As soon as they stepped into the apartment and the door slammed shut, Chen Jin finally lost control. He turned and slapped Lin Wan with all his strength. The force of the blow sent her crashing to the floor, a scream escaping her lips.
"Look at you, Lin Wan. I really underestimated you," Chen Jin snarled, still seething. His rage didn't subside, so he slapped her again, this time following it up with two kicks to the soft flesh of her backside. Lin Wan had been caught off guard and, in the heat of the moment, her temper flared. Why should he always be the one hitting her? If she couldn't fight him off, at least she wouldn't make it easy for him.
With that thought, she scrambled to her feet. Not bothering to argue, she lunged at him like a madwoman, scratching and clawing with abandon. Chen Jin, taken aback by her defiance, was infuriated. To his surprise, she managed to land a hit on his chin. When had she grown those sharp nails?
Usually, men had the upper hand in physical confrontations, but Lin Wan wasn't the delicate type. She had worked out in the past and was no stranger to fighting. Fueled by her fury, she fought like a woman possessed, using everything she had—her nails, her teeth—without hesitation. Her hair, now shorter than before, was no longer a disadvantage. Chen Jin was stunned. They were locked in a chaotic, desperate struggle, each trying to find the other's weak spot. The apartment was filled with the sounds of grunting, clothes tearing, and bodies crashing against furniture.
Chen Jin had suffered a few new injuries, including a bite on his ear that nearly made him resemble a second Van Gogh. His shirt sleeves had torn, and Lin Wan wasn't faring any better. She had bruised her legs on the coffee table, and there were patches of purple on her arms. Worse still, her tank top strap had been torn off by him.
"Are you on fucking steroids or have you gone rabid?" Chen Jin shoved her away, holding his ear, cursing through gritted teeth. Lin Wan said nothing, instead focusing on catching her breath, trying to regain some strength.
Chen Jin's eyes narrowed as he noticed her exposed nude-colored bra. His fury clouded his thoughts. When it came to women, there was one movement he could always count on. Lin Wan, however, wasn't naive. After spending so much time together, they could read each other's intentions with just a glance. She saw the shift in his expression—the glint of desire in his eyes—and knew she had to end this fight quickly.
But she was too late. Before she could act, Chen Jin pounced, pinning her beneath him. He tore off her strapless bra, and without hesitation, a bit down on her chest. Lin Wan gasped in pain, her body arching as she tried to scratch his face, gouge his eyes, but his face was buried in her chest, leaving her no option but to go for his neck. She gripped his throat with all her strength, hearing him hiss in pain. If only she had a knife, she thought. If she did, she wouldn't hesitate for a second to use it.
Chen Jin could feel the searing pain from her grip on his neck. This woman was relentless. He realized she had lost her mind, and the pain was unbearable. Damn, her grip was like a vice. He cursed her in his mind, unable to believe she was capable of such violence.
Breathing heavily, he pulled himself up, trying to free himself from her hold. In the process, he accidentally left an opening, and Lin Wan, seizing the moment, delivered a knee to his groin. If she had been more skilled or if his reaction had been slower, he might have lost all his pride as a man. Cold sweat broke out on his back, partly from shock, partly from the intense pain. Though the blow had missed its intended target, it still hurt like hell.
When a man's "brother" was at risk, he would fight with everything he had. Chen Jin cursed under his breath, realizing this woman was dangerously clever. What the hell was I thinking? I've been too soft on you, Lin Wan. It's time to finish this.
Although their relationship had lasted a while, Lin Wan knew this man far too well. The look in his eyes and the bulging veins in his neck told her she had pushed him too far. This wasn't just a fight anymore—it was turning deadly. Taking advantage of the moment when he was rolling up his sleeves, she shoved him off and sprinted toward the door. But just as her hand touched the doorknob, Chen Jin yanked her back, grabbing her by the ankle.
Another round of furious struggling ensued, filled with curses and screams. When Chen Jin threw Lin Wan back onto the carpet, she had nothing left. She lay there, like a fish out of water, gasping for breath. This was the difference between men and women—men could endure a long fight and only get stronger, while women only had short bursts of strength.
Chen Jin looked down at her, his gaze filled with contempt. His mind replayed her seductive, graceful performance on the stage earlier. He hadn't known her waist could bend like that, how she had danced in front of all those men with such allure. But in front of him, she was stiff, always so rigid. It had made him excited when she moved even a little. But now, she had run to a crowd of men, dancing for them, twisting her body like a snake.
If his anger before had been due to her tarnishing his image, now it was pure, raw jealousy. He thought back to her smile at Chen Xi's birthday party—so bright, so radiant, as she smiled at Fang Zheng. Damn it. She was so generous with other men, but to him, she was cold and distant. He had always been the last one to see her smile, to witness her warmth, her kindness, her beauty.
At that moment, his chest swelled with jealousy. His voice, tight with frustration, was barely a whisper, but full of venom. "So what, huh? You couldn't wait for me, so now you're out looking for another man?"
The words "another man" hit him like a blow to the gut. Every man despised being cuckolded. While it wasn't a done deal, seeing her dance so seductively for a crowd of men had made him picture a hundred green hats, all pointed in his direction.
The thought made him sick. When he looked back at her lying on the floor, he felt a deeper disgust. He sneered, "I was going to take it easy on you, but now? Forget it. No more holding back. You've made it clear you're not satisfied." He unbuckled his belt, flipped her over, and without any foreplay, drove into her violently.
Lin Wan, already drained, realized she couldn't even lift a finger. Her body, however, remained painfully sensitive to his every move. His brutal thrusts made her gasp, and each one felt like it might kill her. She loathed this humiliating position, feeling like an animal, unable to fight back. But she was too tired to do anything but lie there, her face pressed into the soft carpet. What had once felt comforting under her bare feet now only served as another reminder of how everything beautiful could be so easily defiled?
Chen Jin couldn't stand the sight of her detached expression. Grabbing her hair, he forced her to turn her face toward him, then kissed her hard, his tongue invading her mouth. Lin Wan could only endure, her breath coming in strangled gasps, like someone deprived of oxygen.
As he continued his brutal assault, he sneered, "Aren't you supposed to be cold-blooded? I'm going to teach you how to enjoy it. If I don't make you come today, I'll take your last name."
The stakes were high for Lin Wan. Her family, the Lin family, would never accept a man like him. And she feared she might not survive this torture.
True to his word, Chen Jin turned her body in every possible direction, pushing her to the limits of her physical endurance. He had seen the extent of her flexibility and wanted to test it even further. But he had always had it easy in life and didn't understand the meaning of the phrase "things don't always go according to plan."
By the time he finally let her go, Lin Wan was half-conscious, her body broken and exhausted. Chen Jin stood up, walking away with a swagger, as if nothing had happened. Lin Wan lay there silently, blinking through the haze of pain and humiliation. She slowly curled into a ball, trying to block out the agony in her body, focusing instead on imagining herself as a particle in physics—without volume, without shape—so she could ignore the pain and the degradation.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him return, holding a bottle of liquor. She knew it was one of the fine bottles he kept locked away in his cabinet. Expensive, high-quality stuff. But right now, she doesn't care about it. Even though, on nights when she couldn't sleep, alcohol had become her closest companion.