Chapter 21

After work, Emily Smith went straight to the hospital to visit her sister.

By the time she left, night had fallen. She returned alone to her apartment at Jinzhou Bay No.1, greeted by complete silence.

William Johnson wasn’t home yet.

She exhaled in relief and turned on the floor lamp in the living room. The warm golden light filled the space, and she savored the quiet solitude.

Her recent audiobook recordings had been well-received, becoming a significant source of income. She couldn’t keep borrowing Daniel Chen’s studio forever, so she decided to buy her own equipment.

After extensive online research, she consulted Daniel and finally ordered an entry-level recording setup.

The payment confirmation chimed, and she stretched lazily. She hadn’t showered in two days, and though the scratches on her skin had scabbed over, the sweat from the afternoon left her feeling sticky.

She headed straight for the bathroom.

The hot water cascaded over her body as she rinsed the shampoo from her hair. Then, she heard a soft click.

The bathroom door swung open.

She spun around, water droplets flying. The tension in her shoulders eased when she recognized the intruder.

"Don’t get dressed after this," William leaned against the doorframe, his gaze roaming over her. "I’ll apply your medicine."

Then he closed the door and left.

Emily stood under the steam, her cheeks burning.

After drying her hair, she wrapped herself in a towel and stepped out. William sat at the foot of the bed, idly twisting a tube of ointment between his fingers.

"I can do it myself," she murmured.

He glanced up and patted the mattress. "Lie down."

She obeyed.

"The towel," he added.

Emily bit her lip and let it fall.

William’s breath hitched. Her delicate frame glowed like pearl under the soft light.

The medicinal oil warmed in his palm before his large hand pressed against her waist.

At first, it was just a normal massage. Then, the pressure shifted into something else entirely.

"You promised..." she protested, turning her flushed face toward him.

William cupped the back of her head and captured her lips. "So don’t take me too seriously."

......

In the early hours of the morning, he carried her to the bathroom to clean up. This time, he dutifully applied the ointment before pulling her into his arms to sleep.

A sudden vibration from her phone jolted her awake.

Half-asleep, Emily fumbled for it. The words "Sweetheart" glared brightly on the screen.

Her fingers slipped, accidentally answering the call.

"Johnson, if Emma Clark likes you so much, why do you keep her around?" A woman’s voice dripped with jealousy.

Emily froze, wide awake now.

William took the phone, his voice lazy. "Hmm. Jealous?"

"Of course!" the woman snapped. "She’s supposed to be my best friend, but she’s always eyeing my man."

"Your man?" He chuckled. "Are you sure?"

Emily held her breath. So Emma had been telling the truth—he really did have a woman he’d loved for years.

Silence stretched on the other end before the voice returned, uncertain. "You wouldn’t betray me, right?"

"Hard to say." He ended the call.

Emily tried to inch away, but he yanked her back against him.

"Awake now?" His voice was rough with sleep.

She shook her head. "No..."

"Then why answer my phone?" William rolled over, pinning her beneath him. "Looking for trouble?"

She pressed a hand to his chest. "Was that... your girlfriend?"

His eyes narrowed. "Trying to manage me now?"

She shook her head quickly.

"Good." He kissed her eyelids. "Right now, I’m yours."