouth to stifle my curse, then spun on his heel, slid into his car with an air of nonchalance, and drove off without a backward glance.

I spat out the mangled box and unfolded it with care, only to find the cigarettes inside were pulverized, utterly useless.

Just like that, ten yuan down the drain.

I cursed his ancestors one more time and tossed the shredded paper and tobacco into the trash.

Dahlia's apartment was decent, not quite on par with the home she and I once shared, but it was a slice of paradise compared to a women's prison, so cozy it almost invited despair.

The two rooms were divided into a study and her bedroom. The study had been freshly converted for me, complete with crisp new sheets and blankets that inexplicably made my nose tingle.

Sleep eluded me. I lay there, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing through plans, all riddled with flaws.

Just as I was drifting off, the sound of the living room door stirred me. I rose, ready to greet her, but halted at the sound of a man's voice.

At 5:50 a.m., I got up on time, ready for work. I lingered in the comfort of the room, disoriented for a moment before it hit me—I was free.

Awake and restless, I rummaged through the fridge and cobbled together some breakfast.

Cooking wasn't my forte, so I settled for toasting bread and warming two glasses of milk.

Then I noticed Dahlia was up, and there was no sign of a man in her room.

I asked her, "Did I hear you bring a man home last night?"

She grinned, "Yeah, he left at four. His fiancée keeps a tight leash on him; he can't spend the night out. No matter how late, he has to return."

I held a mouthful of bread without chewing it for the longest time.