Vio Mansello had no idea what this feeling was.

She was holding him far too tightly.

Like an octopus, like a drowning person clutching at driftwood—her whole body wrapped around him, her face buried in his neck, refusing to let go.

Her skin pressed against his, hot, trembling, and slick with sweat.

Vio’s arms were shaking, though he hadn’t even realized it himself.

It wasn’t until he felt the muscles in his arms straining and quivering uncontrollably that he suddenly became aware: he was shaking, too.

He lowered his head, cupping her face with both hands, gently lifting her away from his neck and bringing her up before him.

This woman’s face was already blurred with tears.

Her entire face was wet—tears clung to her lashes, her nose was red, and her lips were bitten open, bleeding faintly.

Vio frowned, his voice hoarse with intensity: “No crying.”

Qin Qinxi’s lips trembled.

She took a soft breath, nodded, and said, her voice quivering: “I’m sorry…”

Vio looked at her.

With one hand, he brushed the stray hairs clinging to her face behind her ear, then leaned in and kissed her.

His other hand slid down her shoulder, across her waist, along her thigh, and gave a gentle lift.

Qin Qinxi tightened her grip even more, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, her eyes squeezed shut, her toes curled tight.

She didn’t dare claw at his back; all she could do was clutch the wrist of her other hand as hard as she could.

The blanket was pulled up to Vio’s waist, outlining the intertwined shapes of their bodies.

The man’s back was covered in scars of varying depths.

Old wounds overlapped new ones, glistening dimly in the dim light.

Around his neck, two slender wrists were wrapped—blindingly white.

And that was it.

There was no room for retreat.

Qin Qinxi’s first time had been given to someone whose identity she didn’t even know.

Afterward.

Vio got out of bed to take a shower. He glanced back at her.

Qin Qinxi lay there, completely still.

Her eyes were unfocused, her face expressionless, only her lashes fluttering occasionally.

The blanket covered her from the waist down.

Her back was so thin that the outline of her collarbones was clear, like two wings about to break free.

Vio withdrew his gaze.

He picked up his phone and dialed a number.

“Book a room next door.”

He hung up, stood up, and didn’t look back.

“Go next door. I don’t want to see you when I come out.”

With that, he walked straight toward the bathroom.

Qin Qinxi froze for a moment.

She slowly turned her head, watching his figure disappear into the bathroom, seeing the frosted glass door close behind him.

Qin Qinxi bit her lower lip, furrowed her brow, and, gritting her teeth against the excruciating pain in her body, slowly sat up.

She knelt on the bed, staring at the door.

How could he be so different on and off the bed? His moods were utterly unpredictable.

Inside the bathroom, the sound of running water filled the air.

Vio stood beneath the stream, letting the water cascade over his entire body.

The man closed his eyes.

He’d lost control.

He shouldn’t have touched her.

He hadn’t even confirmed her identity yet—he still didn’t know whether she was really an agent or not.

How could he…

Vio tilted his head back. The water hit his face and ran down his chin.

He felt unbearably agitated.

Suddenly, he heard a noise.

There was a sound outside the door—very soft. It was her coming this way.

Vio shot awake. His hand reached for the gun on the nightstand.

From beyond the door came her voice, muffled and trembling: “Hello… may I wear my bathrobe?”

After a pause, she spoke again: “I… I don’t have any clothes to wear…”

Vio’s hand froze mid-air.

Outside the door, Qin Qinxi stood there, trembling all over.

Her original silver lace outfit had already been torn to shreds, leaving nothing to cover her body.

All she wanted was something to wrap around herself—nothing more.

Even if she left, she couldn’t possibly step out naked.

She thought of those men at the auction stage.

End of Chapter 18: Chapter 18