Sealed tightly against Olivia Young’s chest, Frederick Fairfax sulked, whining like a wronged puppy.
He refused to believe he was one of those men who couldn’t perform.
A man simply couldn’t admit defeat!
What was so wrong with loving his wife and showering her with kisses?
Was it a crime to leave a few hickeys on his beloved?
His wife’s skin was soft, smooth, and fragrant—how could he bear not to kiss her more? If he didn’t, he’d feel cheated.
“So, from now on, no more kisses—just straight to doing it?”
His wife seemed to prefer things rough.
Clearly he’d misunderstood her.
He didn’t get her kinks.
“I was teasing you.”
Olivia Young finally gave in. The difference between the rebellious, arrogant Frederick Fairfax of the past and the grumbling, needy version before her was striking—but, every now and then, it was kind of cute.
“What do you mean, Olivia Young? Say it properly—which part was teasing?”
“Honestly, I did great last night. You were crazy about me, weren’t you?”
“You always knew how to sweet-talk me—and sometimes bluff. Remember how you used to say the kid’s dad was a real stud?”
He peppered kisses along her lips. “Tell me. Even if you’re just humoring me, say it, okay?”
Olivia Young, worn thin by his onslaught of kisses, covered his mouth. “You did fine last night, all right? Just try to leave fewer hickeys next time. My skin’s delicate—it takes ages for your marks to fade. Besides...”
“Summer’s on the way. I want to wear pretty little dresses, and you can’t keep leaving hickeys everywhere! If you must, at least keep them where a skirt covers. Got it?”
Got it.
Still, he felt a little defiant!
But in winter, wouldn’t it be fair game to leave marks all over her?
No, that wouldn’t work either.
She liked to dress lightly at home with the heaters on, even in winter.
“So... you were pretty satisfied last night, right?”
“Needs more practice.”
Frederick Fairfax: “...”
Utterly defeated.
Please hold the mourning paper*.
* (Joke: referencing Chinese grieving ritual—he’s acting as if he’s died of shame.)
Aaaagh!
In his mind, Frederick Fairfax lashed out wildly at the air, shadow-boxing his frustration.
He really did need to up his game!!!
His wife looked down on him.
Olivia Young got out of bed.
Frederick Fairfax lay there, staring listlessly at the ceiling.
He’d given it his all last night.
Still his wife had complaints.
He wanted to die, but not literally.
Olivia Young finished washing up, changed clothes, and saw him still on the bed.
She bent over and gently cupped his cheeks. “Cheche, you’re not getting up?”
“Nope. Conserving my strength for tonight’s rematch!”
“That’s not how it works. You need to eat! No food, no energy.”
Frederick Fairfax pulled her closer, gaze sincere. “Was it really that bad?”
“Don’t overthink it. Next time will be even better.”
She stole a quick kiss. “Now up! Gotta earn formula money—are you giving up on raising our daughter?”
Never. He’d raise his daughter—and his wife too.
“Just one more kiss.”
Olivia Young stared at him. “If you keep kissing, we’ll start looking like a married couple that’s beginning to resemble each other.”
“I’m so handsome, even a couple look won’t make you less beautiful.”
Shameless narcissist!
Olivia Young, good-natured as ever, gave him a few more quick pecks and finally managed to coax him out of bed.
Thank goodness she didn’t have a public Weibo, or she’d definitely be tempted to post about waking him up with kisses!
Reluctantly, Frederick Fairfax went off to work.
Olivia Young finally had a moment to herself; she played with her daughter and scrolled through Grace Gordon’s messages from last night.
As she was reading, her phone rang.
She took the call. “Lily, you took me off your block list.”
Walking out of the nursery, Olivia Young replied coolly, “Didn’t you try to steal my family’s project just to make me talk to you, Grace Gordon? What exactly do you want?”
“Let’s meet.”
“Sorry, I’m busy raising kids at home. No time.”
“Then I’ll come find you.”
Was he crazy?
If he showed up here, Frederick Fairfax would flip out, rush home from work, and the two of them would probably start fighting.
Uh...
Who would win in a fight—Grace Gordon or Frederick Fairfax?
Definitely the male lead.
Sinking into the living room sofa, Olivia Young replied lazily, “Grace Gordon, don’t get any wrong ideas. Taking you off my block list wasn’t compromise—it was to tell you that nothing you do will change things between us. People need to move on. Don’t make me despise you.”
Grace Gordon suddenly blurted, “I checked.”
“Checked what?”
“You never met Frederick Fairfax abroad. The two of you never went on dates overseas. Is that kid really his?”
He knew nothing!
Back then, she and Frederick Fairfax had covered their tracks so well that even he hadn’t found out what really happened—and there was no way Grace Gordon would, either.
“If it was all just a marriage alliance, why can’t I compete!!”
Grace Gordon bellowed.
“Grace Gordon, I don’t love you anymore. Isn’t that enough? You think you know everything? You want to know if I was with Frederick Fairfax, or if we dated overseas? Just go ask some of my classmates or coworkers—see if they’d know about my private life!”
Olivia Young laughed lightly. “We’re both adults. If it’s not love, then it’s over. It’s not like we were ever really together. Why not focus on Annabelle Winters? She’s been through so much after losing her child—she could use your company.”
“Lily, she’s nothing like you! You two aren’t the same at all!”
Those words sounded awfully familiar.
In the original novel, once Grace Gordon fell for Annabelle Winters, he’d always shout at her like this.
“Olivia Young, she’s not your substitute, you two aren’t alike at all, she’s nowhere near as scheming as you! I regret ever meeting you.”
Olivia Young used to feel hurt by those words when she first realized she was inside the book.
But now? No ripple of emotion.
She almost wanted to laugh.
She was just an NPC (non-player character), after all.
She didn’t deserve all this drama.
What did it matter if they were blissfully happy together?
Would their love be any less real if they never faced obstacles?
“Congratulations—at least you’re not blind!”
Pretty women might share similarities, but it’s clear: she and Annabelle Winters each have their own kind of beauty.
“Lily, then what about us—”
“Almost forgot—I unblocked you just to yell at you. Grace Gordon, is something wrong with your brain? If you can’t get me, you go after my family’s business? Did you really think the daughter of the Young family would compromise over a minor project? Don’t forget who my husband is. Even if my family went bankrupt, I’d never grovel to you! My husband is Frederick Fairfax—he’s loaded, he could pamper me and my ancestors for eight generations! You absolute @￥￥%%……￥#@￥￥%%……*^&^&”
Dropping her privileged upbringing, Olivia Young laid into him with a furious verbal tirade.
Call ended.
See? No one would put up with such abuse.
She blocked Grace Gordon again.
That’s where he belonged: the blacklist.
Annabelle Winters, too.
Maybe one day he’d finally focus on the people by his side.
After all, the person closer to you always has the best shot.
With him unmoved, soon enough the second male lead would pop up to stir trouble!
At noon, Olivia Young had a warm meal with her grandfather.
Suddenly, Frederick Fairfax—suited and booted—burst in, grabbed Olivia Young, and whisked her away.