The photo looked like it had been burned, but the face in it was still clearly visible. It was a photo of her, taken two years ago, when she still had shoulder-length hair.
Half of it was gone, leaving only her face.
She had given it to Sheikh to pass on to her biological father, whom she had never met. It was a photo of her and her mother together.
How did it end up in his hands?
Her mind raced with wild guesses, and she completely forgot to respond to the man.
Seeing her stay silent, Luo Jin’s arm around her tightened abruptly.
“What, afraid to answer?”
Or was she still thinking about how to lie to him?
Heh heh…
“No, no, I don’t recognize it. Who is this in the photo?”
Her face was full of innocence, looking nothing like someone who was lying. Luo Jin smiled.
This little thing really took him for a fool.
To think she could say such a lie.
The girl in the photo was identical to her in every way except for the hair.
“You don’t recognize her? I thought it was you.”
The big hand at her waist gave her a light squeeze. Zhao Jingwan’s heart tightened, and she forced herself to keep up the pretense.
“How could it be? I’ve never… never taken a photo like this.”
The man’s gaze was deep and unfathomable. Hearing her stiff lie, he didn’t call her out on it, only saying lightly,
“So I was mistaken again?”
“Yes… I suppose so.”
She answered in a small voice.
“Oh…”
“Good thing it wasn’t you. Do you know where I found this photo?”
Zhao Jingwan shook her head.
The man curled his lips.
“At the crash site of a plane accident.”
Her heart clenched. She had a bad feeling.
“The person who died was named Rodell. Good thing you have nothing to do with him. His entire family was wiped out in one night. Tsk, burned to ashes in a single fire—even the servants didn’t escape. Isn’t that tragic?”
As the man’s deep voice trailed off, Zhao Jingwan was completely stunned, her mind buzzing into a blank void.
Luo Jin saw that she could no longer keep up the act, and smiled cruelly. His big hand grabbed her chin.
“What? Scared?”
“No… no.”
She answered stiffly.
The restraining hand released, and the man’s voice was low and husky.
“Go upstairs, wash up, and wait for me.”
The body in his arms stiffened again, unmoving. Luo Jin gave her soft waist another hard squeeze.
Zhao Jingwan stood up in a panic, walking in a daze toward the staircase leading to the second floor. Behind her came another deep, unrestrained voice.
“Find Sheikh, get the location of that batch of arms out of him, then kill him.”
Words deliberately spoken for someone to hear.
Seeing that slender figure nearly miss a step as she climbed the stairs, a mischievous smile curled at the corner of Luo Jin’s lips.
Zhao Jingwan climbed the stairs step by step, her heart full of terror.
Her mind was a complete mess. Her biological father, whom she hadn’t even gotten a chance to see—he was dead just like that?
Accident, massacre, arms, and that missing half-brother from a different mother—all these pieces connected together.
What kind of conspiracy had she gotten herself caught up in?
What should she do now?
Sheikh wasn’t dead—she knew that for certain. So, should she still pin her hopes on him?
No. He could barely save himself right now; saving her would be even more impossible.
She had to find a way out on her own.
Was that man looking for a missing batch of arms?
She sat blankly by the bed, pondering what to do next.
When Luo Jin came up, Zhao Jingwan was still deep in thought.
She didn’t even notice someone had entered until the man stood before her and reached out to lift her chin. Only then did she snap back to reality.
“Didn’t shower?”
Cowardly and disobedient—she really needed to be taught a lesson.
His big hand slid in through her collar. The girl flinched at his sudden movement.
“Don’t…”
She hastily grabbed at her collar, but couldn’t stop the man’s wanton actions. She could only tilt her head up and beg for mercy pitifully.
“Please don’t. Anything but this—I’ll do anything you ask…”
The girl’s voice was soft and pleading, almost unbearably so. Her intent to please was obvious.
Honestly, he didn’t buy it.
Luo Jin had no concept of “innocence.” A girl like Zhao Jingwan wouldn’t have interested him in the past.
He withdrew his wandering hand and looked down at the girl staring up at him with eager eyes, a meaningful smile on his face.
Anything, huh? Luo Jin curled his lips and sat back on the sofa, recalling the information on her documents. His tone was teasing.
“You can dance?”
Zhao Jingwan was taken aback. She didn’t expect him to know that.
She still didn’t realize that all her lost documents were in this man’s hands.
They contained her personal information, along with her declared major: Chinese classical dance.
She could only nod obediently and ask in a small voice,
“What dance do you want me to dance?”
As long as it wasn’t that, she’d do anything.
The very next second, that thought was shattered by the man’s shamelessness.
In the short video he showed her, a scantily clad woman with a face full of lust swayed her body in a way that was clearly vulgar, suggestive dancing—with heavy sexual undertones!
She had studied dance for over a decade. She could tell at a glance what the dancer was conveying. The eyes never lie.
After only a few seconds of watching, she looked away and muttered awkwardly,
“I don’t know how.”
There was no way she’d dance something like that. She had a professional standard when it came to dance. This kind of vulgar behavior that defiled true dancers—she utterly despised it!
For the first time, Luo Jin saw a hint of backbone in this little thing’s eyes. Though it flashed by in an instant, the curve of that small mouth pressed into a line was clearly tinged with arrogance.
“Fine, then strip for me.”
His brow arched slightly, full of mockery.
“I don’t know how to do that either.”
“Am I asking for your opinion?”
“I…”
“Pick one. Hurry up. Before my patience runs out, if you can’t choose, then get on the bed and spread your legs.”
Zhao Jingwan was backed into a corner with no way out, forced to bow her head and compromise before the forces of evil. A wise man doesn’t court danger when the odds are against him.
She turned around slowly, her limbs stiff in a way they had never been before.
She had trained in classical dance, where flexibility was the most basic requirement. Normally, any casual dance she performed revealed the suppleness of her body.
But now, every single movement was filled with awkwardness and embarrassed rigidity.
Seeing her perfunctory attitude, the man was displeased and threatened again.
“Dancing that ugly? Is it because you’re wearing too many clothes?”
At the thought of the scantily clad women in the videos, her clenched fists gradually loosened, and the amplitude of her body’s movements softened considerably.
Zhao Jingwan had been admitted to the best dance university in the country with the highest score in her major.
Her dance foundation was beyond question, but there was no way she would put her heart into dancing something so vulgar.
Yet even though she was doing her best to be perfunctory, even though she wasn’t dressed provocatively at all,
those wanton movements still made the man’s gaze burn hot.
Luo Jin watched the girl’s twisting waist. Just from the movements alone, he could feel how soft it was—let alone the fact that he had touched it just moments ago.
His fingertips seemed to recall the sensation from then. Soft, supple, enough to make one’s heart stir and drift.
Heat churned inside him. He casually pulled out a cigarette case, pinched out a cigarette, and put it between his lips. Bending his head, he lit it and took a deep drag.
From time to time, he lifted his gaze to enjoy the performance before him.
The taste of nicotine could briefly suppress the restless heat.
As he exhaled clouds of smoke, through the thin haze, his scorching gaze locked tightly onto the woman’s provocative undulations.
Tsk. Why had he never thought a woman dancing could be this seductive?
Who knew how much time had passed.
The man showed no sign of calling a stop. Zhao Jingwan was getting tired.
This was more exhausting than hours of practice in the dance studio—it was torment on both body and mind.
Her tied-up long hair now hung loosely over her shoulders, a few stray strands clinging to her cheeks with a thin sheen of sweat.
Her slightly flushed face, her soft panting breaths—every bit of it radiated an allure that was impossible to ignore.
She had no idea what kind of impact her appearance at this moment would have on the man watching her.
Luo Jin held the cigarette between his lips, his posture lazy, as if he had no reaction at all.
Only those who knew him well would understand—this was a dormant beast, deliberately feigning calm while lying in wait for its prey.
“Zhao Jingwan. Come here.”