“I’m fine,” I murmured when he laid me down on his bed, still refusing to speak.
I did not want to push him any further.
“Oh, really?” he replied sharply, pushing me back so I was lying flat.
“Ziff!”
I exclaimed, startled, as he tore my shirt open with a swift, forceful motion that sent buttons scattering.
I tried to sit up, but I could not move.
“Oh!
You still remember my name?
I thought you’d forgotten, with all those other guys’ names constantly coming out of your mouth,” he said, his fingers grabbing my chin so I could not look away.
“What are you so mad about?
Didn’t you say yourself that you didn’t care about me anymore!”
“You remember every word, huh?
I must’ve let you continue on casually for too long.
Now everyone thinks I’m a fool.”
Ziff’s voice was dangerously low as he straightened, and I tried to shift away, but he moved faster.
In an instant, he was above me, pinning me beneath him on my back.
He straddled me, removing the shirt slowly, deliberately.
“Don’t think I’m letting you go like I did before.
Tonight, I’ll make you cry all night, Panya…”
“If you’re going to do this…”
My voice trailed off abruptly as Ziff’s lips pressed against mine, silencing me.
His warm, lingering tongue, mixed with that familiar hint of smoke, hit me again, making it hard to think about how strange this was—how it was not something you could just casually share with someone.
But maybe it was because it was him that I just did not have the strength to push back.
The dim light in the room left everything in soft shadows, so different from the usual.
The heat of his lips and his hands seeped into me gradually, bit by bit, warming me up.
For the first time, he tilted his head as he kissed me without breaking contact.
His breath was hot.
I felt my senses spin, as if I was right at the edge of drowning, unsure if I should rise up for air or let myself sink further.
Finally, he pulled away, letting air rush back into my lungs, and I immediately coughed, gasping from the sudden intake.
I avoided looking at him, not daring to know what expression he wore.
But if I had to guess… he was probably irritated to the point of exploding.
“Lift your head.
Swallow, breathe slowly…”
Ziff’s words came out steady and cold, almost detached, yet his fingers held an unexpected gentleness that left me confused.
I was not sure which side of him was the real Ziff.
“Why do you always make me feel like I’m taking advantage of a kid?” he muttered with a slight annoyance, resting his forehead against mine.
Through the press of our foreheads, I could feel the throb of his pulse, the beat of his heart echoing in my own chest, as his torso leaned against me fully.
This man…
“…”
I wanted to say something, maybe scold him or do something that could hurt him as much as he was hurting me.
But the moment slipped by, leaving me no chance.
As my breathing steadied, he kissed me again—this time deeper, tenderer, until I responded unconsciously.
He let out a low hum of satisfaction, his fingers drifting up to my collarbone, then to my chest.
I started trembling, unable to hold back tears as fear washed over me suddenly.
I did not know what to do.
I wanted to fight, but I was overwhelmed.
But thinking of letting do as he please made me want to protest.
If it were anyone else, I would had fought back immediately.
But because it was him, the one who could make me surrender with a single glance,
I was left confused.
Part of me did not want to resist, but letting him have his way felt like I was making myself an easy woman who let someone she did not know well had his way with her.
I felt lost, conflicted.
And as the turmoil grew inside, tears rolled down my face, unstoppable.
“Why do you have to cry!”
Ziff propped himself up, shouting irritably.
His harsh tone only made my tears flow faster.
I trembled and instinctively turned to my side, trying to escape that rude gaze.
“Why?
Why!?” he groaned as though he genuinely did not understand, which made two of us.
He turned me onto my back again, pushing aside the loosened fabric of my shirt, and his eyes landed squarely on my pastel-colored bra.
Tears began to stream even harder as I lay there, trembling uncontrollably.
“If you keep crying, I’m warning you now—I’m not stopping.”
Somehow, his warning shut off the tears like a switch.
I must had looked pretty ridiculous because he laughed, making me blink and look up at him, unsure of what to do next.
What was he trying to do?
Why did he have to keep scaring me like this?
Ziff’s own shirt had come undone partway, revealing his broad chest right in front of me, and for some reason, an odd feeling crept over me.
Damn…
Why did my heart have to skip a beat because of this man.
Get a hold of yourself, Panya.
Remember how cruel he had been!
“Who’s Joshua?”
His question jolted me back.
I raised an eyebrow, confused, not sure what was going through his head.
If he wanted to ask, should he not have done it the other day when I teased him about having dinner with someone else?
And had he not already figured out that Joshua was my father?
“Oy!
Answer me, not just stare,”
I wanted to slap him, but the smug yet cold grin stopped me, so I settled for glaring daggers at him instead.
How frustrating.
“Huh…
Not gonna tell me?” he asked, drawling.
Then, he traced his fingers slowly along the edge of my bra.
However, his fingertip was like burning fire, and I was an old paper, ready to burn.
“Papa!” I snapped, batting his hand away and clutching my shirt shut.
Being around him always seemed to end in something breaking—my clothes, my body, this was no good.
I tried to wriggle free, but with his whole weight pressing me down, I had no chance of moving an inch.
“Papa… Wow, you really are something,”
Ziff said with that dangerously wicked smile that sent chills through me.
I swallowed, unable to understand why he was still so upset.
“Did he ever do this to you, hm…” he murmured, leaning down to press his lips to my neck,
baring his teeth, like a tiny vampire fang and nipping at my skin.
I shrieked, writhing to escape his hold.
Heat spread toward my whole body.
I struggled, but he was strong and unmovable, raining bites and kisses down my neck, chest, and shoulder—everywhere his mouth could reach.
Tears welled up as frustration set in, and I lashed out, but Ziff only smirked triumphantly, proud of himself as he kissed my arm.
Now I looked like I had some rare disease, my skin covered in those red splotches,
while he chuckled in satisfaction at the mess he had made of me.
Soon, though, his smirk turned serious once more.
Ziff yanked me up from the middle of the bed, staring so fiercely that I could not help but tremble.
His gaze could practically kill me on the spot.
What was it with this mad man and his abrupt mood swings?
Then I realized it—his emotion suddenly turned sour because someone seemed to be calling his phone.
He had one hand gripping my arm while he reached for his phone in his pants pocket.
The moment he took the call, I tried to pull away,
but one hard look from him froze me in place…
He answered the call, muttering quickly in gruff, rapid-fire English.
I could not catch much.
“You’re lucky I’ve got something to handle tonight, so I’ll let you go for now.”
As soon as he said ’for now,’ I bolted from the bed.
But he just snatched me back right away, tossing me onto the bed like I was some kind of rag doll.
Maybe his name should not be Ziff, but Cheetah.
“Hey!
Or do you want me to finish what we started, didn’t you hurt your leg?”
he barked, glowering at me for I did not know and did not want to count how many times, the threat making me wince at the pain.
Panya you idiot.
“If you leave, you’re dead.
Considering I had been a jerk—this is payback for cheating on me.
So, starting tomorrow, you’re going to pack up and move in with me.”
“Huh?”
I exclaimed in confusion, massaging my aching ankle.
What did he just say?
I was cheating.
What cheating?
“No!
What are you even thinking?” I gasped, taken aback.
I would never understand what went on in his mind, not even one bit.
“Shut up.
If I come back and don’t find you here, you’re dead!” He pointed at my face, then buttoned his shirt haphazardly.
His eyes flickering down to my wrapped ankle with a frown before he ran his hands through his hair, smoothing it back into place.
I hate it that my heart sped at his haughty.
Get a grip, Panya!
“I’m going back to my apartment,” I said stubbornly, trying to cover my bandaged ankle,
though it was useless—Ziff had already seen it.
Along with, all of me…
Huh?—all of me?
“You’re a pervert!” I shouted as his gaze trailed shamelessly over my chest, lingering without a hint of restraint.
Why did he not say anything about my shirt practically falling open?
“Shut it, Panya.
I warned you,” he threatened, moving his face closer.
He pressed his forehead to mine, forcing me to look him straight in the eyes.
“If you don’t do what I say, do you know what’ll happen!
Even if you ran to the ends of the earth, I’d hunt you down.
Got it?”
He warned with a smile.
He was so ruthless and cold-blooded, it scared me to my core.
“See you in the morning.”
And with that, Ziff stomped out of the room irritably.
He was so scary that I was paralyzed, all I could do was sitting on the bed with a tremble.
What was it that he want?
I would never understand what goes on in Ziff’s mind.
.
Believe it or not…
believe me
I dared make it back to my own room…
I had dad pick me up from Ziff’s condo after saying I had been working on a report with a friend who had left to run an errand.
Thinking of dad, I started biting my nails in frustration.
Did that perverted Ziff really not know that the Joshua I had mentioned was my dad?
So many thoughts ran through my head that it almost exploded.
As I could think of nothing, I dropped into bed after a shower.
I did not want to wear Ziff’s clothes right now.
Tch…
he was just so unreasonable and immature.
And here I am, the coward who lacked the courage to stand up to him.
Believe it or not, believe me… again,
I’m probably…
going to die in this room tomorrow.
Even in my dream, I was being chased by a raging bull that looked exactly like Ziff.
What a terrible omen.
I could not sleep, so I woke up early to shower, as I did not shower last night…
um, I’m not gross—I just did not have time.
I felt sleepy due to the influence of the medicine, so it could not be helped that I failed to shower.
But, but, but I did shower in the morning ok?
I was not gross.
“What am I even supposed to do with this guy’s shirt?”
I stood at the washing machine, staring at his engineering uniform that I had somehow ended up bringing back with me last night.
Did I forget what he did to my shirt?
My arms, legs, neck, and collarbone were all covered in bright red kiss marks.
Thank goodness dad did not see those.
Ziff’s jacket was huge enough to cover me up, or else I could not even imagine what would had happened if my parents knew what happened.
“Can’t be helped,” I sighed, tossing his uniform into the washing machine with the rest of my laundry.
I trudged over to the living room to start fixing the button damage Ziff had inflicted.
Fixing the buttons was fine, but the tear was going to be a challenge.
Believe it or not, I could actually sew, even though I only managed a C in sewing class back in high school.
“Ouch!” I yelped softly as the needle pricked my finger.
“I always hurt myself.”
I grumbled to myself before wrinkling my nose as I realized my bandage had come loose.
This injury hurt even more because that jerk Ziff did not help me from the start.
It got wet again this morning, and I did not know how to patch it up myself…
Normally, I would just get someone close by to help with the bandage.
Dad was coming over later this morning with mom to check on me and help clean the place.
I figured I would wait for dad to fix it properly; otherwise, I would end up tripping from the bandage.
“Coming.” I called and quickly got up when I heard a knock on the door.
They came just as I was thinking about them, I thought happily, limping my way to answer it.
“Pa…
Ziff…”
I swallowed nervously when I saw the tall figure with an irritated expression standing there so early in the morning.
Why him…
I was expecting my mom and dad, not him, wah…
“You must have a death wish.”
Ziff’s voice was low and steady as he held up a needle in front of me.
It was just a small needle, but in the hands of Ziff the demon, it looked like a terrifyingly dangerous weapon.
“…” I said nothing, just sat there quietly, having already had my first round of tears.
As soon as I had seen him standing there at my door, I had tried to flee—forgetting I had an injured leg—and ended up getting thrown onto the bed, again.
I had instinctively grabbed my ruined shirt from yesterday and pulled it on as a shield.
Whether I was out of my mind or just dumb, I did not know,
but at least he did not try to jump me.
Ziff sat there, carefully stitching my shirt back together as if compensating for the buttons he had wrecked.
And yes, he was sewing it while it was still on me.
He sat cross-legged in front of me, stitching up the tear in my shirt, which I was still wearing.
I could not believe he actually knew how to sew.
It was unbelievable.
“So, tell me, what do you think happens to a fledgling bird that tries to fly before its wings are ready?” he said in a chilling tone as he continued working on the buttonhole
I swallowed hard, knowing he was being sarcastic.
“If it scrambles out of the nest and can’t get back up, how long do you think it would take for it to die, hours or minutes?” Ziff asked, smirking as he bit the thread off to finish.
I felt hot all over as he leaned in, his face just inches from my chest, to bite of the thread.
His breath was so hot that I could feel it and every kiss mark he had left felt like it was heating up, spreading an uncomfortable warmth across my body.
“Have you thought about how you want to go?”
It was unbelievable his smirk remained as he looked up at me, and I did not even want to believe it.
If I had not seen it with my own eye, that was.
My eyes widened as I heard a knock at the door.
“Oh no.” I pushed Ziff back, panic flaring up instantly.
His annoyance flashed across his face, and I thought he might smack me for that.
“What is this?
Who’s here?” His voice was cold, and he pointed at the door.
“It’s Joshua…” I muttered, my voice small, feeling the urge to cry.
How was I supposed to introduce my father to a guy who had just invaded his daughter’s apartment at the crack of dawn?
“Huh!
Did you say Joshua…”
Ziff shouted,
and then, to my shock, he started taking off his shirt.
“What do you think you’re doing…” I asked, unsure.
“Oh, just making a little X-rated movie for dear old Joshua…”
Huff!
That grin, what on earth were you planning, Ziff…