Novel Squares
Chapter 29
Chapter 29
“Who’s this nemesis of yours?” He took a sip.
“Imperial Gem Corporation’s obnoxious boss!”
His eyes darkened, “What beef does he have with you?”
“It’s an old family feud, a cutthroat business rivalry! You into business? If not, you wouldn’t
understand,”
The assistant behind the boss stifled a laugh. The lady sure spoke her mind.
His eyes playful, L asked coldly, “Does your nemesis even take you seriously?”
“He said I have a small chest. That’s a grudge I won’t even let go!”
His gaze trailed down to the base of her neck. He frowned, failing to remember, and slowly said, “So he
did, but haven’t you grown bigger?”
Whitney suddenly crossed her arms, her face turning red, “L, Whose side are you on?”
The assistant thought, “What an extremely interesting question.”
Elegantly taking a bite of spaghetti, he crossed his legs. “Don’t worry about the painting.”
“Why not?”
“Imperial Gem’s Mr. Lippert isn’t fond of landscape paintings.”
Whitney’s eyes sparkled. “You’re guessing? That’s what I thought, too! A man that handsome couldn’t
possibly have such an old soul as to like landscape paintings, right? I’ll let you in on a secret. That
creep likes young girls!”
The assistant twitched, glancing at the boss.
Noticing the man’s suddenly grim expression, Whitney was puzzled, “What’s the matter, Mr. L?”
He narrowed his cool eyes, “You could try a different approach to win him over.”
“How so?”
Your sign–in rewar. Come to claim your free coins.
“Come here.” He beckoned with a finger.
Suspicious, Whitney approached, her clean, soft nightgown revealing a slender waist as he pulled her
into his
embrace.
She gasped, landing on his lap, his muscular physique solid and powerful.
Suddenly close in his arms, Whitney squirmed uncomfortably. He held down her struggling hands, his
voice sinfully low, “There are a few ways a woman can please a man. Which do you think?”
Whitney caught on, her brows furrowed, “You mean I should seduce my nemesis? He can get lost;
besides, I wouldn’t betray you.”
He raised an eyebrow. Whether he was pleased or cold was unknown. “You are quite loyal to me.”
“We have an agreement.”
“Shall we practice?” He suggested, seducing the young woman with his mature charm. This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.
“Practice what?”
“Charm a man,” he murmured, his breath warming the delicate skin below her earlobe.
Whitney’s cheeks flushed a deep pink as his gaze darkened like ink, his large hand settling firmly on
the small of her waist. He coached in a low voice, “To charm a man, you need to be soft–soft in your
demeanor, tone, and movements.”
“How do I… be soft?” Whitney felt as if she were intoxicated, not by wine but by his intoxicating
presence. How else could she explain following his lead so willingly?
The next moment, she felt weightless, gently lifted and placed on the tabletop.
The plates were just beside her, and towering above was a man of statuesque stature.
His body exuded a warmth that seemed to scorch her smooth skin.
Especially when he leaned down, bringing his handsome lips close to her ear. His cheek brushed
against her hair, hovering just an inch from her lips, neither advancing nor retreating. He simply hooked
his lips and breathed
Was this man flirting with her? Whitney felt like she was running out of breath, her face blushing
furiously as she clutched his chiseled arm, her heartbeat erratic.
“What’s the matter?” He noticed her rising temperature and arched an eyebrow playfully, “Soft?”
Whitney felt like a little cotton ball.
He looked triumphant, his eyes revealing his pride.
Biting her lip, embarrassed by his teasing, Whitney refused to be outdone. She straightened her back,
deliberately draping her hands around his neck.
Mimicking his movements, she leaned toward the man’s chiseled jaw, her lips brushing past his Adam’s
apple.
But as she drew near, she did not kiss him, maintaining a tantalizing distance.
Their breathing grew heavier, and she heard his breathing deepen into a husky timbre.
Whitney curved her red lips, her eyes provocatively challenging him, “So, Sir, are you feeling a bit
breathless?”
Suddenly, he seized her chin with his large hand, his gaze burning, breath heavy. His chest heaved
with a dangerous edge. “Quite the quick learner! Well, I won’t hold back then.”
The next moment, he took control of her chin and brought his lips down to hers.
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Whitney’s mind went blank, struggling frantically.
He smirked, rolling his lips over hers, not letting her escape.
It seemed like an eternity before he finally released her. Now, his eyes were tinged with red, staring at
her flushed face for a moment before he turned irritably and dashed upstairs.
Soon after, Whitney heard the sound of running water in the bedroom.
Stunned, she realized that he had taken the time to set her down before he went upstairs.
Whitney covered her crimson face, her head spinning…
Were they not just practicing? How had it turned into a kiss? She hurriedly began to clear the
tableware, trying to calm herself, but her heartbeat was still skipping beats, the air thick with innuendo.
And then she wondered, why had he taken a shower?
Could it be…
Her face flushed even redder.
Whitney did not sleep well that night, her mind replaying that kiss. The man had kissed her twice
before, and both times, she had been too busy resisting. But tonight, in addition to resistance, there
seemed to be a bit of confusion.
Was this man’s flirting game a bit too strong?
Whitney burrowed under her covers, thanking her lucky stars he had not entered her bedroom that
night.
The next day, Whitney woke up with heavy eye bags.
15:01
tie, Madein?”
Speechless, Whitney wondered, “Has he gone blind at such a young age?”
myiny around to tie my
Her eyes widened as she walked over to him. His towering height required her to stand on tiptoes, and
she looped the tie around his neck, knotting it tightly, her voice soft. “Like this, Sir. Is this to your
satisfaction?”
He glanced down at the knot, effortlessly untied it, and headed downstairs, muttering, “I have to travel
for work. I’ll deal with you when I get back.”
Taryn, who was nearby, blushed at the sight, and Whitney’s face turned even redder as she ducked
back into her bedroom.
Taryn called out to her, inviting her down for breakfast, but she refused to come.
Her stomach growled, hunger striking quickly now that she was pregnant. Whitney opened the curtains
to see if the man had left; she would head down to eat once he was gone.
But a figure caught Whitney’s eye in the car, waiting for him downstairs.
A woman sat in the passenger seat, a mass of curly hair obscuring her face, but her silhouette was
unmistakably voluptuous. She wore a tight red dress that was both understated and sultry.
Crucially, as the man approached, holding the tie Whitney had playfully knotted, the woman easily took
it from him.
He did not refuse.
Then they drove off together.
Whitney’s fingers tightened on the drapes, the previous tenderness on her face cooling into a straight,
calm line.
Was she his secretary? Unlikely, a secretary would not act so familiar.
Who was she?
Whitney pondered, yet also felt ridiculous for doing so.
Maybe she was his girlfriend. After all, she and this man were married only by agreement because of
the sudden arrival of the child, and he still suspected her of having ulterior motives.
So, was it not normal for him to have had a girlfriend before?
After all, the deal was just for a year. Maybe when it ended, he would marry his girlfriend!
That was what Whitney thought, but her heart still felt tight.
Why did he flirt with her last night if that was the case?
Or was he just an expert in the game, with many women at his side?
Whitney felt like she had been doused with cold water and jolted awake.
What was she confused about last night? Or did she think he was a good person just because he had
saved her twice?
Hadn’t the despair men had given her been enough? After experiencing all that despair, she would not
give
15:01
She ran into the man, who was already dressed in a shirt, reaching for his tie. He glanced at her with
an air of noble indifference. He seemed to have slept just fine.
Whitney glared at him but was caught in the act. He curved his lips and said, “What do we have here?
A little panda? Didn’t sleep well?”
“Mind your own business, Whitney snapped back.
He did not seem to care, tossing his tie into her hands and standing tall before her, “Hanging around to
tie my tie, Madam?”
Speechless, Whitney wondered, “Has he gone blind at such a young age?”
Her eyes widened as she walked over to him. His towering height required her to stand on tiptoes, and
she looped the tie around his neck, knotting it tightly, her voice soft. “Like this, Sir. Is this to your
satisfaction?”
He glanced down at the knot, effortlessly untied it, and headed downstairs, muttering, “I have to travel
for work. I’ll deal with you when I get back.”
Taryn, who was nearby, blushed at the sight, and Whitney’s face turned even redder as she ducked
back into her bedroom.
Taryn called out to her, inviting her down for breakfast, but she refused to come.
Her stomach growled, hunger striking quickly now that she was pregnant. Whitney opened the curtains
to see if the man had left; she would head down to eat once he was gone.
But a figure caught Whitney’s eye in the car, waiting for him downstairs.
A woman sat in the passenger seat, a mass of curly hair obscuring her face, but her silhouette was
unmistakably voluptuous. She wore a tight red dress that was both understated and sultry.
Crucially, as the man approached, holding the tie Whitney had playfully knotted, the woman easily took
it from him.
He did not refuse.
Then they drove off together.
Whitney’s fingers tightened on the drapes, the previous tenderness on her face cooling into a straight,
calm line.
Was she his secretary? Unlikely, a secretary would not act so familiar.
Who was she?
Whitney pondered, yet also felt ridiculous for doing so.
Maybe she was his girlfriend. After all, she and this man were married only by agreement because of
the sudden arrival of the child, and he still suspected her of having ulterior motives.
So, was it not normal for him to have had a girlfriend before?
After all, the deal was just for a year. Maybe when it ended, he would marry his girlfriend!
That was what Whitney thought, but her heart still felt tight.
Why did he flirt with her last night if that was the case?
Or was he just an expert in the game, with many women at his side?
Whitney felt like she had been doused with cold water and jolted awake.
What was she confused about last night? Or did she think he was a good person just because he
had saved her twice?
Hadn’t the despair men had given her been enough? After experiencing all that despair, she would
not give
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15:01
anyone the chance to make her feel that way again.
Her heart needed to be locked away tightly. Whitney lowered her gaze and calmed down Right, this
was just a transaction, after all.
Then her phone chimed
It was L. II do not wish to see what happened at the Valentine Mansion ever again! From now on, avoid
going out alone and call me for anything, pregnant kitty, hmm?]
His tone was domineering and teasing. But Whitney was already alert, what he truly cared about was
indeed the child in her belly.
She did not reply.
Whitney searched for materials at home, preparing for the upcoming state–level design competition,
She was fond of Natalie, who tried her best to nourish her. Whitney had lost her beloved family too
early and had not felt such pure warmth in a long time.
“Whitney, why do you look a little pale?” Natalie inquired.
Whitney paused, then shook her head with a smile. “You must be mistaken.”
Just then, her phone rang. Seeing the caller, Whitney’s eyes turned cold, and she quietly stood and
walked
away.
She did not answer.
But Simon was persistent.
Finally, Whitney answered with a cold expression, and Simon’s voice, tinged with a strange gentleness,
reached her. “Whitney, I’ve been thinking a lot these past few days. I can’t let go of you. Let’s meet,
shall we?”
Whitney could only scoff.
“Simon, whatever you’re spouting now, I’ll forward straight to Monica. As for meeting up, the only
places you’ll see me in this lifetime are at a jailhouse or a graveyard. Whenever you find yourself in
either, expect me.”
“Whitney!”
With an icy click, Whitney ended the call.
But Simon seemed to anticipate her move; he immediately responded to a text message.
Whitney’s thumb hovered over the delete button, yet as her eyes flicked across the screen, her motion
froze.