Chapter 8

William Johnson didn't just buy sanitary napkins. He also returned with a floral-print pajama set and brand-new underwear.

The pajamas were hideously outdated, like something a middle-aged woman would wear to the grocery store.

But they were still better than a bloodstained dress.

Emily Smith passed out the moment she got into the car.

In her drowsy state, she felt something warm pressed against her abdomen. The cramping gradually eased, and the tension in her brow finally relaxed.

When she opened her eyes again, it was dawn.

The first thing she saw was a minimalist bedroom—gray tones with recessed lighting.

Sunlight filtered through sheer white curtains, casting dappled shadows on the sophisticated gray walls.

Beneath her was a luxurious imported leather bed, two meters wide.

"Buzz—"

A phone vibrated from the left side.

It wasn't hers.

The black-and-gold casing was unmistakably William's custom model.

She suddenly realized—this was William's bedroom.

The bathroom door swung open.

William stepped out, a towel wrapped around his waist, water still dripping from his hair.

Their eyes met. He paused mid-step, then turned wordlessly toward the walk-in closet.

Emily scrambled to get up.

The moment she moved, she felt a rush of warmth between her legs.

She looked down—

A dark red stain had seeped into the bedsheet.

"Ah!"

She tried to jump off the bed but twisted her ankle, crashing heavily onto the floor.

The closet door flew open.

William strode out, his shirt still half-buttoned, the defined lines of his chest visible with each step.

He stopped in front of Emily, his gaze flickering to the bloodstain on the bed.

"I'm sorry..." Emily's ears burned red. "I'll wash the sheets."

William slowly fastened another button. "That's all?"

"And the medical expenses from last night... plus..." Her voice grew smaller. "The cost of the supplies."

William suddenly smirked, tossing a robe at her. "Clean yourself up first."

Once the bathroom door closed, he frowned at the stain and began efficiently stripping the bed.

When the water shut off, Emily hesitated, unsure how to exit.

The bathroom door abruptly opened.

William walked in wearing only his shirt and boxers, leaning lazily against the sink.

"You wanted to pay me back?" He arched a brow.

Emily hastily wrapped the towel tighter around herself. "How much?"

William crooked a finger. "Come here."

She forced herself to step closer.

"As promised," he murmured, fingers brushing her damp hair. "A thousand per time."

His touch burned like fire.