Mad Boss's Twisted Devotion: The Delicate Darling Dazed by His Kisses - Chapter 1

Outside was an ink-black night so deep it seemed impenetrable. The massive floor-to-ceiling windows were spotless and transparent, reflecting the warm, intimate yellow glow that filled the room.

The man in the bathrobe had sharp, handsome features. His damp black hair dripped a few beads of water that traced a path down his pale skin, disappearing into the deep V-neck of his robe.

His phoenix eyes were half-lowered, the epitome of cool indifference and propriety, yet nestled in his arms was a soft, fragrant beauty.

“Mr. Pei, Yaoyao has admired you for a long time.”

Her voice was delicate and seductive, the trembling end of her words seeming to carry a hook.

A flicker of disgust flashed in the man’s unyielding eyes, shattering the faint trace of anticipation as he furrowed his brows.

The beauty sitting on his lap, however, seemed to space out for a moment, her body stiffening slightly.

They were too close.

Her delicate, pale face tilted upward, brushing near his ear, her rosy lips grazing the sharp line of his jaw ever so slightly.

It seemed that if he merely lowered his head, their lips would meet.

Late at night in a hotel, a man and a woman alone, intimately entwined.

From any angle, the scene was charged with intense ambiguity.

But the once alluring beauty slowly blinked her long lashes, her round almond-shaped eyes clear and innocent, so much so that the sudden confusion gathering within them was unmistakable.

Mr. Pei?

She shifted her gaze, taking in the strikingly handsome face before her.

He appeared to be around twenty-eight or twenty-nine, with deep-set brows and sharp phoenix eyes.

He exuded the oppressive aura of someone long accustomed to power, his tightly pressed lips thin and unyielding.

And she was sitting on his lap, actively leaning into his embrace.

As the realization dawned, Jiang Yaoyao’s cheeks flushed pink. But before she could utter another word, the man’s large hand clamped around her wrist like an iron vise, ruthlessly lifting it.

The sharpened dagger in her grip gleamed coldly under the light, radiating a biting, razor-sharp chill.

Jiang Yaoyao’s pupils dilated slightly, her focus locking onto the dagger in her hand as if struck by lightning.

Mr. Pei, Yaoyao, dagger, ambush.

She had transmigrated!

Into the cliché, melodramatic novel she had stayed up all night reading, and she had become the cannon-fodder female character who shared her name, Jiang Yaoyao!

While reading, she had endured the eerie sense of familiarity, watching as the cannon-fodder Jiang Yaoyao showcased her foolishness in the cutthroat entertainment industry, and how, under the manipulation of a scumbag, she charged headlong into love. She had actively knocked on the door of the villainous big shot Pei Heng, intending to seduce him as a pretext to stab him and then frame him for sexually assaulting a female actress.

Unfortunately, there was an insurmountable gap in intelligence between the cannon-fodder female character and the villainous big shot.

That night, Pei Heng opened the door to the presidential suite, playing along and coldly watching as Jiang Yaoyao entered.

However, Jiang Yaoyao never walked out of that room again.

Because after her failed attempt to stab him, the ruthless villain skinned her, removed her tendons, and carved her bones, turning her into a lantern.

The scapegoat Jiang Yaoyao, who had arrived at just the right moment: “!!!”

A bone-chilling cold crept up her spine, leaving the back of her head icy and numb.

She glanced at the blade gleaming with a cold, eerie light, then at the villainous magnate Pei Heng, whose handsome face was icy and gaze sinister. Thinking of herself about to become a human-skin lantern, she nearly leaped off Pei Heng’s lap in terror!

Under Pei Heng’s frosty, piercing gaze, her small face paled, her dewy eyes widened into perfect circles, and the corners of her eyes lifted slightly, like a kitten whose tail had just been stepped on.

Beautiful and delicate.

Her soft, sweet voice melted like honey, her thick lashes fluttering uncontrollably in sheer panic.

“Pei Heng, Pei Heng.”

The man, who had been radiating murderous intent, abruptly lifted his eyes the moment he heard her call his name.

Shock rippled deep within his calm, unfathomable eyes. The hand resting on the armrest tightened abruptly, blue veins bulging and crisscrossing.

The flustered girl waved her small hands frantically, the dagger in her palm swaying along with the motion. The cold gleam on the blade made it look even more like a crime scene where a stabbing had just occurred.

Her eyes wide, her wrist trembled, and with a “swish,” she flung the dagger onto the carpet.

The metal weapon tumbled a couple of times on the rug, landing with a dull thud.

Jiang Yaoyao quickly raised her hands, like a primary school student caught misbehaving in class, desperately trying to prove her innocence.

“You’ve misunderstood me, that’s not what I meant, Pei Heng, I really wasn’t trying to do anything.”

“You’re so skilled, with your jujitsu and sanda, I’d have to be insane to try and hurt you.”

“This entire hotel is your family’s property. Even if I did try something, I wouldn’t even make it out the door before being caught and dragged back…”

Trembling with fear, she stumbled through her explanation, drawing on every impression she had of Pei Heng from the book.

She was too panicked, too desperate to save her own life, and so she naturally missed the subtle shifts in Pei Heng’s expression.

His deep, unfathomable eyes shifted from venomous coldness to stunned shock, then flickered with hidden thoughts before settling into an expressionless calm under his scrutinizing gaze.

No matter how composed he appeared on the surface, a storm raged within Pei Heng’s heart. His chest burned and tingled, and the lines of his face tightened.

For years, he had been having the same recurring dream.

If it could even be called a dream after all, aside from himself, no one else had ever seen his Yaoyao.

That slender figure, clinging to him with delicate affection, her voice unbearably soft, calling his name over and over:

“Pei Heng, Pei Heng…”

As the dream deepened, that face grew clearer.

Almond-shaped eyes, peach-blossom cheeks, brows and gaze brimming with tenderness.

Whenever she looked at him, she always smiled, her dark hair and red lips soft and obedient.

Pure and beautiful, like a little fairy who had fallen from the heavens to the mortal world.

She never scorned the mire he was trapped in, coming to him countless times, stepping over the moonlight.

Later, he searched his memories and found the face from his dreams.

With just one glance, the hope in his heart froze into ice.

Filthy mud could never become a white moonlight.

Those eyes, steeped in greed and foolishness, were not his little fairy.

Years of delusional longing had ended in utter disappointment.

All these years, he had hoped his little fairy would return to that body, tolerating that fool more than he should. But today, his patience had reached its limit.

If she used that body to seduce him today, tomorrow she could seduce someone else.

How dare that fool!

The murderous intent was sharp and fierce; he wished he could skin her alive, strip her bones, and subject her to repeated torture to vent the fury in his heart.

After a long while, Jiang Yaoyao, her lips dry from speaking, pursed her crimson lips. Her delicate face was filled with terror as she softly called out:

“Mr. Pei.”

Her soft voice was exactly the same as in his dreams. The man with sharp features snapped out of his thoughts. Listening to his own racing heartbeat, he tried not to frighten her and spoke gently:

“Pick it up.”

Jiang Yaoyao grew even more afraid.

Trembling, she picked up the dagger from the floor. When her gaze fell upon the sharp blade, her eyelashes fluttered, and she quickly averted her eyes.

Pei Heng’s aura was too terrifying; Jiang Yaoyao’s legs were nearly buckling from fear.

The man narrowed his phoenix-like eyes, focusing on the fingers gripping the dagger.

The foolish Jiang Yaoyao was left-handed.

But the Jiang Yaoyao before him, in her extreme fear, had instinctively used her right hand.

Indeed, she had been replaced.

His little fairy had finally fallen into the grand web of the mortal world, coming to save him with her very being.

The man’s gaze softened slightly as he took the dagger from her, holding it in his palm and stroking the intricately carved hilt.

He remained silent for a long time, and the air grew deathly still.

The little drum in Jiang Yaoyao’s heart beat wildly; she was on the verge of tears, terrified by the thought of her own gruesome fate.

“Mr. Pei.”

Her soft voice trembled slightly, and her delicate fingertips quivered.

Dressed in a white gown, she resembled a fragile and delicate camellia, unable to withstand even the slightest wind or rain, meant only to be cherished deep within the manor’s flowerbeds.

At the slightest hint of a storm, she would shed delicate tears like precious pearls.

Trembling with fear, Jiang Yaoyao was pulled back into the man’s embrace as he gently stroked her head.

His deep voice carried a coaxing tone, tender and alluring, as if his very breath enveloped her ears:

“You said you admired me. And then?”