The dangerous thought, once rooted in Emma's heart, spread like poison ivy—twisting, multiplying, consuming.
It wasn't just retaliation against Gu Liang's cold humiliation and control. It was a desperate, self-destructive impulse. She needed to feel alive. To prove she still had some semblance of freedom—even if it was fake, even if it hurt.
She began watching Gu Liang more closely. Like a patient hunter, searching for cracks in the rules, for any sign of a weakened boundary.
She noticed his life ran like a precision clock. Every Wednesday night, without fail, he visited a private nursing home in the suburbs—where his grandmother, suffering from Alzheimer's, resided. It was the only time he showed genuine emotion. And perhaps, the only time his guard dropped.
She also noticed his hypersensitivity to pheromones—especially to the faintest trace of another Omega on her. Even a brief elevator ride with a pre-heat Omega left a whisper of scent. And Gu Liang would catch it instantly, his eyes flashing a cold warning.
His obsessive control only fueled Emma's rebellion.
She began testing the edges. Small provocations. Barely noticeable. But deliberate.
The first time, after a business gala, she didn't return home immediately. Instead, she went to a bar she used to frequent—known for its high-quality Alpha and Omega clientele. She didn't flirt. She didn't touch anyone. She simply sat in a corner, nursing a drink, letting the chaotic swirl of pheromones wrap around her.
She stayed for an hour. Savoring the illusion of freedom. Of not being watched.
When she returned, it was nearly midnight. The apartment was silent. No light under Gu Liang's door.
She exhaled—relieved, and strangely disappointed. She had expected a confrontation.
She washed up carefully, lay in bed, and could still faintly smell the bar's cocktail of strangers on her skin.
The next morning, everything was normal. Gu Liang read his tablet at breakfast, silent as ever.
But as he stood to leave, he paused—barely perceptible—when passing her.
"If you plan to come home after eleven, notify the housekeeper," he said, without looking at her. "I don't want my sleep disturbed by unnecessary noise."
Emma's grip on her fork tightened. He knew. He knew everything. He just didn't care enough to be angry.
That indifference stung more than any accusation.
Her first attempt had landed like a punch into cotton—soft, humiliating, ineffective.
She wasn't done.
The second time, she pushed further. She invited a female Beta client—who clearly liked her—for dinner. Betas didn't leave strong pheromonal traces. It was safe.
They had a pleasant evening. Afterward, the woman hinted at going to a hotel. Emma declined. But she deliberately stretched the dinner late into the night.
This time, Gu Liang's light was on.
When she entered, he was sitting on the sofa. Not working. Just waiting.
Only one lamp was lit. Its warm glow cast half his face in shadow.
His white tea scent was stronger than usual. Heavy. Oppressive.
Emma's heart skipped. Then twisted into something dark and thrilling. You do care.
"You're back," Gu Liang said, voice calm.
"Mm." She changed her shoes, pretending not to care.
"How was your date with the Beta?" His tone was neutral. Like asking about the weather.
Emma froze. He knew she was a Beta?
She looked up sharply. His eyes met hers from the shadows—deep, cold, bottomless. Like wells that swallowed light and emotion.
"You're spying on me?" she asked, voice tight with restrained fury.
Gu Liang chuckled. Soft. Chilling.
"Spying? No need." He stood and walked toward her, gaze sweeping over her face, her neck, her body.
"Your expression. Your scent. The lingering traces of restaurant grease and cheap perfume—even after you tried to wash it off. Everything tells me what you did tonight."
He stopped in front of her. Close enough to feel each other's breath.
His white tea scent pressed against her like a wall. She could barely breathe.
"Emma," he said quietly, voice low but commanding, "Stop playing childish games. If you want to test my limits, let me be clear."
His eyes were sharp as blades. They pierced her.
"My limit is the contract. You can sleep with Alphas, Betas, even Omegas— As long as you're ready to pay the price."
His voice dropped to a whisper. He leaned in, lips near her ear.
"Losing control of Ai Group. Being stripped of everything. Watching your father's legacy crumble."
"If you think trading your entire empire for one night of 'freedom' is worth it… Go ahead."
His breath was cold against her skin. Her body shivered.
Then he straightened. Turned. Walked away.
This time, he didn't lock the door immediately.
Emma stood frozen. Pale. Breathless.
He had seen through her. Her defiance. Her resentment. Her need to hurt him.
And his answer was simple. Brutal.
He used the one thing she couldn't afford to lose—Ai Group. He turned it into a shackle. Nailed her to this marriage.
Her rebellion was laughable. Pathetic.
She didn't even have the right to cheat.
Because the cost— She couldn't pay.
Gu Liang's door finally closed.
Click.
That sound was the final verdict on all her dangerous thoughts.
Emma slumped against the cold wall. Then slid to the floor.
She had lost. Completely.
In this unequal war, Even the right to self-destruction Had been taken from her.
Cold despair flooded her.
What could she do?
She didn't know.
She only knew—
This gilded cage
Was stronger
And more suffocating
Than she had ever imagined.