The Devil CEO’s Reborn Lover

Morning sunlight filtered through the velvet curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. Wu Mei slowly stirred, her eyelids fluttering open. For a moment, she blinked in confusion. Something cold pressed against her ankles. As she pushed away the silk covers, her breath hitched.

The pink, thin handcuffs were wrapped around her ankles.

Her eyes narrowed.

That obsessive man...

She groaned softly and sat up, brushing a lock of hair from her face. Before she could move further, her phone buzzed on the bedside table. The screen lit up with Mo Qing's name.

Without hesitation, Wu Mei tiptoed to the bathroom, careful not to wake Qin Yanzhou. Once inside, she answered the call.

"Wu Mei," Mo Qing's voice was soft but urgent. "Are you alright? Did he find out want to explore again the cave?"

Wu Mei exhaled quietly. "He didn't.I'm fine. What about you?"

"That place... the tunnel, the house, the field—we've barely scratched the surface. There's so much more down there."

Wu Mei leaned against the bathroom wall, thinking. "I want to go back too. But I'll have to find a way to leave without him chasing after me like a madman."

"Be careful. That ring you found—it might be important," Mo Qing warned.

Wu Mei nodded slowly. Her fingers instinctively touched the red and black ring still on her finger. It hadn't come off.

"I'll call you when I can," she said and ended the call.

After washing her face, brushing her hair, and adjusting her satin robe, she turned toward the door. As she took a step, she felt a faint click at her feet—and to her surprise, the cuffs dropped to the floor.

"Huh?" she whispered, blinking.

But just as she bent down to pick them up—

"So, my fierce little wife thinks she's clever..."

The low, dangerous voice sent a shiver down her spine.

She turned slowly.

Qin Yanzhou stood at the doorway, shirtless, his dark hair tousled and his expression thunderous. His eyes dropped to the cuffs on the floor.

"Did you take them off?" he asked coldly.

"They fell off on their own," Wu Mei said, raising her chin defiantly.

But that only made him angrier.

He stepped into the room, picked up the cuffs, and without another word, knelt in front of her and fastened them gently—but securely—around her ankles again.

"You don't get to run from me, Wu Mei," he said, lifting her in his arms before she could protest.

She gasped and instinctively clung to his neck.

He carried her to the dining table and placed her gently onto the cushioned chair. Breakfast was already arranged—fresh fruit, eggs, and her favorite rice porridge.

"Eat," he ordered.

Wu Mei looked at him silently for a moment. "Yanzhou, I want milk tea."

His brow arched. "You want to leave the house, don't you? To run off the moment I look away?"

She gave him a soft, innocent smile. "It's just milk tea."

He leaned forward and cupped her face in his hand, eyes searching hers. "No. You're staying here. I'll get it myself."

She pouted but nodded.

After breakfast, Wu Mei curled up on the couch, watching a drama on television, her fingers lightly tracing the pattern on her robe. She thought Yanzhou had gone upstairs.

But twenty minutes later, the scent of jasmine and sweet cream filled the room.

She turned and gasped.

Qin Yanzhou stood there, holding out a warm cup of milk tea.

"You... got it for me?"

"Don't think I trust you not to run. I had someone deliver it to the gate."

Touched, Wu Mei took the cup and sipped. "Thank you."

Then she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

His ears turned red instantly.

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing," he muttered. "Sweet kisses just to lull me into letting you go again."

She smiled. "I love you, husband."

Her voice was soft and true.

Then she kissed him on the lips.

Qin Yanzhou stilled.

His hands slowly wrapped around her waist, deepening the kiss. She responded eagerly, her fingers tangling in his hair. His breath came faster as he broke the kiss.

"Hm, my fierce wife wants to play with me?"

He carried her effortlessly toward the bed.

Wu Mei laughed softly, curling into his ches.

He laid her down carefully and reached into the bedside drawer, pulling out a red lace blindfold.

"Today, you belong only to me."

She allowed him to tie it gently over her eyes, darkness wrapping around her sight as anticipation bloomed in her chest.

His lips trailed down her neck, hands tracing the curves of her body with reverence.

Wu Mei nodded, already breathless. His possessiveness wrapped around her like chains—soft, silk-like, and impossible to escape.

His touch was slow and worshipful at first, fingertips teasing every sensitive inch of her skin. He kissed down her belly, hands on her hips, lifting her gently, murmuring things she couldn't quite understand through the haze of feeling.

Every caress was laced with desire and protection—like he was staking his claim.

"You're mine," he whispered against her skin. "Even your soul belongs to me now."

Wu Mei arched, gasping his name, fingers digging into the sheets. She felt the love in every movement, the desperation in every kiss.

When he finally took her, it was slow, deep, and overwhelming.

His body moved against hers with fierce devotion, and he kept whispering, "I won't let you go. Never."

She clung to him, trembling, whispering. " I will not run from you."

As they reached their peak together, Wu Mei's tears slipped from under the blindfold—not from pain, but from the intensity of being loved so completely.

Afterward, he held her in his arms, the blindfold removed, her head on his chest as he stroked her hair.

"Don't make me go crazy again, Mei," he whispered. "You scared me. I couldn't breathe when I thought you'd disappeared."

"I'm here," she murmured.

His arms tightened.

And this time, neither of them moved from the bed, wrapped in the heat of obsession and the slow-burning realization that love—no matter how twisted—was consuming them both.