Chapter 23 Exclusive Release (Kiss) It really is him...
Beneath the restraint of control lies an extreme desire.
— Beneath the facade of naivety lies a shrewd victory.
This is the self-control and order that Elias has always been proud of.
Wynne was clearly completely absorbed in it as well.
Elias disliked the scent of her perfume; to him, it was an intrusion that she wore it in his car.
Perhaps kissing her lips could reaffirm his ownership of her.
Part of it was driven by desire, but Elias was never a person ruled by desire, so he still used the phrase "may I ask?" to ask questions, so that he would not admit that his behavior was out of control.
Everything is within order.
He gently cupped her chin in his hand. Wynne had already moved very close, but he still lifted her chin with one hand to make sure her cheeks were facing the direction he wanted.
Wynne was very compliant.
She moved gently along his palm, placing one hand beside Elias's thigh to support her body.
Her breath was already touching his lips, but Elias didn't rush to kiss her. Instead, he gazed at the girl's face for a long time.
Wynne's skin radiated warmth, her eyelashes drooped gently, and her lips were a rose color, naturally full, with a texture like soft velvet.
Only her light breath, carrying that unfamiliar fragrance that displeased him, brushed against his chin.
The twenty-year-old girl didn't yet know how to control her breathing; she poured out all her passion and sweetness, while the man remained restrained, watching without letting her feel his body temperature.
He had watched for a while when the girl opened her eyes, looking somewhat anxious.
Her bright, lively eyes were about to burst with questioning intent when Elias lowered his head and pressed his gaze against her with extreme restraint.
It just fits snugly, feels slightly cool, and is dry.
Elias was not very good at this; he was probably thinking about how to kiss a girl's lips.
Wynne didn't move. She was such a good girl to him; she waited for him patiently.
Such obedience undoubtedly pleased him, and he longed to delve deeper.
He tilted his head slightly, precisely adjusting the angle so that their lips could fit together more closely.
His hand moved down, from supporting her chin to gripping half of her throat, thus supporting her entire head.
He restrained his movements, but Yuan Ning heard the low gasps escaping from his throat.
She thought that such contact alone had already made Elias like this.
What a pitiful man; he must have never tasted the joy of indulgence.
Even such a restrained kiss elicited such moving low breaths from him.
Yuan Ning was getting anxious; what he gave her was too little.
But she wouldn't make a move; a proud girl wouldn't take the initiative to kiss him. Even though she was itching inside, she remained quietly in his hands, doing nothing.
After a moment of stillness, he gently moved his lips away, his hand cupping the back of her head, bringing her forehead to his. His eyelashes drooped softly, his thumb tracing her cheek, and his voice, soft and husky as if enveloped in velvet, spoke:
“My dear Wynne, this is enough.”
What appeared to be the end of his request to her was actually a declaration. It subtly announced that the kiss had come to an end.
His lips left hers, and Wynne's heart began to pound wildly out of control. Deep within her body, she felt a sense of loss and dissatisfaction, as if she had been suddenly suspended in mid-air.
That's not enough, my boss, that's not enough.
Elias patted the back of her head reassuringly, then slowly withdrew his hand, his movements unhurried.
The half-second his fingertips lingered on the back of her neck betrayed a hint of lingering that wasn't intentional.
Yuan Ning looked at him; he remained gentle. She slowly sat up straight as the Bentley silently glided into the temporary parking area below her apartment building.
“We’ve arrived at Miss Wynne’s house,” Charles said. Through the black velvet curtain, Charles had no idea what was happening in the back seat. “Boss, your private jet is waiting for you at Tetborough Airport.”
Yuan Ning turned her head and gave him a sweet smile: "Thank you for bringing me back. I wish you... a safe trip to Newport."
She was already happy enough today, and had received enough rewards from fate. The world had been good to her, so even though Elias didn't give her anything more, she couldn't be bothered to ask for more.
Elias nodded slightly, and Charles had already opened the car door for Yuan Ning.
Just as Yuan Ning turned to get out of the car, Elias called out to her again: "Wynne."
She turned around, but Elias didn't look at her. Instead, he reached into the back seat of the car and took out a dark blue hard cardboard box that looked like it had been prepared beforehand and had no brand logo.
“It’s going to get cooler in New York City next week,” he said casually. “I think you might need this.”
Yuan Ning paused slightly, took the box, and gently opened the lid under his calm gaze.
Inside, a light pearl gray scarf lay quietly.
The fabric is extremely rare baby alpaca wool, and the color is presented in an incredibly gentle way. Touching it feels like holding a warm cloud.
The edge of the scarf is embroidered with a line of cursive initials: E·v·d·B.
The absence of a brand logo, displaying only his surname, highlights that it is a personal item.
But Elias wouldn't use such a color. This scarf was undoubtedly for a woman, for Wynne, and it had Elias van der Berg's name on it, but it was for Wynne.
"Thank you, boss."
Yuan Ning gently stroked it, showing that she liked it very much.
“You’re welcome.” Elias’s gaze fell on her face, his eyes a pure blue, devoid of emotion. “Wynne, I hope you take good care of yourself.”
Yuan Ning got out of the car, and Charles drove away in his Bentley only after she walked through the revolving glass doors of the apartment building.
Putting aside everything else, Elias would never violate gentlemanly conduct in such a detail.
Back in her apartment, Yuan Ning turned on her computer to check her bank statements and found that the magazine and Van der Berg's salaries had been deposited into her account.
She set aside $1,000 as a deposit for next month's rent, and she could borrow the latest styles from magazines for her usual social occasions, so she didn't need to spend money to buy new clothes.
She couldn't help but recall what Emily had said to her last week: "No wonder those Latino girls are spreading rumors about you, Wynne. How long has it been since you went to the hair salon? Your hair is all split."
Yuan Ning needs to set aside another thousand US dollars for hair, skin, and nail care.
Elias forbade her from using public transportation anymore. As far as she could afford, she certainly didn't want to squeeze onto the subway again, so she needed to set aside $200 for taxis to and from school and get off work.
She couldn't even explain where her BMW had gone, but fortunately, starting next week, Meng Qingyuan would explain it to her.
As for the remaining money, most of it would be spent on the daily split-the-bill lunches at upscale restaurants, so when she thought about it that way, her income was still too little.
Wearing a pink bathrobe and a bunny ear headband, Yuan Ning, after a period of calm and ruthless planning, resolved to work even harder on her career.
She opened her phone to reconfirm tomorrow's itinerary with Moira Young, initially thinking that Elias had forgotten or simply didn't want to take photos of her and Alexander Kiyokawa, so she didn't check the photo album at first.
It wasn't until she finalized the itinerary with Moira Young that she inexplicably opened her photo album and discovered a picture of herself playing golf with Alexander Kiyokawa. Elias, as expected of a shrewd individual who had been immersed in the bourgeoisie for many years, knew exactly where his sense of superiority lay. Don't think that the rich are clueless; they know best where their sense of superiority lies.
This photo not only captures the faces of Yuan Ning and Alexander Qingchuan in their entirety, but also clearly shows the Winged Foot golf club logo, indicating that he knows what Yuan Ning wants.
Yuan Ning had no intention of posting the photo on her blog; that would require Mr. Qingchuan's permission. She planned to print it out, frame it in a casual wooden frame, and place it in a prominent spot in the living room of her new apartment.
Before night fell in New York, Yuan Ning typed out the last appointment email on the keyboard, booking herself for a full-service appointment at the Venus Mirror Salon at nine o'clock the next morning.
That was her favorite place. Of course, almost all the socialites from the Upper East Side gathered there, and her presence there was a declaration in itself.
At 8:50 a.m. on Sunday, Yuan Ning got out of the taxi. She didn't dress up specially today, just wearing a simple white cashmere sweater and knitted skirt, bare legs and high heels, with the Max Mara coat she borrowed from the magazine on top.
"Princess Wynne, it's been so long since you've been here." The young man at the Venus Mirror greeted her with an even warmer smile than he remembered. "You've booked Sandra, right?"
"Yes, I need to get my hair treated and my nails done today. Please hurry, I have other things to do this afternoon."
Yuan Ning raised her wrist, revealing the Chanel fashion watch from the magazine.
She was led to a familiar interior area, where expensive fragrances filled the air and the low hum of a hairdryer filled the room.
"Oh my God! Wynne?"
Yuan Ning turned around and saw Eleanor with a head full of curlers, wearing a salon robe, undergoing a routine hair treatment.
“Eleanor,” Yuan Ning said with a flawless smile, “what a coincidence.”
“Wynne, I knew it!” Eleanor lowered her voice, but couldn’t hide the excitement in her tone. “Justin told me that you were working for the Van der Berg family, and I was wondering why I hadn’t seen you at school lately.”
Upon hearing this, Yuan Ning smiled slightly: "It's just an internship, Eleanor, you're exaggerating."
"Come on, Wynne." Eleanor leaned closer. "That's Van der Berg. Emily and the others don't know anything, but I know what kind of circle that is."
She changed the subject abruptly, "Wynne, you're not being fair."
Yuan Ning looked charmingly innocent: "What's wrong with me? Eleanor, to be honest, I genuinely consider you a friend. I know you're different from Emily and the others."
"You should have told me about this situation you've had."
Yuan Ning also had a nursing cap put on her head, and her hands were stretched out for the nail technician to take care of them. She had chosen a nude pink color today.
“Eleanor, I know you want to help your boyfriend, but I have to advise you that women should not meddle in men’s affairs. It’s a thankless task. You’re not married to him, so why bother running around for him?”
Yuan Ning's muffled voice struck a chord with Eleanor's hidden unease. She depended on her boyfriend and enjoyed material comforts, yet she often felt a sense of insecurity and unease.
She wanted to do things for her boyfriend, partly to demonstrate her own value, as if that would make her more important to him.
Yuan Ning watched the manicurist create an exquisite French manicure on her nails and lazily said, "Justin's business is his, but your life is your own, Eleanor."
“You’re right, Wynne, but what can I do? This industry seems open, but it’s actually very tightly guarded. I’m a Chanel VIC this year, but if I don’t keep buying like that next year, my spending will be wiped out, and my membership level will drop. Who would willingly give up after enjoying that kind of treatment?”
"Who isn't?"
Hearing Wynne speak in a muffled voice, Eleanor asked, "What?"
“No one will willingly step aside, Eleanor.”
“Then please help me this once, Wynne. Any day next week, as long as you can get Mr. Van der Berg to the Four Seasons Restaurant, I’ll have Justin go there and create a chance encounter. The rest is up to him.”
Eleanor still hadn't given up on this plan; she was sure that helping Justin once would bring her even greater returns.
“Next week…” Yuan Ning said helplessly, “I’m facing a crisis next week, so I’m afraid I won’t have time to help you.”
Eleanor laughed and said, "What crisis could you possibly have? You're good at everything – your career, your studies, and you have suitors lining up from New York to Paris."
Yuan Ning thought to herself, "But she's an illegitimate child."
The world is in the same boat: illegitimate daughters are universally condemned.
"Eleanor, you'll find out next week."
Eleanor's hood was removed, and she sat closer to Yuan Ning. Her hair, which had just undergone deep conditioning last night, shone with a silky sheen. She lowered her voice and said, "Darling, if you help me this time, just tell me what you want me to do."
Looking at Eleanor's beautiful face so close to his, Yuan Ning had no doubt that Eleanor was not the same kind of person as Emily and the others. Sometimes, Eleanor was trustworthy.
“Eleanor, I’ll help you this time. But you have to be my best friend next week, in front of everyone.”
Eleanor was taken aback, then laughed and said, "Wynne, what's so difficult about that?"
Yuan Ning looked at her with a complicated expression: "You'll find out when the time comes."
It's a deal.
It's a deal.
When Yuan Ning emerged from the Mirror of Venus, she seemed like a completely different person.
Her hair regained its satin-black shine, flowing in perfect arcs under the sunlight. Her nails were a carefully treated nude pink, making her fingers appear even more slender and fair. More importantly, the radiance that shone through her pores, a result of meticulous care, gave her back the confidence of "Princess Wynne."
She said goodbye to Eleanor at the salon entrance, and Eleanor hugged her warmly, reaffirming their vow. Eleanor then got into the Maybach driven by her chauffeur, while Yuan Ning got into a taxi and gave him the address of Moira Young's studio.
At 2 p.m., the taxi stopped in an arts district in Brooklyn, a renovated old factory, a stark contrast to the sophisticated luxury of the Upper East Side.
Yuan Ning, who had only recently moved out of this area, now stood here feeling completely out of place.
Yuan Ning walked on the uneven cement ground in high heels.
Moira Young's studio is on the top floor of a building, a spacious loft space. White walls, concrete floors, huge windows letting in plenty of natural light, fabrics, semi-finished products and design drafts hanging or piled up everywhere, appear somewhat cluttered, yet full of vibrant creativity.
Moira Young herself is a slender Chinese-American girl who looks only a few years older than Yuan Ning. She wore a black deconstructed dress of her own design and had a sharp, direct gaze.
“Wynne Meng?” She came forward, shaking hands briefly and firmly. “Thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for the invitation.” Yuan Ning smiled, her gaze quickly sweeping across the entire space before finally settling on the finished pieces hanging on the rack. Those were Moira’s new collection that she was preparing to release.
For the next hour, Yuan Ning demonstrated her professionalism as a Parsons honor student and a future fashion critic. She didn't waste time with small talk, getting straight to the point, carefully examining the cut, fabric, and details of each garment, inquiring about the inspiration behind the designs and the craftsmanship involved.
Moira was initially wary, but when Yuan Ning asked several insightful questions and accurately pointed out what she was trying to express in her design, her eyes changed, from being businesslike to being excited to have met a kindred spirit.
“You understand my design.” Moira rarely showed a smile.
"They are indeed very well done, and understanding design is a basic skill that every fashion critic should possess."
“If you don’t mind,” Yuan Ning finally took out her phone, and after getting permission, took photos of several of her favorite items from different angles, “I want to write something about them.”
“Of course!” Moira agreed immediately, even offering, “If you need to try it on, I can send you a sample. We have a new product launch next week, so please post a blog entry on that day.”
Yuan Ning agreed and left Moira's studio at four in the afternoon. Carrying a dust bag containing clothes, she didn't go straight home but went to a print shop to print out the photo of herself with Alexander Qingchuan. That evening, the photo was placed in the most prominent position on the mantelpiece, next to which a light pearl-gray alpaca wool scarf was casually draped.
These two items silently construct her new background.
Parsons College has a new semester in the winter, and many new students enroll before the snow season arrives.
All of this is irrelevant to Yuan Ning. As long as Meng Qingyuan doesn't physically assault her, she won't care about the other party.
Starting Monday, she went to class as usual, interned at the magazine, and then arrived at the Van der Berg mansion in the evening.
She knew Elias had returned from Newport the night before and knew his schedule for the entire week, but she hadn't seen him at the villa for three days in a row.
Dorotha helped her tidy up Elias's clothes and chatted with her, saying, "Young Master Elias has been accompanying Mrs. Theodora to events and banquets these past two nights, and he's been coming back very late."
Dorotha skillfully ironed a silk shirt, "seemingly to welcome a noblewoman from Europe who was on good terms with the family."
Yuan Ning was looking up a tie with a specific number when she paused, still wearing a professional and polite smile. "Looks like Newport's social season is over, and Manhattan's is starting again." Her tone was light, just a lighthearted remark.
But she felt a little uncomfortable. Working for Elias meant she could hear about and learn about circles she had never been to before. Now that she knew, how could Yuan Ning be content to just work for her master's family while gossiping about the upper classes with Dorota?
The sour feeling made her chest feel swollen.
Elias's silk shirt was neatly hung up by her, intended for his morning meeting the next day. Yuan Ning continued working diligently as always.
Because the employer's daily schedule was subject to minor adjustments, Yuan Ning needed to come almost every day after Richard notified her. Three thousand US dollars wasn't so easy to come by.
On Wednesday afternoon, Yuan Ning had just finished a dry lecture on the fashion industry supply chain when her phone vibrated. It was Richard.
“Ms. Wynne, I apologize for disturbing you, but please go to No. 1 Willow Street immediately and retrieve the midnight blue worsted wool suit, number TW-07. Please also prepare a shirt, tie, and cufflinks and deliver it to Percival Capital. The boss has an urgent meeting with a representative of a sovereign wealth fund from the Middle East in half an hour. His suit, which he was wearing this morning, was accidentally spilled with wine at the luncheon just now.”
Richard speaks very quickly, requiring Yuan Ning to obtain information rapidly.
“Understood, I’ll be at the mansion in fifteen minutes.” Yuan Ning replied immediately without any hesitation.
She turned to say goodbye to Emily and Amanda, saying, "I have work to do, so I'll be going now."
“Wynne, how come you’re always so busy? You’re such a difficult employer. If it were me, I would have quit long ago,” Emily said.
Yuan Ning, carrying her books, walked to the roadside, hailed a taxi, and ignored Emily. She already had a premonition that these people would soon no longer be her friends.
After giving the address No. 1 Willow Street, Yuan Ning opened her laptop in the car, her brain working at lightning speed.
TW-07 is a set of deep, sophisticated colors with a very clean cut, making it perfect for meeting with wealthy and relationship-conscious Middle Eastern representatives. No wonder Elias specifically requested this set.
She needed to mentally match the perfect shirt, perhaps a white poplin with subtle patterns, a dark blue tie with a delicate sheen, and simple white gold or black onyx cufflinks.
At times like these, she was incredibly grateful for the detailed coding system Elias had designed for her wardrobe.
While in the car, she could call Dorota and ask her to bring out the spare outfit she had chosen in advance for ironing and tidying. Once she arrived, she could simply pick it up after a final confirmation.
When they arrived at the mansion, Dorotha had already been notified and was waiting at the door.
Yuan Ning went straight to the dressing room. All the items she had selected had been ironed. She quickly put together and checked the outfit, packed the whole ensemble into a dust bag, and got back into the car.
As the car pulled up beneath the skyscraper, she carried her bag, put on her high heels, and walked through the revolving door into the stunningly high, coldly modern lobby.
The air was thick with the scent of money, efficiency, and pressure.
Clearly, the situation was urgent, so Richard waited for her personally at the elevator entrance. "Come with me."
Yuan Ning's black high heels slammed against the ground as they took a private elevator directly to the top floor.
The moment the elevator doors opened, a flood of sunlight poured in, and the view of the skyscraper was unparalleled. Outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows that covered an entire corridor was the cold and magnificent Manhattan skyline, as if the entire city of New York was under one's feet.
Yuan Ning stepped onto the thick Axminster carpet, which seemed to swallow up all sound, and began to reassess her relationship with Elias.
Without a doubt, this entire building belongs to him. And perhaps more than just this one.
Richard led her to a heavy double door at the far end of the corridor.
"The boss is in the temporary rest room inside."
Yuan Ning pushed open the door and went in, carrying a bag of clothes. Elias was standing in front of the French windows with his back to the door, talking on the phone.
He took off his soiled suit jacket, leaving him in only a shirt and vest.
Hearing the door open, he turned around and saw it was her.
He didn't give her any expression, but simply said a few words on the phone and hung up before walking towards her.
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Author's note: Once upon a time: Elias was so handsome, I wanted to play with him.
Now: Family, I want half of his fortune.
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