"?"
Elena turned back.
She glanced behind her.
Before her eyes could even settle on the man hidden in the dim lighting, a strong hand at her waist tightened, and in the blink of an eye, she was pulled down onto his lap.
Her breath caught, and a gasp barely escaped her lips, swallowed back with a tremble, "... Ethan?"
She landed half-kneeling on top of him, her body pressed intimately against his.
The posture was too close, too provocative—especially in a place like this. Her instincts screamed for her to pull away.
But the moment she moved, his hand clamped down on her waist, holding her in place.
Ethan's voice was calm, even gentle, but it carried an undeniable authority that left no room for defiance.
"We've got no other plans tonight. There's no rush to leave."
Elena's lashes fluttered with tension.
The underground garage of the Imperial Hills residence was vast, illuminated by countless lamps that normally kept it bright around the clock.
Except for one corner.
At the far end, left of the garage, a space of more than a hundred square meters was fitted with sound-activated lights—only springing to life when they detected noise.
It was a part of the garage Elena almost never ventured into.
For one, it was far from the entrance.
For another, the voice-controlled lights were nowhere near as convenient as the ever-lit ones up front.
Yet today, for reasons unknown, Eric Chen—Ethan's ever-efficient assistant—had chosen to park the car in that far, secluded corner, right in the sensor-light zone.
Once the door closed, the limousine's superior insulation rendered all sound mute. The lights outside, failing to catch a trace of movement, faded into darkness.
The entire cabin was cast in shadow.
Elena had no idea what Ethan intended by keeping her there, but the sudden descent into near pitch-black filled her with a vague unease.
She clutched her fingertips together tightly, her breath growing soft and shallow, a subconscious reaction to her anxiety.
Her gaze drifted from the window back inside the car. Slowly, carefully, she tried to raise her body, attempting to put some distance between them.
But she had barely moved an inch when he pressed her down again.
She dared not struggle further and whispered cautiously, "What are we doing here...?"
It was almost completely dark.
Had it not been for the inconsiderate placement, maybe they'd have caught some ambient light from the rest of the garage. But Eric had driven too deep in, and what's worse, he'd forgotten to lower the blackout panels or turn on the interior lights.
The car sat half in light, half in shadow—but due to its position and the thick sunshades, not a sliver of light now entered the backseat.
Muttering curses at Eric for being unusually careless today, Elena reached out, fumbling for the button that controlled the shades—if not that, then at least the reading light.
She needed some light—any light—to calm the tight coil in her chest.
But just as her hand reached forward, he caught her wrist and pulled it back.
"What are you reaching for?"
"I was trying to turn on a light," she whispered, breathtaking. "It's too dark in here."
"Also… shouldn't we go upstairs? It's not—"
He still didn't release her hand. Her plan to brighten the car or escape was crushed in a heartbeat.
In the near-darkness, Ethan stared at the woman struggling faintly in his arms. Before she could finish her sentence, his palm cupped her waist once more and drew her closer—firm and inevitable.
Then his hand rose to the back of her head, and he pressed his lips to hers.
At the moment of contact, Elena froze—her breath halted, the muscles in her waist tensing under his palm.
His eyes darkened.
He moved his hand slowly along her waistline, seeking out the sensitive points he had already mapped out during their previous nights together. With deliberate, devastating precision, his fingers traced her trembling skin until she melted against him.
"Mm…" Her breathing faltered, and a fine sheen of sweat coated her palms from clenching so tightly.
She tried to twist away from his kiss, her voice trembling with restrained panic.
"Don't… don't touch me like that…"
But Ethan only deepened the kiss. She had nowhere to run, trapped in the cage of his arms. Desperate, she buried her face against the side of his neck, whispering between quickened breaths, "It's too dark here… I want to go upstairs…"
His fingers gently cupped the nape of her neck, his tone coaxing yet firm. "Upstairs or here—it's just the two of us either way,There's no one else. No need to be nervous."
But she couldn't calm down.
The Pullman's backseat was infamously spacious, perfect for comfort—too perfect. Elena had once loved the generous space it offered.
Now, as his hand slipped beneath her blouse, exploring, she cursed its design for the very first time.
While the garage remained cloaked in silence and shadow, up above in the dazzlingly bright living room of Imperial Hills, Adrian Jiang was seated on the couch, waiting for Ethan.
The call he had just placed rang unanswered and was automatically disconnected. Adrian's brows furrowed slightly.
Butler Pang arrived, tea tray in hand.
Noticing Adrian on the phone, he smiled gently and said, "Master Ethan is likely still busy. Perhaps you'd like to wait a little longer, Second Young Master?"
Adrian ended the call and glanced toward the spiral staircase.
His gaze skimmed across the empty villa as he asked, "Elena hasn't returned either?"
Butler Pang's smile remained unchanged. "Madam hasn't come back yet either, but it's about time."
Adrian nodded, glanced once more at the time on his phone, then rose to his feet.
Seeing him about to leave, the butler asked hurriedly, "You're not going to wait for Master Ethan?"
Adrian didn't stop walking. "No. I'll go to Tiansheng Group tomorrow and speak to my brother there."
His car was parked near the entrance of the garage.
Holding a file, he made his way toward it. But just as he was about to get in, a flicker of movement caught his eye—there, deep within the shadowy corner of the garage, he spotted the unmistakable silhouette of Ethan Pullman.
His hand paused on the car door.
After a moment's hesitation, he turned and walked toward it.
Inside the sealed cabin, the air had turned stifling.
So hot Elena felt like she couldn't breathe. She reached for the window controls.
Ethan hadn't moved. His breathing was steady, his shirt and tailored trousers still neat and unruffled.
But her lips were swollen and burning, her clothes in disarray.
At some point—she didn't even know when—her light cardigan had been removed, crumpled into a mess and buried beneath Ethan's black suit jacket. Only a sliver of fabric peeked out in the dimness.
Her legs, though cradled by him, had gone weak from holding the position too long. As he leaned in to kiss her again, she tried to dodge him, turning her head—
Tap.
A sudden knock on the window made her jolt.
Her whole body froze in place.
The sound snapped on the voice-activated lights outside, flooding the backseat with harsh, glaring brightness.
Stark white light sliced through the tinted glass, illuminating every inch of the once-hidden space.
Elena looked down in horror at her disheveled state. Her eyes, already damp and dazed from the kisses, were now filled with raw panic.
Before Ethan could lower the window, some primal survival instinct surged through her. She tore free from his arms and grabbed his suit jacket, pulling it—and herself—over her head in one frantic motion.
Curling up tightly beneath the very window that had been knocked on, she tried to disappear from view entirely.
Heart racing, hands shaking.
In that chaotic moment, she didn't even notice Ethan watching her calmly the entire time—his dark, deep eyes narrowing in unreadable silence.