The Heartless Alpha Just Wants to Follow the Plot - Chapter 24

At that, Su Mo almost laughed out of sheer anger.

“What do you take me for?”

“Do you think I’m the kind of person who can just be casual with anyone?”

Qiu Fu pressed her lips together and turned her head away.

“Pu Ying isn’t that kind of person.”

Su Mo didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She stepped forward, bracing one knee on the sofa, and lifted Qiu Fu’s chin with one hand, forcing her to look up. Bending down, she fixed her with a gaze that was rare in its seriousness.

“She’s not casual—but do I really look like someone who is?”

Startled, Qiu Fu shrank back instinctively. She hadn’t wanted to answer, but with her chin held fast, she couldn’t avoid it.

Under Su Mo’s clear, unclouded gaze, she stubbornly met her eyes and blurted out without thinking,

“Aren’t you?”

Su Mu: “?”

“You don’t like me—not that way. You don’t genuinely want to be with anyone, yet you were still willing to do something like that with me. If that’s not being casual, then what is?”

Qiu Fu knew full well that if she truly angered Su Mo, the other woman might refuse to detox her—and without the antidote, she would either be crippled or die.

But even so, she still wanted to say it.

“You don’t like me, so why force yourself to save me? We’re not even that special to each other.”

She genuinely didn’t understand. There was no one who could threaten Su Mo into doing this. So why would she push herself into such a situation?

It had nothing to do with her at all.

Su Mo actually paused to think about it. Then she answered solemnly,

“For fifty million.”

Qiu Fu blinked, confused.

“What?”

“For the fifty million you owe me.”

Whenever money was involved, Su Mo’s expression would always turn uncharacteristically serious—almost reverent, like the light of true love. Qiu Fu choked.

She hadn’t expected that between two omegas and a beta, Su Mo would choose credits.

Really.

What a plain and honest answer.

But then.

“If omegas and betas don’t interest you, could it be that you like alphas?”

The question came out of nowhere, startling enough to make even Su Mo freeze. She let go of Qiu Fu’s chin and said stiffly,

“That probably not?”

She wasn’t interested in Qiu Fu or Pu Ying, but she’d never found herself interested in any other alphas either.

So, it probably wasn’t about gender.

Qiu Fu looked even more puzzled.

“Then how do you manage to stay completely unmoved when two high-level omegas—and a beta who’s among the best—are all showing interest in you?”

For most alphas, even a single omega showing affection would be enough to announce it to the world. Whether they liked them or not, if the compatibility was high enough, they might even get married on the spot.

Someone like Su Mo, indifferent to both was exceedingly rare.

Su Mo frowned, genuinely confused.

“Is that something I’m supposed to feel proud of?”

Being pursued?

Was she?

Back on Earth, she’d rarely been liked. She was always cast as villains—antagonists, dark roles, undercover characters who turned evil. To most people, she was nothing more than a “bad guy.” Positive roles were few and far between.

Even her small fanbase joked that she was a professional villain, that every script she received was either an outright antagonist or a morally corrupted one. It had troubled her for a while.

But being able to act made her happy.

Just like now—constantly staying in character, blending performance into everyday life, always reminding herself not to go out of character. That made her happy.

She loved the feeling of being immersed, of living as though she was always filming, always earning money.

She liked money.

Back when the orphanage had no money, she couldn’t afford to take the arts entrance exam. After getting into university, she spent all her spare time running from set to set, studying while auditioning, slowly building a name for herself.

Only after graduation—after earning enough—did she begin acting professionally.

To help the orphanage survive, she always kept just one portion of her earnings, set aside living expenses, and transferred everything else to the orphanage’s public account.

So, she was poor.

When work dried up and money ran short, she’d grow anxious and take on any odd job she could find.

She was obsessed with money because, to her, money mattered. It mattered more than anything.

But she also understood that only money earned properly was real money.

Because of her looks and acting background, people at school had often wanted to confess to her. Others would tell her about it—but she never took it seriously. There was nothing to be proud of.

Affection was fickle.

Just like the couple who had once promised to adopt her. They’d spoken sweetly, made beautiful promises—but in the end, they didn’t choose her. Because there were other children in the orphanage who were more obedient, cuter, easier to love.

As a child, Su Mo hadn’t been good-looking. Thin and sickly, barely able to eat, she looked like a little monkey. Many people thought she wouldn’t survive.

After growing up, she became determined to eat more—especially meat.

Years of rejection eroded her confidence. Whenever she heard that someone liked her, her first instinct was to assume it was a joke.

Who would like someone like her?

Unless they had their head caught in a door.

Qiu Fu was stunned by the blunt sincerity of her confusion.

Should she be proud?

By a normal alpha’s standards, maybe.

But, looking into Su Mo’s calm, unruffled eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to say it.

It was such an ordinary question, yet somehow, she heard fragility and insecurity hidden between the words.

She sat up slightly and reached out, cupping Su Mo’s face. From this close, she could see that beneath the surface calm, there was something like unhidden self-doubt in her eyes.

Their faces were close—so close that Qiu Fu could clearly see herself reflected in Su Mo’s gaze.

Softly, she asked,

“Do you get insecure too?”

“Su Mum do you feel sad sometimes?”

Her thumb brushed lightly across the corner of Su Mo’s eye. Without realizing it, that spot had already taken on a faint smoky pink, making her look both cute and subtly alluring.

This was a face that could charm the world.

Yet those eyes—passing over the barely-there red mole at the corner of her eye—held an unexpected purity.

She looked like someone who could handle emotions effortlessly and yet, at this moment, she gazed at Qiu Fu with such innocence, asking whether she should feel proud.

“You know,” Qiu Fu said softly,

“you’re really very heart-stirring.”

Qiu Fu lowered her lashes slightly and, before Su Mo could even react, leaned in and pressed her lips to hers.

“If this is all just an act,” she murmured against her mouth, “then I’m willing—willing to set aside all my pride and surrender to you in this moment.”

Warm lips pressed firmly against her own. Su Mo’s eyes flew open. The calm she had maintained for years faltered, just for an instant but it was enough.

For the first time in her life, her heartbeat skipped.

This felt different from before.

There was something unfamiliar about this kiss.

Almost as if it carried a hint of comfort.

Was she trying to reassure me?

Su Mo didn’t understand. They were clearly nothing more than partners in cooperation—so why would Qiu Fu comfort her like this?

Was this written into the contract?

Her gaze locked onto Qiu Fu’s half-open eyes, searching intently for the emotions hidden beneath the surface.

When Qiu Fu realized Su Mo wasn’t responding at all, she fully opened her eyes. Beneath the tenderness in her gaze, there was a trace of confusion.

Su Mo remained still, simply watching her. When Qiu Fu paused, she finally spoke.

“Is this required by the contract?”

Qiu Fu froze.

“?”

She pulled back slightly, leaving just a sliver of space between them. “What?”

Su Mo asked bluntly, “Are you comforting me because it’s part of the contract?”

Qiu Fu: “…”

Her expression grew complicated, unsure how to respond.

Why would Su Mo think that?

Had she really lost confidence to this extent?

The only granddaughter of a billionaire.

A face that stunned the entire entertainment industry the moment she debuted.

And yet, she was this unsure of herself?

Online, Su Mo was always radiantly confident. Even in their day-to-day interactions, Qiu Fu had never sensed the slightest insecurity. She always carried herself like a born victor—head held high, unyielding.

Even a year ago, when she failed to win the Little Chicken Award, she had still smiled proudly and said, “It’s nothing special. Not that great anyway.”

If it was anyone else, people would have dismissed it as sour grapes.

But this was Su Mo.

Because of the confidence in her eyes and the certainty in her tone, everyone believed her. There was no bitterness—only pride and self-assurance.

And yet now, this very person was showing vulnerability in front of her.

The realization shocked Qiu Fu and made her heart ache.

So s,he answered firmly, “No.”

“There’s nothing in the contract that requires this, Miss Su.”

“I’m doing this because I feel sorry for you. Because I want to tell you, through my actions that you can talk to me more. Rely on me more.”

Her gaze was sincere, so sincere that Su Mo almost forgot she was still inside a scripted plot.

She nearly lost control and went out of character again.

Su Mo curved her lips into a faint smile and lifted a hand to wipe her mouth. “You put it beautifully,” she said. “But right now, I feel like doing something else.”

Qiu Fu: “?”

Qiu Fu blinked, completely lost.

How did the conversation suddenly veer off in that direction?

Before she could figure it out, Su Mo scooped her up effortlessly.

Startled, Qiu Fu instinctively wrapped her arms around Su Mo’s neck. “!”

Su Mo headed straight for the stairs.

“I want to mark you,” she said calmly.

Qiu Fu: “……”

She kicked open the bedroom door—which had already slid open automatically—then hooked her foot back to shut it. Tossing Qiu Fu onto the soft bed, she shrugged off her designer coat and flung it onto the floor.

Rolling her neck, she looked down with a hint of wicked amusement in her eyes.

“Let’s start now. While I still have time. I hear an omega’s heat lasts a long time and requires an alpha’s full cooperation. To avoid running out of stamina, I ate plenty before coming.”

Qiu Fu bounced slightly on the mattress. “……”

Just as Su Mo was about to lean down, Qiu Fu hurriedly pushed against her chest.

“Wait!”

Su Mo tilted her head, puzzled. “What is it?”

Qiu Fu grabbed the blanket, flipped over in a blur, and pulled it over her face, her voice muffled beneath it.

“You can mark me,” she said, “but you can’t consummate the bond.”

Su Mu: “?”

She genuinely didn’t understand what distinction was being made.

Wasn’t a complete mark the same thing as bonding?

Suppressing her impatience, Su Mo asked, “Why?”

“Because.”

A quiet sadness spread through Qiu Fu’s chest.

Because you don’t like me.