Elena Shen had no intention of engaging with Adrian Jiang any further—especially not in front of Ethan Jiang.
There was nothing left between them worth discussing.
The more they spoke, the more the conversation veered into cold detachment.
Whatever affection had once lingered between them was nearly extinguished.
There was no need to exhaust what little remained.
Keeping their distance—no contact, no conversation—was the best course of action.
But Adrian clearly didn't see it that way.
His blunt question made Elena frown without a word.
Ethan turned his head slightly, his deep, dark gaze falling on her.
Elena lifted her eyes to him, just about to decline—but he answered on her behalf before she could speak.
"It's late. My wife and I have other plans for tonight. Whatever you want to talk about, it'll have to wait."
The black car sped through the dazzling city streets, and the encounter at the Jiang estate quickly faded from Elena's mind. She stared out the window as neon lights flickered past, the night deepening beyond the glass. But in the silence, one particular thought—one that had been gnawing at her ever since they received their marriage certificate—resurfaced and swallowed her whole.
At the estate, the constant presence of servants and guests had dulled the edge of her anxiety.
But now, alone with Ethan in the backseat, the reality of nightfall hit her like a crashing tide.
The accident with the Shen family had come too suddenly. She had married in a daze, never truly preparing herself—mentally or emotionally—for the duties of a wife.
Her palms grew slick with sweat from the tension.
She sat frozen, her mind spinning wildly. The words we're not close to etched themselves into her thoughts over and over like a branding iron.
The atmosphere in the car was suffocatingly quiet.
Other than the occasional honk from outside, only the rustling of paper and the scratch of a pen as Ethan signed documents could be heard.
It was a critical period for Tiancheng Group's merger with E.R's headquarters. The paperwork was endless.
Taking advantage of the ride, Ethan finished signing the last document, then turned his head.
The girl beside him sat just as rigidly as she had every other time she rode in his car—body subtly angled away from him, back ramrod straight, posture proper to the point of stiffness, as if expecting a reprimand at any moment.
But tonight, something was different.
Since boarding the car, her brows had been furrowed—anxious, clearly burdened.
Ethan quietly closed the file and placed it aside. Then he asked, "Something on your mind?"
The question, dropped without warning into the silence, startled Elena.
She blinked and replayed his words in her head before quietly shaking her head. "No."
Ethan's brows drew together slightly.
Her mood had been the same all day—from the family luncheon, to the birthday dinner, even during the evening meal at the old estate. The only change came after she'd seen Adrian.
Since then, she has barely spoken a word.
Ethan's eyes darkened subtly.
But outwardly, his expression remained composed.
"Seeing Adrian really unsettled you that much?"
Those three words—marital duties—were like a thorn pressing against Elena's nerves. The closer they got to Yushan Manor, the more tightly that anxiety coiled around her chest.
She even considered searching online for tips to calm herself down.
But before she could unlock her phone, Ethan's unexpected question snapped her out of her thoughts.
She took a moment to process it and couldn't understand why the conversation had circled back to Adrian.
Again, she shook her head. "No, not really."
Ethan studied her for a moment. Whether he believed her or not, he didn't say. He only offered quietly, "If seeing him makes you uncomfortable, we'll avoid visiting the old estate from now on."
Elena didn't object to that arrangement.
In fact, she had already planned to minimize contact with Adrian.
The driver maintained a steady and swift pace.
It wasn't long before they arrived at Yushan Manor.
Driver Xiao Zhang opened the car door for them. "Mr. Jiang, Madam, we've arrived."
Elena stepped out and followed Ethan inside.
As with her last visit, the manor remained free of servants.
But unlike before, the looming expectation of what was to come made her legs feel weak. Each step she took up the stairs behind Ethan grew heavier.
By the time they reached the third floor, Elena gathered her courage and hesitantly asked:
"... Ethan, where am I sleeping tonight?"
Ethan chuckled softly as he stepped onto the last stairs and turned to look at her.
"It's our wedding night, Elena. Where else would you sleep, if not the master bedroom?"
Her nerves, already strained, began to fray completely under the weight of his gaze.
She bit her lower lip, trying to avert her eyes from the depth in his.
But before she could turn, his hand wrapped around her wrist.
The heat of his touch burned against her skin, and her fingers trembled slightly.
His voice, deep and magnetic, fell from above her head:
"It's almost half past nine, Elena."
Elena had no recollection of how she got from the staircase to the bedroom. The next thing she knew, the door was closed behind her.
A shadow loomed over her, and a firm, heated palm pressed against her waist. The crisp scent of wood and cool cologne wrapped around her senses—sharp, masculine, and overwhelming.
She tensed instinctively, trying to back away.
But her back was already pressed flat against the door—there was nowhere else to go.
Her heart thundered in her chest, faster than ever before. And yet, her mind was crystal clear—so clear that the tingling from their lips brushing, the heat of their mingled breath, seemed to sear straight through her and into her bones.
Ethan's eyes locked onto her face, closely observing every twitch of her expression.
She was tense, her eyes shut tightly, lashes trembling like the wings of a butterfly flailing in water.
His gaze darkened further.
His hand moved to the back of her head, firm and inescapable, tilting her face up toward him. With a low, commanding pressure, he pried open her lips—claiming the unexplored corners of a space that now belonged to him alone.
The moment his tongue breached the threshold, Elena's heart stopped cold.
The intimacy—the invasion—was too much. She reflexively clenched her teeth, biting down.
The faint taste of blood rose instantly in the air.
The kiss broke.
Elena's eyes flew open. She saw the crimson bead forming at the corner of Ethan's lips and looked up at him like a panicked little animal, eyes glistening.
"I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"
Ethan didn't seem bothered by the wound.
His thumb gently brushed over her flushed, swollen lips, the touch lingering.
Then came the low, magnetic murmur—
"You've never been kissed before?"