Yates Donovan had no idea what was happening. Mia Grant came out of the bedroom after washing up and immediately started whaling on his head.

The two of them tumbled onto the sofa in a heap.

"Ouch! Not the face!"

"Go easy!"

At this point, his only ground rule for her was: hit him anywhere but the face.

After all, last night... ahem.

It was only right to let her blow off some steam.

After beating him up, Mia Grant stood up, panting, and walked to the dining room to chow down.

Her stomach was already rumbling with hunger.

’I’ll settle the score after I’ve had something to eat.’

A moment later, Yates Donovan followed and sat down across from her.

Mia Grant viciously bit into her steak, glaring at him.

"Tsk, what’s your beef with the food? If you’re still not satisfied, come on, take a few bites out of me."

As he spoke, he pulled open his shirt collar. A few buttons popped, revealing a patch of cool, pale skin.

Yates Donovan’s skin was very fair—probably among the top two of everyone she knew.

Number one was Felix Sinclair.

Everyone else had a healthy, tanned complexion.

But that wasn’t the point.

Mia Grant’s pupils contracted as her peripheral vision caught the red marks on his chest.

Her gaze must have been too direct, too naked, because Yates Donovan seemed a little uncomfortable. He followed her line of sight and glanced down.

’It’s nothing, just...’

The next second, he saw something and raised an eyebrow.

Oh~

"I forgot, you already bit here yesterday. Try the right side."

With that, he tugged the right side of his shirt open, revealing another field of suggestive marks.

Mia Grant shut her eyes as if facing a firing squad.

It was no exaggeration to say her mind felt like it was being bombed.

’How can a person be like this?’

She had learned from the System that she had been the one to initiate it, so she was mentally prepared for this.

But she hadn’t expected... that she was so thirsty.

The bite marks had deepened in color overnight. They were strikingly visible against his cool, pale skin, like a series of tattoos.

"Oh, my apologies." He pulled his open collar closed as if he’d only just noticed, then asked in a helpless tone, "Or should we find another spot?"

"That’s enough, that’s enough." Mia Grant made a hushing gesture. "No talking at the table, thank you."

"But I’m not hungry." Yates Donovan really hadn’t touched his cutlery.

He just sat there, elbow on the table, chin in his hand, fingers resting on his cheek. He looked at her with sparkling eyes, like a lovesick schoolgirl. "I ate my fill last night. And I have you to thank for it."

Mia Grant tightened her grip on her steak knife. "Shut up! One more word out of you, and I can’t promise where this knife will end up next!"

"Alright~" He watched her with a grin, his gaze full of affection, clinging to her like the dew after a night’s rain.

Mia Grant did her best to block him out and struggled to fill her stomach. She elegantly dabbed her mouth with a napkin, then adopted an all-business attitude.

"We need to talk."

Yates Donovan raised an eyebrow, maintaining his previous pose and looking at her eagerly. "Sweetheart, do you know what you look like right now?"

"What?" Mia Grant picked up her water glass.

"A hit-it-and-quit-it scumbag."

"..." A mouthful of water went down the wrong pipe. Mia Grant coughed hard a few times, her cheeks flushing red.

The instigator still wore that same infuriatingly smug look.

"I’m not wrong, am I? The way you started sounds exactly like you want to settle things with me and then draw a clear line between us."

"Let me guess. Your next line is going to be something like, ’Thanks for saving me last night, but it was consensual, and anyway, you blacked out so you don’t remember anything,’ right? Then you’ll tell me not to overthink it and that we should both forget what happened as soon as we walk out this door. If possible, we should act like we never met. You go your way, and I’ll go mine?"

The man recited her prepared, standard-issue scumbag lines with a natural and fluent tone.

...

He said it all in practically one breath, and Mia Grant was nearly knocked senseless by his words.

She blinked. After a long moment, she finally processed it and frowned. "What in the world are you talking about? I’ve told you to watch fewer of those cheesy prime-time melodramas."

Yates Donovan’s brow twitched. "Oh? You have new lines? Let’s hear them. What new scumbag quotes have you got for me?"

Mia Grant’s mouth twitched. She wanted to hit him, but then she remembered that he really had helped her last night. ’I’ll spare his life,’ she decided.

"Forget it. I’ll be the scumbag here." Yates Donovan stopped teasing her. He gave a slight tug at his lips, his tone becoming calm and serious. "In situations like this, the woman usually gets the short end of the stick. Whatever you want to say, or any requests you have, you can just say them."

"We’ll do everything according to your wishes."

"I’m fine with anything. Either way, it’s not like I’m the one losing out."

"Don’t worry. Once we walk out this door, no third person will ever know about this."

’Am I losing out?’

Mia Grant asked herself.

’I don’t think so.’

She just felt a little... ashamed.

She didn’t feel like she’d gotten the short end of the stick at all.

It was just like he’d said—it was consensual.

Besides, she was the one who had initiated it.

"I don’t feel like I lost out. I was the one who... made the first move. You were just being kind."

Silence fell.

You could have heard a pin drop in the dining room. Mia Grant felt her ears start to burn for no reason.

After a long moment, the stunned man across from her came to his senses. A pleasant, sexy chuckle escaped his throat.

She looked up and met his gaze.

He said, "Is that so? Don’t you think you’re playing the ’good guy’ card a little too soon?" 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

"In bed, no man is a saint. Did you really think someone could have perfect self-control? Since you blacked out, how can you be so sure I didn’t coax you into going all the way?"

"You wouldn’t do that."

Mia Grant’s gaze suddenly softened, and even her restless emotions calmed down with it.

Yates Donovan froze again, then laughed and put his hand to his forehead. "Sweetheart, did you knock your brains out last night?"

"You should know, you’re on my turf right now. I could wipe the security footage and do whatever I want, and you’d have nowhere to turn for justice."

"You wouldn’t." She was still firm, both in her gaze and her tone.

Yates Donovan’s smile faltered, then slowly vanished.

Looking over, he saw a hint of a smile in her eyes. Her voice was bright and clear as she told him, word by word, "If I hadn’t insisted again and again, you wouldn’t have done this to me."

"If you had wanted to, you had opportunities long before this. But you have always respected me."

"I don’t hate you... or rather, I should say that earlier, back when you called off the engagement, I was truly devastated. I even wanted to get revenge on you at one point."

"I thought you were a truly rotten person, just awful."

"You gave me a glimmer of hope, only to immediately hit me with a crushing blow. It felt like you were pulling all my emotional strings."

"But now, I don’t hate you."

"Because I know that with you, my soul is whole and free."

"Your respect is what gave me courage."

"Without repeatedly confirming and getting my permission, you would never cross that line."

"So, thank you."