Chapter 2 No.2

5

The supervisor, still fuming after scolding us, demanded that the entire market research department work overtime.

My colleagues either sighed in frustration or whispered complaints, cursing the supervisor and Jorvin.

Theoretically, I should also be cursing Jorvin, but considering the 50 million dollars he gave me, this issue seemed too trivial.

At 6:30, a text message notification sounded.

The message contained two lines of bold and suggestive words.

"Jorvin is in a very bad mood today. You should seize the opportunity, suddenly kiss him hard, and kiss him until he's stunned."

I immediately turned off the screen.

What was Jorvin up to?

The screen was filled with the word "kiss." Yesterday it was about kissing, and today it's about kissing hard.

Was his memory fallible? I'd never kissed him, nor had I ever said I liked him.

Feeling guilty, I glanced around to see that everyone was still buried in their work.

"But he's in a bad mood today. If I kiss him, won't that make him even more upset?"

Clearly, Jorvin was setting a trap for me.

If I kissed him when he was unhappy, I'd at least get verbally humiliated.

So the 50 million dollars wasn't for nothing. Today he was finally going to benefit from it.

I thought for a moment and then typed a few words, "Why is he in a bad mood today?"

After three or four minutes, the reply came, "I don't know. I'm not Jorvin."

He gave himself away.

6

I almost burst out laughing.

"Forget it. If he's in a bad mood, I'd better not provoke him. It'd be counterproductive."

Almost instantly, another text message arrived with a "ding," as if in a hurry.

"No way. When men are angry, that's when they're most vulnerable. If you suddenly kiss him, surprising him, his dopamine will surge, and he'll fall in love with you."

Staring at this pseudo-scientific nonsense, I was speechless.

I couldn't help but respond sarcastically. "Wow, you know him so well. You must really love him."

Seeing no more messages, I set my phone aside.

An hour later, at 7:30, my favorite ringtone went off. I glanced at my phone and saw the name Jorvin displayed on the screen.

"Why aren't you back yet?" Jorvin's tone was flat, but it carried a hint of displeasure.

"Working overtime," I said casually, still sitting at my desk.

With a "beep," the call was abruptly ended.

I muttered under my breath, wondering what was wrong with him.

Glancing at the 10-second call in my call log, I quietly cursed under my breath, calling Jorvin a jerk.

7

That jerk must have done something sneaky.

Because less than a minute later, the supervisor burst into the office, urgently announcing that the overtime was over and everyone was to go home immediately.

My colleagues cheered in joy.

I felt nothing special, took my bag and leisurely headed downstairs to drive home.

In reality, the place I was going back to wasn't my home. It was Jorvin's house.

After we got engaged, I moved in due to Jorvin's grandfather's wishes or maybe to prove a point to my mom. Either way, I somehow ended up living at Jorvin's place.

As I approached the house, I noticed the lights in the living room were on, which didn't surprise me at all.

The lights were always on in the evenings.

Tonight, however, Jorvin was in the living room, his broad shoulders leaning against the fabric sofa, exuding a lazy, yet elegant and refined air.

I was so startled I took half a step back.

Even though I didn't make a sound, he looked like he was witnessing a comedy show, turning his head slightly, a faint, mocking smile forming at the corner of his mouth.

"You can't even stand straight just because you saw me?"

Ignoring his question, I asked, "Why aren't you resting in your room?"

It was late at night, and instead of resting in his own room, he was sitting in the living room like a ghost, scaring me out of my wits. This was all his fault.

His gaze flickered for a moment, revealing a hint of guilt, but he quickly regained his composure and said, "What do you think?"

What did I think?

I shrugged, letting my gaze drift over Jorvin's face.

"How should I know? I'm not inside your head."

His eyes were deep, but there seemed to be a spark burning within, like a river flowing with desire.

I felt something was off.

He... Could he be waiting for me to kiss him?