Lauren Shaw gazed at the photograph in her hand—a dust-covered old print, yellowed by age. In it, a pudgy, adorable Yancy Shaw glowed with childish innocence.
Yancy Shaw sat half-reclined on the plush rug in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, propping his chin up with one hand as he quietly watched her. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but his cheeks were tinged pink, lending him a delicious allure.
In a corner, Lauren Shaw found another photo: he had a gold medal hanging around his neck and clutched a trophy in his hand. That youthful face radiated a pure, genuine smile.
“That was when I was fifteen, right after I won the math competition.” His tone was gentle and calm, giving nothing away of his feelings.
She soon realized—there were no photos of him after the age of fifteen anywhere in the house.
Lauren Shaw placed the photos back where she found them and walked over to sit beside Yancy Shaw, wrapping her arms around him. “Did you have a bit too much to drink tonight?”
“No.” Yancy Shaw looked up at her, his eyes bright and clear, sparkling with points of light.
“Sheng Sheng, I want to kiss you.” He pulled her close, his lips stopping just a few centimeters from hers.
Lauren Shaw smiled sweetly. “Okay.” She slid her arms around his neck and lifted her lips to his.
Outside, rain pattered steadily against the glass. It was already winter, and the room was carpeted in plush, warm textures. By the floor-to-ceiling windows, their figures intertwined.
Yancy Shaw held her tightly, and after their kiss, both of them were breathing unsteadily. Lauren Shaw nestled quietly in his embrace.
“Sheng Sheng, are you happy being with me?”
He was chatty tonight, the alcohol loosening his tongue.
“Yes, I’m happy. Are you happy being with me?” Lauren Shaw asked back.
“Incredibly happy.” His voice came low and gravelly, brushing past her ear like a night breeze, making her shiver.
Lauren Shaw shyly pulled away. “I’m going to take a shower.”
He was in such high spirits that he scooped her up. “Good! I want to shower too.”
With that, he carried her straight into the bathroom.
Lauren Shaw’s cheeks flushed red. Once inside, she nudged him. “Go on, I’ll shower by myself.”
Yancy Shaw had only meant to tease her. After carrying her into the bathroom, he backed out good-naturedly.
After Lauren Shaw washed up and stepped back into the room, she found Yancy Shaw fast asleep on the rug by the window.
She went over and gently tapped his shoulder. “Yancheng?”
Yancy Shaw’s eyes snapped open, and he grabbed her hand, pulling her into his arms. His gaze was harsh—almost fierce—as he stared at her.
A pang of unease struck Lauren Shaw; she had never seen him look at her like that.
Realization dawned in Yancy Shaw’s eyes, and his expression softened. “Sorry, I was having a nightmare.”
Lauren Shaw gently smoothed his furrowed brow. “Was it about Grandfather again?”
He nodded. “I dreamed the one who murdered Grandfather is still out there—and he tried to hurt you too.” Worry crept back into his tone.
Lauren Shaw hugged his waist tightly. “Don’t be afraid, nothing will happen to me.”
A knock sounded at the door. Yancy Shaw’s gaze turned cold. “Who is it?”
“Third Young Master, Madam said you had a bit too much to drink, so she asked me to bring you some sobering soup.” Lauren Shaw opened the door and was greeted by a young maid she hadn’t seen before—likely a new hire.
She accepted the bowl from the maid. “Thank you, you can go.”
The maid bobbed a curtsey and withdrew.
Lauren Shaw brought the soup over to Yancy Shaw. “Come on, have a little to sober up.”
Yancy Shaw wrinkled his nose, shaking his head obstinately. “No, I’m not drinking that stuff.”
Ah, drunken Yancy Shaw was like a stubborn child—impossible to reason with.
“Be good. Drink it, and you won’t feel so awful,” Lauren Shaw coaxed.
“Then you feed me.” It was quite a cheeky request.
Lauren Shaw, her eyes glinting slyly, decided not to care whether he was really drunk or just pretending. “If I feed you, you have to promise to shower and go right to bed.”
Yancy Shaw narrowed his eyes with exaggerated seriousness. “Deal.”
Lauren Shaw took a sip of the soup and leaned in close, pressing her lips to his. Yancy Shaw’s eyes sparkled as he drank the soup, laughter glimmering even brighter thereafter.
“Sheng Sheng, help me wash up.”
Lauren Shaw couldn’t help but laugh at how shamelessly he was acting—she’d never realized Yancy Shaw turned into such a rascal when drunk.
Still, she patiently helped him to his feet, got the bath ready, and helped him out of his clothes.
She’d touched his body countless times before, but every time she saw his muscles, she couldn’t help but feel shy all over again.
Yancy Shaw’s clear gaze landed on her, making her own thoughts all the more embarrassing.
“Wash yourself. I’m leaving.” Lauren Shaw spun around and fled for the door.
Watching her beat a hasty retreat, Yancy Shaw couldn’t stop himself from laughing softly.
Once out of the bathroom, Lauren Shaw pressed her burning cheeks and scolded herself, "Lauren Shaw, Lauren Shaw, you’re not some naïve little girl anymore—what are you getting so worked up over?"
When Yancy Shaw finally emerged, Lauren Shaw was already under the covers, snuggled up in bed.
He slipped into the bed in a robe and settled beside her.
“Sheng Sheng.”
“Mm?”
“I love you.” His gentle confession fell on her ears, the sweet words circling again and again—utterly intoxicating.
Lauren Shaw’s heart melted completely.
“Husband,” she replied softly, voice tender as silk.
Yancy Shaw gazed at her with a warmth that made her heart flutter.
Lauren Shaw’s hands wound around his neck. Through the open collar of his robe, she could see his chest. He exuded masculine charm, each movement deepening her fondness for him.
Leaning in, she murmured by his ear: “I want you.”
Yancy Shaw absolutely loved her this way. Breathing mingled, he whispered back, “I’m all yours.”
Before long, the robe was gone.
The room filled with passion. Outside, the storm had passed; inside, love and tenderness spilled over. Now and then soft, kittenish sounds drifted through the air...
——
Harbor City.
Tonight, Nina Shaw was attending a high-class banquet as Xavier Quinn’s companion.
She wore a stunning red dress and delicate makeup, her stunning face unforgettable at a glance.
She hadn’t wanted to attend; if not for the old master’s insistence that she make an appearance. After all, the Qiao family was hosting this event to show off the couple, hoping to quash some rampant rumors.
Xavier Quinn was dressed in a sleek black suit, exuding mature composure—a true force in the business world, worthy of his fearsome reputation.
When they entered together, the guests’ curiosity was piqued: all eyes fixed on them.
“Weren’t they rumored to be on bad terms? Why do they seem so loving tonight?”
“Who knows? Maybe it’s all for show. Those rich families have plenty of loveless marriages—might as well treat it as entertainment.”
...
All the whispers reached another person’s ears.
In the crowd, cup in hand, Sheng Hanxia’s expression changed for a fleeting moment when she saw them arrive, but just as quickly returned to normal.
Nina Shaw’s attendance tonight definitely took everyone by surprise. This was her first time appearing at an event with Xavier Quinn. To call it a social event was generous; it felt more like a staged performance—a play meant to provoke and unsettle.