Li Guo had been standing in front of the presidential suite door for nearly half an hour, her eyes fixed on the intricately carved wooden door, yet she couldn't bring herself to knock.
Her mother Chen Lingyao's voice echoed in her ears like a broken record: "Guoguo, your father is sick, and you know how tight things are at home. President Leng is the most generous tipper—just deliver the wine, and you'll get a hefty tip. Trust me, sweetheart, don't be afraid!"
Though she kept psyching herself up, an inexplicable dread coiled in her chest as she stared at the door. It was as if a bloodthirsty beast lurked behind it—or worse, a fate she couldn’t bear to face.
The night was deep, and a chilly breeze drifted through the nearby window, making Li Guo’s slender, delicate frame shiver involuntarily.
At just eighteen, Li Guo was only a freshman in college. Her father’s prolonged illness had drained the family’s finances, leaving them in dire straits. Her mother, Chen Lingyao, had once been a music teacher at an elementary school, a skilled pianist. But now, forced by circumstances, she worked nights as a pianist at the city’s most luxurious hotel, "Mirage."
Understanding the hardship her mother endured, Li Guo had taken up part-time work at the hotel during her break—waiting tables, occasionally helping at the cashier.
But Chen Lingyao, having witnessed too much of the hotel’s decadence—the drunken revelry, the reckless extravagance—had grown deeply envious of the wealthy patrons. That envy had warped into something darker, leading her to push her daughter into this very predicament.
Li Guo wasn’t the type to turn heads with her figure. She lacked the curves that might draw attention—no ample bosom or rounded hips. Her waist was narrow, her frame almost too delicate. But her fair skin, delicate features, and those long, slender legs still made her stand out.
Tonight, she wore a fitted black lace dress, its sheer patterns teasing glimpses of pale skin beneath. The slit ran high up her thigh, and with every gust of wind, the hem fluttered, revealing flashes of milky-white legs—an invitation wrapped in temptation.
Under the dim, sultry lighting, Li Guo’s nervous face flushed faintly pink. Her hands trembled slightly as she clutched the serving tray. Gritting her teeth, she finally raised her hand and knocked lightly on the ornate wooden door.
Inside, Leng Weichen stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, his gaze distant and unreadable. A cold, predatory aura radiated from him.
At the earlier banquet, many of the company’s senior executives had showered him with flattery—praising his ambition, decisiveness, and sharp intellect. Yet every single one of them had addressed him with the same rigid formality: *Vice President Leng.*
No one dared to drop the title, no matter how awkward it sounded. Because above Leng Weichen stood *President* Leng—his half-brother, Leng Weixuan.
Unlike Leng Weichen, Leng Weixuan embodied the worst of a spoiled rich heir—indulging in every vice, yet cunning and ruthless in pursuit of his goals. As the eldest grandson of the Leng family, he basked in their grandmother’s favor, and even their father seemed to hold him in higher regard.
For years, Leng Weixuan's greatest pleasure had been making Leng Weichen's life miserable. Whether it was playing the victim in front of their grandmother with crocodile tears, or constantly provoking him during board meetings, he treated Leng Weichen like a thorn in his side, always finding ways to undermine him.
Even within the company, anyone who dared address Leng Weichen without the prefix "Vice" would immediately face deductions from their bonus. Over time, everyone obediently referred to him as "Vice President," a title that served as Leng Weixuan's constant reminder that, no matter how capable he was, Leng Weichen would always be the second son—forever overshadowed.
There was no way to protest this petty humiliation. Leng Weichen could only grit his teeth and endure the title, responding with a polite smile and forced courtesy. Perhaps this was why, whenever alone, his expression would darken, his brow permanently etched with an unshakable gloom.
A courteous knock at the door snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned, deliberately positioning himself in the shadows by the window before responding, "Who is it?"
His voice was smooth and pleasant, but Li Guo was too nervous to notice. Trembling, she answered, "Good evening, sir. I’m here with the red wine you ordered."
"Come in."
Li Guo took a deep breath, flexing her stiff feet before pushing the door open.
The moment she entered, Leng Weichen's indifferent gaze sharpened. The way she moved—the slight sway of her slender waist, the delicate grace of her steps—was eerily reminiscent of someone. Too much like someone.
Carefully, Li Guo set the tray down and transferred the expensive crystal glass with meticulous precision, completely unaware of the intense scrutiny from the man behind her.
Once everything was in place, she straightened up, exhaling softly. Forget the "outrageous tip" her mother had joked about—she just wanted to leave as quickly as possible, to escape the suffocating presence of this imposing stranger.
With a slight bow toward the shadows, she turned to go.
"Stop."
The command was quiet but carried undeniable authority. Li Guo froze mid-step, not daring to move.
Leng Weichen studied her—the cascade of dark hair spilling down her back, the smooth curve of her legs, the porcelain glow of her skin under the light. It was almost irresistible, the urge to reach out and touch.
And so he did.
Slowly, he approached, his right hand lifting to brush against her hair.
The unexpected contact sent a jolt through Li Guo. Instinct took over—she bolted for the door.
Leng Weichen's eyes narrowed dangerously. In one swift motion, he seized her hair and yanked her back.
*Unbelievable.* Even at work, Leng Weixuan made sure no one dared get too close to him for fear of repercussions. And now, even a mere hotel waitress recoiled from his touch?
The thought fueled his fury. Without hesitation, he flung her onto the bed and followed, pinning her down.