Qin Qinxi pulled the blanket up to her chin, her fingers clutching the edge.

The girl lay on her side, curled up tight, like a snail retreating into its shell.

Her body still ached.

The sound of running water in the bathroom stopped.

Qin Qinxi’s body trembled.

She tightened her grip on the blanket even more.

Qin Qinxi couldn’t bear him to begin with; without any foreplay, it would be excruciating.

She was terrified he’d force himself on her.

The girl bit her lip, trying to swallow the pain—swallow it down into her stomach, into every corner of her body.

The bathroom door opened.

Vio Mansello stepped out, wrapped only in a large white towel around his waist.

Drops of water trickled down his shoulders, across his chest and abdominal muscles, seeping into the edges of the towel.

He glanced at the bed.

The girl was still lying on her back, the blanket pulled tightly over her, her curled-up form clearly visible beneath the fabric.

She wasn’t crying, but she wasn’t moving either—like a wounded little animal.

He knew she hadn’t fallen asleep.

The man walked over to the table and pulled open a drawer.

He hadn’t originally planned to give it to her himself; he’d intended to hand it over to the maid instead.

Perhaps he felt he’d hurt her in bed, or maybe there was something else—he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

From the drawer, he took out a box, its surface covered in white velvet and tied with a ribbon.

He knelt on one knee beside the bed and leaned forward to gently lift her shoulder.

Her shoulders were narrow and delicate; he could hold them in one hand.

Qin Qinxi’s body was turned onto her back.

Seeing her like this, Vio felt a pang in his heart.

Her eyes were still moist, her lashes clumped together in little tufts, and the tip of her nose was red.

Her face was small, made even smaller by the pillow, like a flower battered by rain—wilted and lifeless.

In the end, the man said nothing and simply handed her the box.

Qin Qinxi stared at the box for a few seconds. Suddenly, her nose pricked, and she swallowed hard, forcing the lump of grievance back down her throat.

When she took the box, her fingers trembled so badly that it nearly slipped from her grasp.

She gripped it tightly, squeezing it in her hand.

Qin Qinxi knew exactly what it was: a post-event consolation.

This man had probably realized he was a madman—after unleashing his fury, he’d offer her a gift to placate her, like handing her a candy after slapping her.

He was aloof and condescending, delighting in crushing others’ self-respect, unpredictable and unreasonable.

Qin Qinxi didn’t know whether he had other women or treated them the same way.

But this tactic wouldn’t work on her at all.

Yet now she was completely under his control, held in his palm, with no idea why he kept her around or when he might finally let her go.

She dared not provoke him; all she could do was suppress the pain and turmoil welling up inside her.

“Thank you… thank you, Mr. Mansero…” Her voice was barely a whisper, yet two tears still rolled down her cheeks.

Vio’s fingers twitched.

He wanted to wipe away her tears and say something, but in the end, he did neither.

He knew she was forcing a smile.

She was his woman, yet she’d gone to see another man, hiding it from him and lying to him.

“If you don’t want to smile, then don’t,” he said, his tone a bit harsh. “Smiling looks even worse than crying.”

Qin Qinxi’s eyelashes quivered, and she bit her lower lip tightly.

Vio cast a quick glance at the box she clutched in her hand.

She hadn’t even bothered to open it and take a look.

He waited a few seconds, then a few more, but she still didn’t move.

He laughed, half in exasperation.

That night, Vio didn’t stay overnight at the villa; he changed clothes and left.

The next day.

When Qin Qinxi woke up, she found that she was still clutching the white velvet gift box in her arms.

End of Chapter 65: Chapter 65