Chapter 116

Van placed her gently on the bed, his eyes never leaving hers. He reached for her feet, easily slipping off her slippers, and then leaned over her, his body lightly pressing down. Her thick hair lay in soft waves, like a cloud resting against her neck. Van tilted his head and gently pushed aside a strand, admiring the delicate lines of her neck and earlobe, then brought his face closer, his nose lightly brushing against the back of her ear. He hadn't slept well the previous night, and thoughts of her had occupied his mind throughout the day. Between back-to-back meetings and piles of paperwork, the added worry of Wendy possibly struggling with everything only intensified his stress. By mid-afternoon, around three o'clock, he couldn't wait any longer and rushed over to check on her. Winnie felt his breath against her skin, a tickling sensation that made her want to pull away, but she couldn't escape. Van chuckled lightly. "Are you really that mad, just because I didn't lend you the money?" "I'm not angry," Winnie snapped, but her eyes betrayed her as they began to glisten with tears. She had never felt so humbled, never had she asked so desperately, forcing herself to speak up for help, only to be met with his unrelenting refusal. She felt wronged, but more than that, she felt a deep sense of shame. It wasn't because she had lost her dignity, but because she had realized that she had once held unrealistic expectations of him. Van leaned in slightly, speaking in a soft voice, "Eric gave you 20 million this morning as an advance on the contract, not as a loan from me. That way, the investment split between you and Wendy will be fair, and after the contract is terminated, there will still be enough funds for the studio and the new movie. I've already found a lawyer, so you don't have to worry." "And how much did Wendy get?" "She has 30 million of her own. I gave her 50 million." "Are you trying to be my boss?" Winnie raised an eyebrow and asked. Van chuckled lightly. "You and she will split the profits fifty-fifty. I'm not involved in that. When she makes money, she'll pay me back fifty million with interest. Does that make you feel better?" "So you can lend her fifty million, but you can't lend me." "Are you comparing yourself to her?" Van's words stopped Winnie in her tracks, and her breath caught for a moment. Van's gaze deepened, carrying a sense of calculation. "Wendy is my cousin. Do you think you can compare yourself to her?" An inexplicable bitterness surged in Winnie's heart, and she felt a sharp sense of shame. Suddenly, she understood and felt a clarity in her mind. Of course, he wasn't obligated to help her, and he certainly had no responsibility to lend her money. Helping her was a favor, not a duty, and how could she be upset just because he refused to lend her money? She shouldn't have compared herself to Wendy. Her place was never meant to be compared with Wendy's. She calmed down and said softly, "Mr. Marlowe, you misunderstood me. I just meant that, although advancing 70 million is somewhat inappropriate, there are precedents. We have a contract, and as a public figure, I would never default. As for the remaining thirty million, I was planning to borrow from you; after all, for you, it's just pocket change." She smiled, "But I miscalculated earlier. I missed 10 million last night; there's about 60 million in my account. If Terry lends me 20 million and I get another 20 million from the bank, that makes at least 100 million. I can also liquidate other investments, including real estate, vineyards, shops, office buildings, stocks, and funds. So no problem at all." "You haven't answered me," Van ignored her speech and asked directly, "Do you think you can compare yourself to Wendy?" Winnie's eyes flickered, and she said quietly, "I don't think so; I just spoke without thinking, please don't laugh at me." Van gently brushed her hair aside, his penetrating gaze making her shiver involuntarily. Moments later, without warning, he leaned down and kissed her. Winnie tensed up from his kiss, her breath quickening, her hands clenched into fists, pushing against his shoulders in anger, but he quickly embraced her, pinning her down onto the pillow. The pillow was soft, her palm and forearm sinking into its surface. Van's thumb gently massaged her palm. The kiss deepened, causing Winnie to sweat lightly, her nightgown pushed up to her stomach. Van's warm, moist breath enveloped her ear, his low, husky voice whispering, "Listen, next time, compare yourself to someone more significant." Winnie was stunned, her throat dry, her breathing heavy, her chest pounding, the sound of her heartbeat filling her ears, almost drowning out everything else. Van kissed her again, this time lifting her into his embrace and holding her tightly against him. His hand pressed against her back as he kissed her with a tenderness that spoke of longing and devotion. Yulia whispered, "Why aren't they fighting? No throwing things? I was ready to go in and mediate." Wendy agreed. "Yeah, why aren't they fighting? Are they actually talking reasonably?" "Is Mr. Marlowe really planning to reason with her?" Yulia seemed to know Winnie well. "She doesn't go for that." Wendy smiled, "My cousin is different; he always finds a way to convince you, even if you don't want to listen."