Chapter 83

Winnie took a deep breath and stopped speaking. Little did she know, the man in front of her possessed extraordinary self-control and immense restraint. The desire he had first experienced was already deeply imprinted in his heart. When he tasted it for the second time, he was no longer so eager. Instead, he took his time, savoring every detail he hadn't noticed before. As for satisfying himself, He preferred to save that for next time, to keep the freshness. At this moment, Winnie no longer cared whether he had a "problem." She only wanted to know if that fireworks display that had kept her up all night really existed. It turned out, everything was just an illusion. "Your love is really stingy," Winnie said with a hint of contempt, her lips curling slightly. Van's lips curved up a little, a trace of self-mockery in his expression, but he still maintained his calm demeanor. Winnie couldn't read his emotions. At that moment, his gaze caught the button of her cardigan that had popped open. He casually reached over and helped her button it up. His actions and expression remained indifferent, but the attention to detail stunned Winnie. She lowered her head and looked at his fingers—delicate, like porcelain—methodically fastening each button from her abdomen upward. There was no deliberate contact or teasing, only that seemingly unintentional tenderness. Winnie guessed in her mind that she had already "brushed" against him once last night. The next moment, the air suddenly grew tense. Van leaned in, exuding a powerful aura of pressure. Winnie, startled, tightly shut her eyes. They quickly kissed, a wave of passion crashing over them—deep, shallow, sometimes gentle, sometimes fierce. In the confined space of the car, their breaths intermingled, the sound of their breathing clear and audible. "Mr. Marlowe, you're violating the contract," Winnie said, her tone laced with a hint of challenge. Van gently held her hand, forcefully intertwining their fingers. "I'll always violate it from now on." He slightly lifted his eyes, his gaze profound. "I told you, I want you." The car reached the seaside, the headlights illuminating a nearby superyacht. The driver stopped the car. Van took her by the hand and led her down to the yacht. Once aboard, Winnie entered a glamorous world of dazzling lights and fragrant perfumes. A day of vacation was followed by an evening cocktail party. There weren't many people in the banquet hall. She barely recognized a few familiar faces, but she couldn't remember their names. She never anticipated that, a few days later, these photos would be shared by her fans from a retired supermodel's Instagram account to X. Fans marveled at her sweet smile and graceful demeanor at such an event, while only those within the industry knew that the focus of the photos wasn't the so-called celebrities and models, but rather another, more important set of faces. One of the photos appeared next to the heir of a global luxury goods conglomerate, while another featured the young heir of an international publishing giant and his supermodel girlfriend—whose fashion magazine, Vibe, became the focal point of the entire event. This private yacht party on the open sea gathered some of the most influential figures, the scene glamorous, and anyone able to be in such social circles clearly held a prominent position. The night was deep, with thick clouds obscuring the bright moon. Only the gentle sound of the waves lapping against the boat's hull could be heard, whispering softly. After boarding the yacht, the owner had been waiting for a while. As soon as he saw Van, he immediately stepped forward, shaking his hand, patting him on the shoulder, and embracing him warmly, exuding friendliness. "Watson," Van smiled slightly and introduced warmly, "This is an old friend of mine from the yacht club." Watson was a tall, burly white man, slightly older than Van. His deep golden, short hair was slightly wavy and shiny, as if it had been meticulously groomed, giving off a soft, warm glow. He wore a light gray, custom-made suit, with smooth lines that fit perfectly, accentuating his tall frame and distinguished demeanor. "Old friend?" Watson laughed in mock surprise, his tone carrying a hint of complaint. "In May this year, I waited for you in Spain for half a month and still didn't see you show up!" Van smiled lightly and patted Watson's shoulder. "You should know, I've really been too busy recently." Unlike his usual calm demeanor when facing Winnie, Van appeared more relaxed and natural in his interaction with his friend, as if he had completely entered a more laid-back state. Standing beside Watson was a tall woman, at least 5'8". Her deep brown skin and long, golden curly hair complemented each other beautifully. She wore a loose shirt, and her bare legs and feet left delicate imprints on the soft deck. She smiled warmly and sweetly, radiating confidence. Winnie instantly recognized her. "Becca? I never expected to see you here!" she exclaimed, clearly surprised. It was a name she had never forgotten.