Run From Love, Caught by Him

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My sister, Charlotte, craved living in the moment and had no interest in marriage.

And I was greedy for money, so I took Charlotte's place and married Xavier, who was supposedly ugly and fierce.

Rumors spread that he despised me, only because his heart still belonged to his unattainable first love.

Finally, after saving enough money, I decided to fake my death and escape.

I sent a message to Charlotte, who ran a high-end club in the southern city:

"I'm coming to join you---remember to cover for me!"

One day, however, my CEO husband shaved his beard and showed up at my door.

His appearance was even more handsome than the city's acknowledged heartthrob.

I panicked and tried to flee, but due to our size difference, he caught me in his arms with reddened eyes.

It was over.

This time, I truly couldn't escape...

My husband Xavier was famous in this city as an iron-faced CEO.

He stood six foot two, just past twenty-five, his chin always covered in thick stubble.

When he looked at people, his gaze was sharp and piercing.

Anyone who caught his eye felt a survivor's fear.

When people saw me following behind him, they couldn't help but whisper.

"A man like that actually managed to get a wife?"

"He looks completely unromantic. Life with him must be boring as hell, like being a living widow! Poor Mrs. Xavier..."

I broke out in a cold sweat.

My husband truly didn't understand romance.

But in bed, he was fierce and relentless, with no restraint.

Every night he'd make me cry and beg for mercy before he'd reluctantly stop.

"Xavier, no more..."

I'd think of sad things to make myself cry, tears streaming down my face, and Xavier couldn't stand it.

He'd stop with a dark expression on his face.

He didn't know how to comfort people.

He'd grasp my trembling, snow-white ankle, gently set it down, lean over to kiss my forehead, his voice hoarse:

"Stop crying."

I was somewhat surprised, because he rarely kissed me.

Usually he just closed his eyes and went straight to work.

But the next moment, his stubble scraped against my eyelids.

The pain made tears stream down my face again.

Therefore, I often had red-rimmed eyes, looking frail and delicate.

The company was full of rumors that Xavier was abusive.

So what if he was powerful in business? Only the most incompetent men beat their wives at home.

Feeling guilty, I sniffled and got some anti-swelling ointment from the private doctor, then hurriedly fled.

This marriage wasn't originally my destiny.

The person engaged to Xavier was my sister, Charlotte.

My name is Natalie, and Charlotte is my half-sister, but we have an excellent relationship.

Charlotte had always loved living in the moment, especially fond of handsome, refined men.

She'd bet on nine young entrepreneurs who came to this city to start businesses, telling each one reluctantly:

"I'll wait for you to return successful and marry me. If it's not you, I'll never marry."

Unfortunately, Charlotte lost every bet and even invested quite a bit of money.

She was so angry she came to my room, broke my things, and cried her heart out.

I also cried tears of heartache, angry but not daring to speak.

"Natalie, what should I do? I really don't want to marry that Xavier!"

"His fierce looks are one thing, but he's dark and fierce, famous for his bad temper."

I knew Charlotte's ambition was to open a high-end club, gather all the handsome young men in the world, and live it up every night with fine wine and music.

When Charlotte had a sudden inspiration and begged me with her bright, dewy eyes to marry him in her place, I hesitated.

"How can I do something so dishonest? If Dad finds out, I'm afraid..."

She saw through my hesitation and waved her hand grandly, saying she'd give me a hundred thousand dollars after it was done, plus a share of the dividends when she opened her high-end club in the future.

"Alright then, I'll make an exception for you this once."

I finally agreed.

It was nothing more than being a careful, heartbroken lapdog---I was familiar with that role.

So we hit it off immediately.

She staged a crying bride's suicide by drowning, but actually secretly ran away, taking the money to the southern city to live carefree.

The family had no other daughters of marriageable age, so the burden of the marriage alliance successfully fell on me.

When I first married him, Xavier had no interest in me.

He was cold and emotionless.

On our wedding night, he still wore his suit, sitting upright, frankly telling me he didn't go near women and wouldn't touch me.

The very next day after the wedding, he went on a business trip to negotiate a major project and didn't return for half a year.

But I was anxious.

Without sparks of passion, how could I conveniently be heartless later?

So I was gentle and considerate, deliberately seductive.

Finally, on the day of his triumphant return at the celebration banquet, I secretly made him drink spiked wine and seduced him into sleeping with me.

In his early twenties, after his first taste of such matters, Xavier became addicted.

They say bloodlust and possessiveness go hand in hand---I deeply agreed.

Though I found pleasure in suffering, I couldn't help complaining.

"Mr. Xavier doesn't go near women, so why does he spend every night with me?"

He asked in surprise, "I don't go near women, I only go near my own wife. Married life is natural and proper---what's wrong with that?"

I was speechless, secretly praying in my heart for early liberation.

Everyone said Xavier was so cold and heartless because he harbored a first love he'd cherished for years.

Only after his first love married someone else did he marry me in a fit of spite.

To maintain my infatuated persona, I often clung to Xavier coquettishly.

"Other women all have them, so I should too. You've never given me a token of love."

This day, he surprisingly caught on and brought me back a diamond-studded Cartier bracelet.

I was very happy.

When he wasn't looking, I secretly bit it---sure enough, it was solid.

So valuable.

He stared at me intently.

"What are you thinking about?"

I coughed lightly, inexplicably feeling guilty.

"Thinking about you."

"I'm right in front of you every day. What do you need to think about me for?"

I met his scrutinizing gaze without hesitation, pretending to be wronged.

"You've accomplished great things, and now your career is thriving. More and more women will surround you. What if one day you look down on me, find me dull and boring---what will I do?"

Xavier lowered his eyes, reached out with two fingers to gently pinch the soft flesh of my cheek, and suddenly smiled.

"Having you is enough for me. More than that would be too much to handle."

I froze, discovering for the first time that his smile was actually quite attractive.

Especially those long eyes hidden behind his full beard---like a hawk's, piercing straight into the heart.

Before I could react, my body was already lifted horizontally by him beyond my control, and even before my clothes were fully removed, I was pressed face-down onto the bed.

His fingers were long and beautiful, covering my broken whimpers, his burning chest pressed tightly against my back.

With fingers intertwined, consciousness gradually sank and rose in the sea of desire.

I thought with a flushed face that in the future, without this bittersweet pleasure, I'd inevitably reminisce.

Until this day, he returned from a three-month business trip and came to discuss with me seriously.

"Nat, I need to bring someone to stay at home temporarily. She has nowhere to go."

Only then did I learn that after Mr. Sutton failed in the northern market and died suddenly of a heart attack, his wife was brought back to this city by Xavier.

That person was his first love---Rebecca White, daughter of the Group's HR Director.

Fair-skinned and beautiful, talented and stunning, she once had countless rich young masters at her feet.

Later, she married Xavier's colleague, Mr. Sutton of Weiyuan Company, and became Xavier's lifelong regret.

That Xavier liked her didn't surprise me at all.

After all, he worked under the HR Director in his early years and had occasional contact with Rebecca White.

One glance captured his heart---completely reasonable.

My lips trembled lightly, unable to suppress my excitement.

"You're bringing her here?"

Xavier shook his head.

"Just temporarily. The Sutton family home caught fire earlier and hasn't been repaired yet. Her family won't take in a widow, so she wants to stay here for a few days."

"I'll arrange for her to stay in the guest room next to yours. What do you think, Natalie?"

How considerate of him to discuss it with me so politely---how could I not accommodate his wishes?

I shook my head tactfully.

"I'm afraid of noise. Let Miss White stay in the guest room on the other side instead."

Xavier nodded.

"That works. Won't disturb me and my wife's intimate time."

When Rebecca White came back, everyone in their circle said I was about to fall out of favor, that Xavier would definitely keep a mistress.

Even Rebecca White herself thought so.

The day she returned, wearing a plain white dress, she looked like a beauty in distress---breathtakingly gorgeous.

"I'll be staying with you from now on. I'm afraid I'll be intruding."

I waved my hands repeatedly.

"No intrusion at all. Feel free to reminisce with my husband whenever you have time. No need to worry about me."

Rebecca White smiled disdainfully.

"Of course I'll reminisce with Xavier. No need for an outsider like you to remind me."

In her eyes, I was just a gentle, dull, flattering, vulgar woman who fawned over Xavier.

But she didn't know that inside, my heart was growing more excited the more I calculated.

This day was finally coming.

That evening, I pretended to have my period and wasn't feeling well, hiding in my room early.

Xavier drank heartily with his colleagues until midnight before the party broke up.

Seeing my lights out, he went to sleep in the study alone.

But while I pretended to sleep, I had someone watch the guest room.

Sure enough, Rebecca White was sitting before her mirror doing her makeup, wearing only a sheer nightgown that revealed glimpses of her cleavage.

She asked the housekeeper shyly:

"Do you think if I make a move myself, Xavier will accept me?"

"Who doesn't know Mr. Xavier has been deeply in love with you for years? As long as you use a little trick, that petty wife will be replaced by you!"

I applauded in my heart, silently praying for her.

I quickly packed my already-exchanged bank cards and gold bars, secretly planning what posture to use when catching them tomorrow, how to break down crying.

But that night, everyone in the house was awakened from their dreams by a thunderous voice.

"What the hell---scared me to death!"

After that, there was clearly the sound of something rolling off the bed, followed by a woman's sobbing, hidden in the darkness.

My heart shook.

This Xavier really didn't know how to cherish beauty.

Even with his beloved, he dared to play such bold games?

The next day, carrying my anxiety, I held my breath and opened the study door.

But I saw Xavier sitting upright inside, reading through business proposals, his demeanor completely normal.

I was extremely puzzled and returned to the back courtyard.

Rebecca White's face was bruised and swollen, hiding in the guest room crying, no longer looking refined at all.

During lunch with Xavier, I was preoccupied and probed tentatively:

"Last night, did you hear any sounds?"

He frowned.

"No. I was drunk and only remember dreaming I was throwing punches. I don't remember anything else."

I was at a loss for words and could only pick up a piece of cake and put it in my mouth.

As soon as I bit down, I felt nauseous.

Xavier immediately became displeased and put down his fork.

"Is the food not to your taste? Are these chefs useless? Take it away from my wife and remake it!"

I covered my chest.

Thinking about how I'd been uncomfortable these past few days, probably due to the summer heat, I didn't pay much attention.

A few days later, as Mr. Sutton 's bereaved, Rebecca White came to the Group headquarters building with a lawyer.

Mr. Sutton 's failure in the northern market before his death had caused the company severe losses, but after all, he was a veteran who had worked for the company for many years.

After his sudden heart attack death, his wife Rebecca White had been dissatisfied with the company's handling of the situation.

She made a scene at the building's front desk, demanding to see the chairman, saying she wanted an explanation.

The receptionist couldn't stop her, so ultimately the company's PR department invited her into the conference room.

The chairman came out personally.

Rebecca White tearfully complained:

"Before he died, my husband said that if something happened to him, Mr. Xavier would take care of me. This was his last wish! Your company can't just ignore me!"

She produced a screenshot of emails between Mr. Sutton and Xavier before his death.

The email content was actually ordinary work correspondence, but she twisted it into a promise of care.

To calm the situation and avoid a public relations crisis, the chairman finally made a compromise arrangement: Let Rebecca White enter Xavier's department as an administrative specialist, a nominal position, and temporarily let her live in a guest room owned by the company under the Xavier family name.

Thus, Rebecca White transformed into Xavier's nominal subordinate and moved into the main residence.

I looked forward to Xavier's reaction, but he showed no emotion whatsoever, saying nothing, just expressionlessly accepting the company's arrangement.

That night, which should have been Rebecca White's first night moving in, Xavier came to my room after his business dinner ended.

"Nat, you should be feeling better today, right?"

Without a word, he started to untie my sash, his rough palm expertly sliding inside.

I couldn't help but whimper, pushing him away with a flushed face.

"I---my period isn't over yet! Mr. Xavier has a new colleague starting today---why don't you go romance your new subordinate instead?"

Xavier's expression darkened.

"I have no reason to have subordinates living in my home. That was the chairman's arrangement---I couldn't refuse."

"Is it really the chairman's arrangement, or has Xavier had someone in his heart all along, plotting this for a long time?"

Seeing the atmosphere was set, I suddenly seemed about to cry.

"You don't need to say anything. I know everything. Since you've already transferred your affection elsewhere, why toy with my feelings? Rather than leaving me to guard an empty room, suffering torture."

I took a deep breath.

"Why not just give me divorce papers and fulfill your devotion..."

Seeing my evasive gaze, his face showed suspicion.

"You're my wife. Could it be you're having an affair, wanting to climb a higher branch?"

I hastily denied it.

"Of course not!"

"Then why do you want a divorce?"

Xavier's sharp eyes stared at me intently, as if wanting to see through my heart.

My palms were sweating.

"I---my ambitions aren't domestic. I don't want to be confined by you. Women have their own ideals and aspirations too."

"I see you sleeping, eating, drinking, and playing around all day. I thought you liked it, so I only gave you gold, silver, and jewels. If you have any ideals, I can support you completely. I absolutely won't stand in your way."

Xavier was clearly angry.

Without waiting for me to speak, he pressed me against the wall, fiercely kissing my collarbone, using physical action to punish me.

"I don't want to hear the word 'divorce' from your mouth a second time!"

I was ordered confined by him.

Xavier stormed off angrily.

Before leaving, he instructed the servants to watch me carefully, not allowing me to step outside.

He placed me under house arrest, not knowing it perfectly suited my plans.

I was grief-stricken, biting my pen as I wrote a "Ten Crimes of Xavier," detailing everything, even criticizing him for not shaving his beard.

After finishing my farewell letter, I casually sent Charlotte a message:

"I've fooled Xavier. Departing immediately. Coming to join you---remember to pick me up, and remember my dividends and handsome men."

That night, I set a fire in my room, eliminating all traces.

Afterward, I escaped through a small tunnel I had dug under the back wall.

In a place I couldn't see, a dignified seven-foot man, looking at the ruins burned clean by the fire, cried his heart out---Xavier, who had never shed a tear.

But I was completely unaware of all this, humming a tune as I boarded a plane to the south.

I cheerfully went to find Charlotte.

The moment I saw Charlotte in that southern city, I was stunned.

Charlotte now wore brilliant colors, her smile radiant---she was already the famous owner of a high-end club throughout the city.

Clearly, she was living extremely well.

"Well, well, I didn't expect you to actually escape. In that case, I'll reluctantly take you in."

Charlotte proudly showed me around her establishment.

I was dumbfounded.

The club had three floors.

The first floor was ordinary dining and dancing.

The second floor was more open---you could drink while watching muscular men perform.

The top floor had VIP suites where premium male models entertained guests.

"Natalie, you've come at just the right time. I'll lend you my prized possession, but you must promise to help me with something."

Charlotte enthusiastically introduced me to the most handsome mixed-race young man.

The young man had a small, reddish mole at the corner of his eye, like a frozen teardrop.

I couldn't help but look twice.

However, when he leaned in to kiss me, my face paled and I instinctively dodged.

"...Let's forget it. I'm not in the mood today."

Charlotte pouted, urgently grabbing me.

"I don't care. The person's already here. Whether you use him is up to you, but you must help me with what you promised!"

It turned out that a grand Valentine's Day gala was coming up, with a spectacular exotic dance as the finale---imported from abroad.

But the foreign dancer she'd hired at great expense had run off a month ago to be a wealthy merchant's kept lover.

My mother was a professional dancer, best at this dance.

She was foreign, so I was born with mixed-race eyes, looking different from the locals.

That's why she wanted me to substitute.

Under someone else's roof, I had to bow my head.

I could only agree, on the condition that I wouldn't entertain guests.

She laughed.

"You're here to keep me company and chat anyway. Besides, I only have male models here---how would I make you entertain guests?"

I was given this emergency assignment and rehearsed with the dance troupe for half a month before the Valentine's Day gala arrived.

At nightfall, this city was full of song and dance---a spectacular scene I'd never witnessed in the north.

I wore a water-blue exposed-waist dress, with two magnolia flowers tucked low by my temples, pearl-beaded face veils barely covering half my face, and went on stage barefoot.

I danced to the musician's music, my tense movements gradually relaxing.

The crowd was full of rowdy catcalls and jokes.

In the candlelight, my snow-white, slender waist was on full display---Xavier's favorite part in the past.

Lost in thought, my dance steps unconsciously faltered, and from the corner of my eye I suddenly caught sight of a pair of dark eyes below the stage.

That person was both strange and familiar, with a refined face free of any stubble, sharp features---even more handsome than the city's acknowledged heartthrob.

After staring blankly for a long time, I suddenly realized who those eyes belonged to.

It was Xavier!