Chapter 123

William Johnson pushed open the door. The motion-activated hallway light flickered on.

As he bent to remove his shoes, a crystalline laugh rang out from the side bedroom.

The laughter was bright and melodious, like wind chimes dancing in a spring breeze.

He froze mid-motion, then moved toward the sound as if drawn by an invisible force.

The door stood slightly ajar. Emily Smith's voice carried clearly: "Mr. Cold is definitely my ideal type, but no one that perfect exists in real life."

William halted at the threshold.

"My type?" She seemed to be pondering. "Looks don't matter much, but they should have a good physique, gentle personality, and ambition..."

The glow from her computer screen illuminated her delicate features.

Fan comments flooded the screen as she laughed, her eyes crinkling. "Mountain River? No, he's just my senior."

William's expression darkened.

[You two look perfect together!]

[That boat scene was fire!]

[Just admit it already!]

The comments grew increasingly suggestive. William's face turned stormy.

"We're really just—" Emily began to explain when strong hands yanked her up.

Her headphones clattered to the floor as she gasped, tumbling onto the bed.

A familiar masculine scent enveloped her. William pinned her beneath him.

"Since they're so eager to hear," his voice dropped to a dangerous murmur, "why not give them a live show?"

Emily's eyes widened in panic. She shook her head frantically.

With a cold smirk, he captured her lips in a punishing kiss devoid of tenderness.

On the computer screen, comments continued to pour in—unanswered and unnoticed.