Chapter 28 Did I say that I should dress more appropriately?
The elevator goes directly to the top floor.
"The charger is in the study." Shangqiu Zhutou didn't even turn around, casually tossing his suit jacket onto the back of the sofa, his movements revealing a hint of weariness and detachment.
He walked straight to the wine cabinet, his slender hand casually unfastening the platinum cufflinks on his wrist.
Yan Shuang stood still, asking, "Where is the study?"
Shangqiu Zhu was taking a bottle of whiskey out of the liquor cabinet when he heard this. He paused slightly and turned his head to look at her.
His gaze was cold, even carrying a faint hint of scrutiny, as if he were assessing a subordinate who needed to ask such a simple question.
Yan Shuang cursed him eight hundred times in her heart.
Megalomaniac! Control Freak! Mind-Reading Performance Artist!
She kicked off her torturous high heels, stepped barefoot onto the cold Italian marble floor, and began searching room by room.
Open kitchen, no.
There is no home theater.
There is no gym.
There are no guest rooms.
Yan Shuang stood at the end of the corridor, with only the master bedroom area on the second floor left to search.
She bit her lower lip; that bastard Shang Qiuzhu was definitely doing it on purpose.
"Mr. Shang," she called downstairs, "where exactly is the study?"
There was no response.
The only sound was the crisp sound of ice cubes falling into glasses coming from the direction of the bar.
Yan Shuang clenched her fists.
Okay, very good. Today she's determined to see what this narcissist's bedroom looks like.
There was only one heavy walnut door on the second floor, which was ajar.
Yan Shuang gently pushed it away.
The room was surprisingly clean, and the king-size bed was made as neatly as a hotel showroom, with only a shallow dent on the pillow indicating that someone had used it.
On the desk in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, next to a MacBook, lies a multi-port charger.
"Finally," Yan Shuang muttered to herself, and quickly walked to her desk.
Just as her fingers touched the charging cable, a deep male voice came from behind her: "Breaking into your boss's bedroom, Secretary Yan, you have quite the nerve."
Yan Shuang turned around abruptly. Shang Qiuzhu was leaning against the door frame, the top two buttons of his shirt undone, and he was holding a glass of whiskey.
“You didn’t say I couldn’t come up.” Yan Shuang raised her chin, clutching the charging cable tightly behind her back. “Besides, I knocked on the door.”
She told the lie without batting an eye, if you ignored her sudden, rapid heartbeat.
Shangqiu Zhu let out a very low chuckle and stepped into the room.
As he approached, Yan Shuang had to back away, her calves soon hitting the edge of the desk.
"You knocked?" Shang Qiuzhu leaned down, one hand resting on the bookshelf beside her ear, trapping her in a small space. His deep voice, carrying the strong aroma of whiskey, rushed towards her. "Which finger did you use?"
Yan Shuang held her breath, her gaze unfocused. Below was his bobbing Adam's apple, and above were his unfathomable black eyes.
"Here." She raised her right index finger as if possessed and waved it in front of him.
Shangqiu Zhu suddenly gripped that slender finger tightly. Yan Shuang tried to pull away as if she had been electrocuted, but he held on even tighter.
“I didn’t hear any knocking,” he said coldly.
Yan Shuang's ears burned, but she stubbornly refused to back down: "Perhaps it's because President Shang is getting older and his hearing is declining..."
Before she could finish speaking, Shangqiu Zhu suddenly grabbed her waist and swiftly turned her around, pinning her firmly against the large desk.
The MacBook was knocked aside, and the charger fell silently onto the carpet.
Yan Shuang's hands were easily pinned above her head with one hand, while the whiskey glass in his other hand remained remarkably steady, not spilling a single drop of the amber liquid.
"Say it again?" He leaned closer.
Yan Shuang could feel her heart pounding wildly in her chest.
"My...my phone..." She struggled in vain.
Shang Qiuzhu's gaze fell on her chest, which was heaving with her rapid breathing, and then slowly moved up to her crimson lips: "Now you remember to recharge?"
This was an absolutely terrible position; her red dress had already rolled up to her thighs during the struggle, while Shangqiu Zhu was tightly pressed against her.
The man's burning body heat and strength were transmitted through the fabric.
"Is this workplace sexual harassment, Mr. Shang?" She tried to cover the trembling in her voice with a sharp question.
Shangqiu Zhu curled her lips into a cold sneer: "Who dared to trespass into the boss's bedroom?"
Yan Shuang leaned against the mahogany bookshelf, Shang Qiuzhu's hand propped up beside her ear, his gaze sweeping across her trembling eyelashes and tightly bitten lower lip with an almost tangible intensity: "Weren't you quite the talker just now? Control freak, megalomaniac... what else?"
"That was... Ah!"
Yan Shuang was caught off guard and was forcefully flipped over, facing the bookshelf.
The bamboo from Shangqiu clung tightly to her back, its scalding heat burning her skin through the thin fabric.
His hand slid down her waistline and stopped at the slit in her skirt.
"Did I ever tell you to dress more appropriately?"
“Isn’t this…very proper…” Her rebuttal was interrupted by the sudden increase in the intensity of the kneading.
He suddenly exerted force, and Yan Shuang felt a chill on her back as her dress ripped open at the waist.
Shangqiu Zhu ruthlessly ripped the unsightly skirt off her.
"Shangqiu Zhu!" She finally found her voice, struggled to turn around, but froze the moment she saw his eyes.
The churning desires within reminded her of the oppressive depths of the sea before a storm.
"You're not called President Shang anymore?" He unbuckled his belt with one hand.
She lowered her head, and a certain undeniable masculine feature came into clear view. A surge of heat instantly rushed to her cheeks, and alarm bells rang in her mind.
Yan Shuang retreated in a panic, but her path was blocked by the bookshelf. "Can I use my hand...?"
Shangqiu Zhu's eyes instantly froze.
"It seems Secretary Yan hasn't grasped the situation yet." His actions made Yan Shuang gasp. "You have no right to negotiate with me."
His hand cupped the back of her head, completely denying her any chance to escape, and he lowered his head to seal her lips with his.
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