Chapter 286 - 282: Old-School Romance Novel Heroine 2

Chapter 286: Chapter 282: Old-School Romance Novel Heroine 2

Sunlight, sharp as shattered glass, pierced Ji Xiaosong’s eyes. She raised a hand to block the glare. The coffee on her desk had long gone cold.

A hangover made her temples throb. A faint bruise on her collarbone served as a reminder of the previous night’s recklessness.

She twisted open a bottle of water and took several large gulps. As the ice-cold liquid slid down her throat, she suddenly recalled the scorching hot lips of the man in the darkness.

"Sister Xiaosong?"

The intern, Lin, stood at the door holding a stack of files. "The people from the Huo Group have arrived early. They’re waiting for you in the conference room."

Ji Xiaosong’s pen dragged a long line of ink across the proposal.

The Huo Group. A behemoth that controlled the financial lifeline of half the city.

She quickly reapplied her lipstick in her compact mirror. The reflection showed a woman whose bloodshot eyes were perfectly masked by concealer, but whose slightly trembling fingers betrayed her secret.

The glass door of the conference room reflected her ramrod-straight back.

The moment she pushed the door open, a gust of cold, cedar-scented air from the AC washed over her.

A man sat at the far end of the long table, flipping through a file. The soft rustle of paper turning under his slender fingers made Ji Xiaosong go rigid.

"Hello, Mr. Huo. I’m the project lead, Ji Xiaosong."

Her voice was as taut as a violin string.

The man looked up, and the scar on his brow bone glinted coldly under the overhead lights.

Ji Xiaosong’s breath caught in her throat. That was the mark she had accidentally left when she’d clawed at him in the heat of passion the night before.

Huo Chen’s gaze swept over every curve beneath her business suit like an X-ray before finally landing on her suddenly flushed earlobe.

"Miss Ji."

He closed the folder, his metal cufflinks glinting coldly. "Does your company really think you can fob off the Huo Group with a proposal that plagiarizes the competition?"

The PowerPoint on the projection screen suddenly blurred before her eyes.

Ji Xiaosong gripped the laser pointer, her nails digging into her palm.

She recognized that voice. Its deep, husky timbre was the same as the breathless pants that had brushed against her ear in the heat of last night.

"According to third-party data, our conversion rate is higher than the industry average..."

Her explanation was cut short by the sound of a pen tapping against the desk.

"I’m not looking for average."

Huo Chen stood up, the fabric of his suit rustling with an intimidating whisper.

He walked in front of the projector, his shadow completely engulfing Ji Xiaosong. "I want a groundbreaking concept."

He suddenly leaned in, his tie dangling in front of her. The deep blue silk carried the familiar, lingering scent of his aftershave.

Ji Xiaosong’s knees hit the edge of the table.

This was the same scent that had filled the hotel suite last night, seeping into her memory mixed with alcohol and sweat.

Huo Chen’s thin lips were now inches away—the very same culprits that had kissed every inch of her body.

"Three days."

Huo Chen retreated to a safe distance and tossed the proposal onto the table. "I want to see a new plan, redone from scratch."

As he turned, Ji Xiaosong glimpsed a faint scratch on the back of his neck—proof of her loss of control during her climax.

The meeting concluded in a suffocating silence.

Ji Xiaosong rushed into the restroom. The cold water she splashed on her face did nothing to cool her burning cheeks.

Her reflection’s lips were slightly swollen—suggestive evidence that even her frantic brushing that morning couldn’t erase.

Her phone vibrated. A text from an unknown number contained only a terse address and time:

[8PM, Cloudtop 2801]

*

The elevator ride to the top floor felt like a stay of execution.

Ji Xiaosong repeatedly checked that her recording pen was on. She also had a can of pepper spray hidden in her suit pocket.

But when the suite door slid open silently, the wave of cigar and whiskey scent that hit her still sent a shiver down her spine.

Huo Chen stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, the amber liquid in his glass reflecting the city lights.

He wasn’t wearing his jacket, his shirtsleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms—the same hands that had left bruises on her waist the night before.

"Sit."

He gestured to the sofa but remained in the shadows. "You left something behind last night."

Her lipstick and a hairpin lay on the coffee table next to a conspicuously open alligator-skin wallet, stamped with the gold letters ’HS’.

Ji Xiaosong’s fingertips dug into the leather sofa. "What do you want, Mr. Huo? Hush money? Or a written promise of my silence?"

She deliberately let the recording pen clatter softly inside her bag.

Huo Chen suddenly laughed.

He walked over and knelt on one knee before her. The posture, looking up at her, should have diminished his intimidating presence, but the dark gleam in his eyes was more suffocating than ever.

"Do you know why I rejected your proposal this morning?"

His fingers brushed against her ankle, right over a faint bite mark. "You lost focus seventeen times. You glanced at my tie six times. You even misstated the data on three separate occasions."

Ji Xiaosong shot to her feet, only to be yanked back down onto the sofa by her wrist.

Huo Chen’s presence descended upon her, and memories of the previous night flooded back in a rush.

"Let go!"

She kneed him in the stomach, but he caught her leg as if he’d been expecting it.

"Now this is the real you."

Huo Chen gripped her chin, his thumb brushing across her trembling lips. "Your attempt to act calm in the conference room was laughably transparent."

He suddenly released her and tossed a folder in her lap. "I want genuine creativity, not a social mask."

The files scattered, revealing the bold proposal her own company had shot down six months ago.

Ji Xiaosong looked up, stunned. Huo Chen was standing by the bar pouring a drink, his profile etched sharply by the cool blue lighting.

"Why..."

"Because 2801 is my personal suite."

He handed her a glass, the ice sphere inside clinking musically. "Last night, you cursed Chen Mo’s name forty-three times and said you were going to feed his bones to the dogs."

A dangerous smirk played on his lips. "I admire that kind of follow-through."

The blood in Ji Xiaosong’s veins froze, then instantly began to boil.

Her eyes finally focused on a screen on the coffee table, which was displaying a live security feed: Chen Mo and Yang Yang, kissing in the bar downstairs at this very moment.

"The proposal presentation. In three days."

Huo Chen slid a keycard across to her. "I want to see a plan more interesting than just getting revenge on your ex-boyfriend."

As he turned, a leather wallet peeked out from the back pocket of his trousers, and Ji Xiaosong suddenly recognized it as a bespoke piece from a luxury brand.

The floor-to-ceiling window reflected their images—one sitting, one standing. The moonlight edged their dangerous game in silver.

Ji Xiaosong swallowed the burning whiskey, a sudden realization dawning on her: the extent of Huo Chen’s investigation into her life went far beyond what was appropriate for a simple one-night stand.

Her fingers clutched the keycard, its edge digging so hard into her skin it nearly broke the surface.

Huo Chen stood at the window, his back ramrod-straight and distant, as if their charged encounter had been nothing but her own illusion.

"Mr. Huo."

She forced herself to remain calm, but her voice still trembled slightly. "You investigated me?"

Huo Chen didn’t turn back. He only swirled his glass, the clinking of ice against crystal cutting through the silent room.

"Miss Ji, did you think last night was a coincidence?"

Ji Xiaosong’s breath caught. "2801 is my private suite. The security system logs everyone who approaches."

He turned, his gaze sharp as a blade. "And you were the only one who could walk right in."

Ji Xiaosong’s blood ran cold.

She shot to her feet, the chair scraping dully against the carpet.

"You set me up?"

The corners of Huo Chen’s mouth lifted, but there was no warmth in the gesture.

"I was just curious. How much destructive force can a woman who put her own fiancé in the hospital on their wedding day truly possess?"

Ji Xiaosong’s fists clenched, her nails digging so deep they nearly broke the skin of her palms.

She stared hard at Huo Chen, trying to find a crack in his facade, but he simply met her gaze, his own eyes deep and unreadable.

"So, you arranged everything last night?"

Her voice was low and hoarse, thick with suppressed rage.

Huo Chen slowly closed the distance between them until they were close enough to feel each other’s breath.

He raised a hand, his long fingers gently brushing her cheek as if touching a fragile piece of porcelain.

"No."

His voice was low, carrying a dangerous allure. "Everything that happened last night was your own choice."

Ji Xiaosong took a sharp step back, her heart hammering in her chest.

She couldn’t deny it. She had been the one to kiss him. She had let herself sink into a chaotic haze of alcohol and rage.

But Huo Chen’s words were like a scalpel, precisely cutting away her facade.

"What do you really want?" she asked through gritted teeth.

Huo Chen’s gaze slowly swept over her face before locking onto her eyes.

"I want your proposal. And I want your honesty."

He paused. "In three days, I want to see the real Ji Xiaosong, not the corporate elite hiding behind a social mask."

Ji Xiaosong’s chest heaved. She suddenly realized that Huo Chen wasn’t threatening her—he was challenging her.

He had seen through her every pretense, yet he was still giving her a chance. A chance to prove herself.

"And if I refuse?" she lifted her chin in defiance.

Huo Chen chuckled, turning to walk to the bar and pour himself another drink.

"Then you’re free to leave."

He took a sip of whiskey, his tone indifferent. "But you should think carefully. You can either continue to live in Chen Mo’s shadow, or you can seize this opportunity to turn the tables."

Ji Xiaosong’s fingertips trembled.

She knew Huo Chen was right. She could keep pretending to be strong, pretending that betrayal hadn’t crushed her, but she couldn’t lie to herself.

"Fine."

She took a deep breath, meeting Huo Chen’s gaze directly. "In three days, I’ll give you a flawless proposal."

Huo Chen gave a slight nod, an imperceptible flicker of satisfaction in his eyes.

Ji Xiaosong turned and walked to the door, but she paused with her hand on the handle.

Without turning back, she asked in a low voice, "Why me?"

Silence stretched for a few seconds before Huo Chen’s deep voice answered, "Because only someone who has been broken knows how to rebuild the world."

Ji Xiaosong’s hand tightened on the doorknob. Then she pushed the door open and left.

The hallway lights were harsh and cold. Her heart still hadn’t settled.

She didn’t know what Huo Chen was plotting, but she knew one thing for certain: in this game, she would no longer be a sitting duck.

In three days, she would show him that Ji Xiaosong was no one’s pawn.