Heatbound Dependence - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

My eyes were covered by a black cloth as she held my arm and led me forward.

The entire way, we remained silent, only the sound of footsteps could be heard.

Yet my heart pounded violently in my chest, my thoughts a chaotic whirlwind.

Second Young Master? Who? What does he want with me?

Did he find out I took money to throw the match…

No, that makes no sense.

Not only are there very few people who know about this shady deal involving fame and fortune, but I also think I acted very naturally in the ring just now.

If I really went all out and fought recklessly, I might not have lost.

But being cautious during the bout-that can’t be considered a flaw.

So what exactly…

“We’re here.”

The Alpha woman beside me suddenly stopped walking and said flatly.

I heard the sound of a door opening.

Then.

“Ugh-”

“-Thud!”

Caught off guard, a tremendous force shoved me from behind, and with a gasp, I stumbled forward uncontrollably, crashing to the floor.

…That heavy thud was the sound of my kneecap hitting the ground.

Bracing myself with my arms aggravated the wounds from the earlier fight, and I couldn’t help but grimace.

Before I could speak, the black cloth covering my eyes was yanked off.

I slowly opened my eyes and looked up.

I saw a pair of crossed, exceptionally attractive-

legs.

Pure black leather boots hung right in front of me, paired with long stockings that beautifully accentuated the lines of his legs.

Above the black stockings were slender, fair calves below the knees, and leather garters that dug into his skin with a provocative tightness.

Anything higher… wasn’t something I could look at.

Such refined elegance-I knew at a glance I couldn’t afford to provoke him.

Moreover, when I looked up just now, I caught a glimpse from the corner of my eye of two tall, burly bodyguards standing beside him.

I averted my gaze and lowered my head.

The crossed legs of the person seated across from me dropped with a soft “tap” as he uncrossed them.

Then lazily lifted one foot again.

The toe of his leather boot pressed against my chest.

“Chi Mian…”

His velvety voice was sweet as melting honey, tinged with amusement as he savored my name on his lips, like an intimate whisper between lovers.

Then, I felt the pressure from his boot toe increase.

His words still carried that soft, gentle laugh, as if describing something utterly delightful:

“You were completely helpless up there in the ring just now.”

“…”

I lowered my eyes and said nothing.

Though I had no idea about this person’s temper, from years of experience in the Black Market, I knew one truth:

– Speaking too much leads to mistakes; it’s better to stay silent.

The next moment.

A vicious kick sent me sprawling to the ground!

“Ah- ugh…”

Before I could push myself up, the pure black leather boot ground into my stomach, maliciously pressing against my bleeding wound, pushing down.

“Cough, cough…”

I coughed sharply twice, my abdomen burning with searing pain.

A cold, pale hand gripped my throat.

Tightening.

I looked up and met a look of contemptuous mockery.

A youth with a noble yet petulant face stared down at me from above, a sweet smile curling on his lips, but his deep black eyes held no mirth.

The fingers choking my throat brushed ambiguously over my jawline as he enunciated each word:

“Trash. Made me lose money.”