What?! I Became the Zombie Beauty in the Villain’s Arms

Chapter 256: I’ll Try My Best

San She paused—a rare hesitation for the emotionless operative—and replied stiffly, “…I’ll try my best.”

“What?” Pei Xiqing grew increasingly confused as she listened. “Brother Qiu Chao, what are you talking about? Nieces and nephews?”

“I was just joking! Hahaha. You have to mess with guys like him to keep them from acting like the walking dead all the time.” Qiu Chao laughed, then smoothly changed the subject. “Guess how many crystal cores it took for me to bring you back?”

“How many?”

“A full one hundred and seventy-two!” Qiu Chao exclaimed through the comms. “You don’t have any major issues now, but you might still need to absorb crystal cores to maintain your condition. Furthermore, the fusion rate of those cores in your body reached a staggering seventy percent. It’s a biological miracle even I didn’t see coming. Tsk, tsk, tsk…”

“Seventy percent?”

That meant her body was now highly receptive to absorbing the raw power of the cores.

Pei Xiqing stared at her palms in disbelief.

An unprecedented, terrifying power now coursed through the Qiong Snake entity anchored within her.

She asked, “What about the issue you were worried about before…?”

“Are you talking about the mysterious Substance X in your body?”

“Yes.”

“It’s still there, though its effects aren’t nearly as pronounced as before. However, there’s a slight complication… Never mind. I’ll explain it in detail when you arrive. If you really want to know, why not just ask Brother Duan yourself when you see him?”

With that, he fell silent, completely immersed in marveling at his perfect research results. He had stopped halfway through his explanation, leaving her with the distinct impression that her recovery came with hidden conditions she was yet to uncover.

Pei Xiqing straightened the oversized military greatcoat she wore, buttoning it up one by one. The coat actually belonged to Duan Xiaolin.

She had never seen him wear a military uniform before. After all, he wasn’t under the jurisdiction of any official army, nor did he answer to any faction’s command. To him, military uniforms and ranks were probably nothing more than superficial decorations.

Pei Xiqing smoothed her hair and followed San She into the vehicle. Shadow climbed into the back seat beside her.

Ma Mengxiang chased out of the house after them, waving frantically. “Hey! Wait a minute! Miss Pei, you’re only wearing slippers, and the temperature has dropped drastically!”

Pei Xiqing rolled down the window. “It’s okay, the heater is on in the car. You should go back inside. It’s getting late, so get some sleep. We’ll be back soon.”

Wrapped tightly in the heavy military coat, which covered her from head to toe, she genuinely didn’t feel the biting cold of the night.

Ma Mengxiang tossed a bundle of fabric toward the car. “Shadow! Catch!”

Shadow reached out the window and caught it effortlessly with one hand. When he unrolled it, he found a thick scarf and a winter hat.

Ma Mengxiang gestured at her own neck and head. “Bundle up!”

Pei Xiqing nodded with a warm smile.

As the car drove away from the house, Pei Xiqing cast a suspicious glance at Shadow sitting beside her.

Shadow shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. “…What are you looking at?”

“Nothing.” She smiled, her eyes curving into amused crescents.

Shadow fidgeted in his seat. “Don’t look at me like that. It makes me feel like… I did something wrong.”

Pei Xiqing reached over and patted his shoulder. “What’s wrong with helping the villagers repair their roofs?”

“The roofs were leaking. It only took a little patching up. It wasn’t a big deal,” he muttered defensively.

Pei Xiqing nodded rapidly, holding back a laugh.

Shadow let out an awkward cough and quickly turned his gaze out the window to avoid her teasing.

She put on the hat and wrapped the scarf tightly around her neck. The wind whistling through the cracked window was indeed biting. She stared out at the passing scenery. As the car left the village behind, her mind was still a chaotic swirl of thoughts.

Qiu Chao had explained parts of her recovery, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that things weren’t as simple as he made them sound. At the very least, she needed to see Duan Xiaolin and hear the truth from his own mouth before she would completely believe it.

The car sped down the desolate road. The journey felt surprisingly long. Just as she was about to close her eyes for a nap, a massive black structure flashed in her peripheral vision, jolting her fully awake.

Pei Xiqing immediately rolled the window all the way down to get a better look.

Just a short distance outside the village, a sprawling water dungeon had been erected!

Her eyes went wide. She studied the architecture carefully in the moonlight. It was identical in design to the water dungeon they had seen back at Base Three, but this one was far more massive and exuded a terrifying, oppressive aura.

A thick aura of death seemed to shroud the facility. Listening closely over the hum of the engine, she could faintly hear agonizing screams echoing up from its subterranean depths. Just driving past the perimeter gave her full-body goosebumps.

San She caught her looking in the rearview mirror and asked flatly, “Do you recognize it?”

Shadow’s expression instantly turned rigid beside her, but he remained silent.

Pei Xiqing turned to San She. “Is that a water dungeon?”

“Yes,” San She replied. “So, you are familiar with it.”

“Why is there a water dungeon stationed right outside the village?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly. Wasn’t this supposed to be an isolated haven, entirely cut off from the cruelty of the outside world?

San She clearly realized what was going on in her mind but chose not to elaborate.

Shadow cleared his throat awkwardly. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence.”

Pei Xiqing felt a sudden, sharp ache in her chest. Or rather, the crystal cores reacting within her body seemed to throb in response to her rising anxiety.

She glanced out the back window at the receding facility, then looked at Shadow again. There was a fleeting hint of sorrow in his eyes. Seeing that, she swallowed her remaining questions and stayed quiet.

The vehicle maintained a steady, relentless pace. The journey wasn’t actually as long as she had anticipated. Following a direct, hidden route through the Ghost Market, they arrived back at Central Headquarters two hours later.

Just as she reached for the door handle to get out, San She stopped her.

He tilted his head, his ruthless, emotionless dark eyes meeting hers in the rearview mirror. “Put on a mask,” he instructed, handing a black surgical mask back over the center console.

Pei Xiqing looped the straps over her ears and pushed the car door open.

The exterior of the headquarters looked exactly the same as before—mechanical, meticulous, and imposing. It felt like a breathing, cybernetic fortress with its towering structures and glaring floodlights. The personnel moving about the compound appeared numb, carrying out their assigned tasks in a rigid, methodical manner.

The catastrophic parasite siege and the violent riots from a few days ago seemed like nothing more than a faded nightmare to them now.

Pei Xiqing bypassed the main thoroughfare and headed straight toward the low-slung detention blocks in the rear sector.

The moment she neared the barbed-wire perimeter, a thick, foul stench of blood assaulted her senses. Shadow stepped forward, unlocking the heavy iron door, and they walked inside together.

The entryway floor was relatively clean, but the deeper they ventured into the corridor, the more gruesome the scene became. Shocking swathes of fresh blood streaked across the concrete tiles.

In a span of just ten steps, she counted no less than a dozen dark, congealing pools that practically dyed the floor red. The metallic tang in the air was suffocating; it was no wonder San She had insisted she wear the mask.

Pinching the bridge of her mask tightly, Pei Xiqing marched straight toward the subterranean dungeon entrance.

Shadow walked briskly beside her, trying to intervene. “The water dungeon is an execution ground. The atmosphere is extremely volatile and bloody. If you go down there right now, the stench might trigger another violent physical reaction and make you throw up.”

“Qiu Chao said my vitals are stable. I’m just going down there to find Brother Duan. I promise I won’t look at anything I shouldn’t.”

“But…”

“It’s fine, Shadow. My body has recovered. Even if the smell triggers my nausea, it’s not a big deal,” Pei Xiqing insisted. “I need to see what this water dungeon actually looks like from the inside. I need to understand why one was built right on the doorstep of our village.”

She had never personally ventured into one of Franlun’s infamous dungeons before. She had only caught brief glimpses of them through video feeds and secondary intelligence. But she had never physically set foot inside the abyss.

The closer she got to the descending stairwell, the heavier her breathing became. The constriction of the mask made her mounting anxiety even more pronounced. Her pulse raced, her chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow bursts.

Shadow had already relayed her arrival to Brother Duan via his encrypted earpiece. Upon hearing the report, Duan Xiaolin’s voice came through calmly. “Bring her down. I’ll be waiting for her inside.”

“Okay,” Pei Xiqing murmured.

Shadow gestured to a guard, instructing him to unlock the heavy blast doors leading down into the dark.

Pei Xiqing’s expression remained impressively calm. In stark contrast, Shadow looked visibly flustered—a remarkably rare break in his usual stoic demeanor.

She couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh. “My psychological endurance is perfectly fine, Shadow. Stop underestimating me. How are you more stressed about this than I am?”

Shadow hesitated, wringing his gloved hands. “Why don’t we get you a blindfold? Actually, no, wait—maybe a full-body hazmat suit would be better…”

But when he looked up, Pei Xiqing had already stepped past the threshold and begun her descent into the shadows.

“Wait for me!” he called out, hastily chasing after her down the stairs.

Chapter 257: Don’t Look at Me Like That

Even through her heavy protective mask, the pungent odor saturating the air was suffocating.

The coppery stench of blood and a bone-deep, chilling cold were inescapable, instantly enveloping anyone who dared step foot inside. The lighting was dismal; the only illumination came from a dim, dark yellow chandelier hanging to the right of the stairwell. It was old and weathered, coated in thick layers of dried blood—a grim reflection of the countless criminals who had desperately tried to claw their way back to freedom.

A frigid wind howled down from a pitch-black ventilation shaft overhead, making the dim light flicker. The stone walls enclosing them were solid and suffocatingly tight. If one were to shine a flashlight across the surface, they would see frantic, bloody handprints overlapping and crawling all over the stone.

The further she walked, the more pronounced the eerie dread became.

This water dungeon was a living nightmare, a collection of horrific, blood-soaked scenes where criminals were subjected to unimaginable torture. Those dragged down here were the worst of the worst—vicious sinners who entirely deserved their grim fates. Their suffering was merely the price they had to pay for their victims.

However, as Pei Xiqing descended closer to the true depths of the subterranean dungeon, she quickly realized that her previous understanding of this place—and of the sheer depths of human cruelty—had been far too shallow.

The narrow corridor was lined with endless rows of cells. Being chained in freezing water was considered the lightest punishment here; flaying, bone-scraping, impalement, and heart-extraction were standard procedures.

Both sides of the corridor walls were lined with an array of interrogation tools. Most were heavily stained with dark, oxidized blood and rust, while some showed signs of recent repair. These instruments of torture had clearly been mended by hand, over and over again. In this place, newer tools weren’t necessarily better. On the contrary, the older and more worn an instrument was, the more effectively it achieved its desired, agonizing effect.

Her gaze unconsciously swept over the nearest cell, landing on a man whose entire body had been pinned to a heavy iron slab with nails longer than a human finger. Only half of one bloodshot eye was visible. Noticing her gaze, the man actually grinned at her with twisted interest.

The movement caused the heavy nails to tear further through his rotting flesh, making his smile look utterly grotesque. A fresh wave of rancid blood assaulted her senses, spreading wildly through the damp air.

In that terrifying instant, she felt a hallucination wash over her—as if every single mutilated prisoner in the dungeon was turning to smile at her.

Shrill, bone-chilling laughter echoed down the hall. She hesitated for a fraction of a second, only to be violently startled by an unidentified creature crawling across the path ahead, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

It possessed the grotesque, mutated anatomy of a parasite, yet it bore a human face—one that had been violently cleaved in two. One half dragged wetly against the stone floor, while the other half hung suspended in the air. Peering into the bottomless shadows of its cell, the destroyed lower half of the creature’s body was too gruesome to even look at.

Her breath shuddered in her throat. Her jaw clenched so tightly her teeth ached. The suffocating terror of this place briefly paralyzed her legs, making it difficult to take another step.

And yet, these horrors were merely the appetizers of the water dungeon.

If she went any deeper, she would bear witness to the most horrific, nightmarish punishments in the world, and see criminals broken in every conceivable way.

Shadow finally caught up to her side, his voice low and steady. “Some criminals will stop at nothing to escape execution. When they are cornered, they consume volatile mutation drugs, devolving into parasites and inhuman abominations after they are dragged in here. But Franlun never lets them get away with it. No matter what kind of monster they mutate into, our interrogators have ways to make them wish they were dead.”

Pei Xiqing stopped in her tracks, her eyes slowly scanning the corridor.

The scent of blood usually incited fear, but in this wretched place, it only aroused a frenzied excitement and intense agitation among the human prisoners and the mutated “monsters” alike. The cells reeked of gore, yet not a single drop of fresh, normal human blood could be seen on the floor. If a single drop of warm blood were to splash into this environment, the very air in the dungeon would likely boil over in a feeding frenzy.

She forced herself to look away.

“Shall we continue?” Shadow asked quietly.

“Down.”

“Understood.”

Ten minutes later, they descended to the absolute deepest level of the facility.

A severely deformed human was chained to a massive iron cross. Several masked Franlun operatives were silently conducting a brutal interrogation. Sitting quietly in the shadows was a solitary figure. His entire silhouette seemed to seamlessly blend into the suffocating darkness and bloodshed of the dungeon, perfectly immersed in the terrifying, hellish atmosphere of the room.

Looking at him now, it was almost impossible for her to imagine where the gentle, devoted side of the man who usually stood before her even came from.

Duan Xiaolin slowly stood up and stepped out of the shadows.

He extended a hand toward her. “You’ve arrived.”

Before Pei Xiqing could even lift her arm to meet his, he reached out and firmly grasped her wrist. The man gave a subtle wave of his free hand.

Shadow immediately bowed and withdrew back up the stairs.

Pei Xiqing followed the man forward into the gloom.

Every step she took felt impossibly heavy. His hands were impeccably clean, yet she could smell the overwhelming, sickening stench of fresh blood radiating from his clothes.

She spoke softly, her voice muffled by the mask. “Brother Duan…”

“Mhm.”

“I already understand the general situation on the surface, but you…” She trailed off, her gaze subconsciously drifting toward a corpse hanging upside down nearby. She recognized the ruined face instantly—it was someone she had seen back at the Ghost Market. She froze in shock.

A moment later, his calm, indifferent voice echoed through the dark. “Everyone from the Ghost Market has been relocated here.”

She had no idea how massive this subterranean chamber truly was, but the vast majority of the cavern was swallowed by pitch blackness, impenetrable to the dim lights. Occasionally, she could hear faint, agonizing sounds of heavy breathing echoing from the abyss, one after another—the horrific, struggling gasps of the unknown.

If a floodlight were to suddenly illuminate the cavern, she knew she would see countless dark silhouettes suspended from the ceiling, hanging upside down like a massive colony of bats in a cave.

Except, these were swaying, mutilated corpses.

The upside-down figure to her right suddenly sensed their movement and began to violently thrash back and forth. Its severed tongue could only produce wet, gurgling sounds, and its scalp had been completely flayed, making its writhing head look like a massive, fleshy worm on a branch. The sight was stomach-churning.

“Ugh… ah… uh…”

The man tightened his grip on her hand. As they brushed past the thrashing figure, Duan Xiaolin casually raised his free hand and plunged it straight into the prisoner’s chest. With a sickening crunch, he violently ripped out a pale yellow crystal core.

He didn’t even examine it closely; he merely gave it a passing glance before tossing it onto a nearby metal tray. The tray resembled a stainless-steel platter from a slaughterhouse, heavily stained with gore, and upon it sat dozens of brilliant crystal cores that had clearly been freshly excavated from living bodies.

The man turned back to her, a faint, chilling smile playing in his dark eyes. “What exactly do you wish to know? Ask, and I will tell you everything.”

It was still the same strikingly handsome, captivating face she loved. The eyes behind his silver-rimmed glasses were smiling warmly, yet they sent a visceral shudder down her spine. A terrifying, eerie aura practically overflowed from his every movement.

Pei Xiqing hesitated for only a second.

The man calmly wiped his bloodstained fingertips with a silk handkerchief before reaching out to hook a finger under her chin, tilting her face up to meet his.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispered.

Perhaps because he was so accustomed to staring down condemned prisoners, his gaze carried a heavy, suffocating pressure, even when he had absolutely no intention of interrogating her.

Overwhelmed, Pei Xiqing instinctively lowered her eyes.

The mask was suddenly, firmly ripped away from her face.

He forced her to look up at him again, his voice dropping into a dark, possessive murmur. “Do not hide from me.”

Chapter 258: If You Want to Get Pregnant, We Can

It would be a lie to say she wasn’t afraid. A place like this—where slaughtering people and extracting crystal cores was as routine as drinking water—instilled a deep, primal terror in anyone.

But Pei Xiqing slowly forced herself to calm down. She reached out, taking his cold, lifeless hand in hers. “I will try to accept everything about you,” she said softly. “Just give me some time.”

She had already mentally prepared herself for this. No matter what horrors she witnessed in the shadows of his life, as long as she had a little time, she knew she could come to terms with it.

Duan Xiaolin used a silk handkerchief to gently wipe away a faint trace of blood that had splattered onto her chin.

As he pulled away, Pei Xiqing noticed that his hand was wet. It wasn’t blood from the prisoner they had just passed; it was fresh blood flowing from his own palm.

She grabbed his wrist tightly. “Why are you bleeding?”

Looking closer, she realized he was in terrible condition. His face was deathly pale, and his body was littered with open wounds that refused to heal, still seeping sluggishly through his clothes.

“What happened to your ability?” she demanded. Wasn’t his superpower supposed to heal all of his injuries automatically?

He didn’t answer. Instead, he took the handkerchief back and casually wiped the blood from his hand.

But the bleeding wouldn’t stop. Heavy red drops continued to fall from his fingertips.

In a panic, Pei Xiqing hurriedly pressed the cloth against the wound. As she moved, fresh blood accidentally smeared against her pale cheek.

Duan Xiaolin stopped her frantic movements, his focus shifting entirely to wiping her face clean. He rubbed the stain away with extreme gentleness. Then, unable to resist the pull, he lowered his head. He kissed away the faint trace of his own blood on her skin before capturing her lips, biting down without an ounce of restraint.

He wrapped a strong arm around her waist, forcefully pulling her flush against his chest. He trapped her completely in his embrace, subjecting her to a kiss that was neither romantic nor sweet—it was desperate, punishing, and entirely consuming.

He was incredibly strong. His grip was so tight it felt like he might crush her. She felt a profound sense of loss mixed with the overwhelming relief of regaining something precious. Even though she still didn’t understand the full scope of what he had sacrificed, she passively surrendered to the suffocating, heavy kiss.

By the time he finally pulled away, her body had gone completely limp, collapsing heavily into his arms.

Regaining her breath, Pei Xiqing stubbornly grabbed his hand again, using what little strength she had to inspect his wound. “What exactly happened to you?”

The Franlun operatives who had been conducting the interrogation had already silently cleared out. The heavy iron gate ahead of them stood open, revealing a sparse room furnished only with a simple table and chair. Stacks of files he usually reviewed were scattered across the desk.

He led her to the chair and gently pushed her down to sit, then poured her a glass of water.

Pei Xiqing ignored the cup. “Brother Duan. Answer me.”

He leaned casually against the edge of the table. “It’s nothing. Just a few minor injuries. They’ll heal in a while.”

“Is this why you didn’t stay in the village for very long?”

Under the harsh glare of the desk lamp, she could finally see his current state clearly. A fine crack fractured the lens of his glasses, and a fresh, shallow scar marked the corner of his eye. She immediately stood up and unbuttoned his collar. Sure enough, there were more lacerations hidden beneath his shirt. When she pushed up his sleeves, his arms were littered with scattered wounds.

They were healing agonizingly slowly—if at all—and clearly required medical intervention.

Her face drained of color. “Why didn’t you treat these? Why didn’t you come see me? You just left me in the village to worry about you! If I hadn’t come looking, how long were you planning to hide from me? Until your wounds miraculously closed? Or until this entire war was over? Duan Xiaolin! You complete bastard!”

Pei Xiqing was so furious her chest heaved with ragged breaths. By the time she finished shouting, she was practically out of breath, on the verge of hyperventilating.

Duan Xiaolin reached out to support her waist. “Slow down,” he murmured. “Catch your breath before you keep scolding me.”

Pei Xiqing ignored him. She spun around and started frantically rummaging through the drawers and cabinets, searching for a medical kit. Unsurprisingly, there was no such thing in a dungeon interrogation room. She turned back to glare at him.

“Do you want me to go find someone to get a first-aid kit, or are you going to order one of your Franlun operatives to bring it down here?”

Duan Xiaolin chuckled softly. “I’ll call for it myself.”

“Stop laughing! You’re not allowed to laugh!” Pei Xiqing pointed an angry finger at his chest. “After your wounds are properly bandaged, you had better confess everything to me honestly. Otherwise, you can forget about ever seeing me or your child again.”

The man paused. Both of them froze on the spot.

His eyelids gave a slow twitch as his gaze locked onto hers. “Baby, you can’t just casually throw words like that around. That’s not something to joke about.”

Pei Xiqing met his stare without flinching. “I’m pregnant, aren’t I?”

They stared at each other in tense silence for a long moment. Finally, he offered a helpless smile. “Who told you that?”

“I figured it out myself. Am I right?”

When he didn’t answer immediately, Pei Xiqing leaned in closer. “Hmm? You don’t even dare to look me in the eye?”

Duan Xiaolin reached out and gently ruffled her hair. “I didn’t want you to get pregnant this early. Until your physical condition and abilities are completely stable, I absolutely refuse to let anything happen that could harm your body.”

“So what does that mean?”

“It means you are not pregnant.”

“How is that possible?” Pei Xiqing asked, genuinely shocked.

She had been incredibly nauseous lately, vomiting far more frequently than ever before. Coupled with the strange, cautious way Qiu Chao had been looking at her and the cryptic things he had said… it all perfectly aligned with early pregnancy symptoms.

“To be precise, you were experiencing a false pregnancy a little while ago.” Reaching into a drawer, he pulled out a compact surgical kit filled with various scalpels and medical tools. Without batting an eye, he threaded a tiny needle and calmly began stitching up the deep laceration across his palm as he continued speaking. “It was a medical method to transfer the virus out of your body.”

“What?”

“We injected parasitic eggs into your system.”

Blood was still welling up from his palm as he worked. Pei Xiqing instinctively pressed a sterile pad against his hand, looking up at him in horror. “What are you talking about? That sounds absolutely disgusting…”

He smiled, allowing her to hold his injured hand. His eyes softened with deep tenderness. “The ‘eggs’ were carefully selected and engineered by Qiu Chao and me. They are absolutely pure and uncontaminated. They didn’t come from a parasite; they were extracted from a specific plant.”

“Why are you talking nonsense?” she frowned.

“Technically, they should be classified as plant cells, but they are a highly specific mutated byproduct.”

“And then what?”

“Once that substance enters your bloodstream,” he explained smoothly, “it triggers physiological signs identical to pregnancy. The severe vomiting, the extreme lethargy—all of those symptoms were your body reacting to the cells.”

“And then those cells absorbed the zombie virus in my body?” she guessed.

“That’s one way to put it.”

Pei Xiqing let out a massive sigh of relief. “You scared me! I really thought I was pregnant, and that you…”

“I will not let you get pregnant. At least, not right now,” he stated firmly. “Given your viral load, if you had conceived, the child’s death would be an absolute certainty. I will not allow a child to be born just to suffer.”

If a pregnancy carried a 100% mortality rate, he would have ruthlessly terminated his own child with his own hands to protect her. But the psychological cost would have been far too high.

Pei Xiqing was too soft-hearted and innocent when it came to things like this. She had never been pregnant, and her physical baseline was terrifyingly unstable. If she had actually conceived, her maternal instincts would have inevitably altered her mindset, plunging her into agonizing guilt and self-blame when the child inevitably couldn’t be saved.

He absolutely refused to let her endure that kind of psychological torture. He would rather they never had a child at all.

Pei Xiqing wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, resting her cheek against his chest. As she did, the metallic tang of fresh blood hit her nose again. She immediately yanked open the front of his shirt.

Pinned back against the edge of the table, Duan Xiaolin let out a low laugh. “So eager? We have plenty of time to get you pregnant later.”

Pei Xiqing glared up at him. “Why are your wounds still bleeding? Why isn’t your ability healing them?”

He lowered his eyes, masking his expression perfectly. “It’s nothing serious.”

“This isn’t a big deal?” she snapped. “Then what is? If it’s my problem, you’ll slaughter your way through the wasteland to harvest crystal cores and bathe your hands in blood without a second thought. But when it’s your own body, it’s just ‘insignificant’?”

She grabbed him by the lapels of his ruined shirt, her dark eyes flashing. “If you don’t tell me the truth right now, I swear I will never accept another crystal core from you ever again.”

Duan Xiaolin stared at her in silence for a long time.

Finally, the corners of his lips curved upward. He chuckled softly and leaned in close, his voice dropping to a teasing murmur. “You really love to take things so seriously, don’t you, baby?”

Like this novel? Read Advance Chapters (PDF & EPUB Format)