Obsessive Devotion Ice-Cold Tycoon's Calculated Proposal

The effects of the drug took hold quickly. Vivian's eyelashes fluttered as she exhaled softly, her face flushed with sweat. Her eyes were half-lidded, a dreamy, dazed expression on her face as she whimpered and moaned, her body curling against Daniel like a soft snake, rubbing herself against him without any sense of restraint, inadvertently stirring desire.

Daniel's throat was dry, his pulse racing. He didn't know if she was in pain, but he could feel himself losing control. This can't go on.

"Then let's start," Daniel murmured.

Sophia had prepared the antidote, and Daniel held Vivian's left arm, applying an alcohol swab to disinfect the area. He then searched for the right vein, readying the needle.

Just as the needle touched her skin, Vivian suddenly began to struggle violently. Unlike the hallucinatory effects of the drug, the sharp pain of the needle was real. Vivian, who had been terrified of injections since childhood, whimpered, a tear spilling from the corner of her eye. She curled up against Daniel's chest, like a frightened kitten.

Daniel tightened his hold on her arm, his voice softer than he intended, soothing her with a gentle whisper, "Vivi, don't be afraid. It'll be over soon."

He drew her closer to him, one arm wrapped around her waist, while his other hand carefully held her arm in place. His fingers, dry and warm, touched her burning skin, the contrast providing her some relief.

The closeness of their skin was tangible, real, and Vivian seemed to respond to his words, closing her eyes and sniffling a few times before quieting down.

Daniel then gave Sophia a silent nod, signaling her to proceed.

The antidote worked quickly. Within five minutes of the injection, Vivian's flushed complexion began to settle, her erratic breathing slowly evening out.

"Mr. Smith, your arm… should we tend to the wound?"

Sophia hesitated for a moment, noticing the discrepancy. According to rumors, Mr. Smith had an obsessive-compulsive disorder regarding cleanliness—everything around him, from tables to chairs, was maintained spotless, almost to the point of illness.

But now, she could see that things were different. His custom-made suit was tossed carelessly on the sofa, the fabric covered in faint shoe prints. His black shirt was crumpled, smeared with a bit of foundation, likely from the woman in his arms. Even with Vivian's clothes soiled and stained with blood, he held her close without a second thought.

Earlier, when he had dealt with the man, Daniel's arm had been accidentally sliced by the knife, leaving a long, narrow cut that bled freely. The blood had soaked through his sleeve, and Daniel carefully wiped it with a tissue, his voice barely a whisper, "It's just a small wound, no need to worry. When will she wake up?"

"About half an hour," Sophia answered, already preparing to leave.

When she left, the room was left with just the two of them.

The room was dimly lit, only the two soft yellow bedside lamps casting their glow. Daniel's jawline was tense as he stared at Vivian, his gaze heavy and unyielding. He reached out slowly, brushing his fingers over her cheek.

She had lost weight. Her face looked fuller, but her body lacked any substantial flesh—her waist so thin that he could wrap his whole hand around it.

How had she become so frail over these years?

Her pale skin bore faint handprints, reminders of the violence she had nearly endured. A wave of anger surged through Daniel's chest, and he thought to himself that he hadn't been brutal enough. He should have killed that bastard.

Then, another thought crept into his mind. She hasn't learned at all. She'd trusted others so easily, falling into danger. This time, he was there to save her, but what if something like this happened again, and he wasn't around?

His frustration built, and he gripped her cheek a little too hard, as though trying to squeeze out the thoughts plaguing his mind. Vivian whimpered softly, her brow furrowing as she stirred in her sleep. Her lips mumbled something inaudible, and he leaned closer, straining to catch her words. But all he could hear was the soft sound of her breathing.

She seemed less distressed now, and as he prepared to get up, Vivian moved too, instinctively reaching for him.

Her arms snaked around his neck, pulling him back toward her. She nuzzled into him, her body naturally pulling him closer.

Daniel, caught off guard, fell into her embrace. Their lips brushed together, the contact electric. He froze, heart pounding, unable to make sense of the situation. Vivian was still unconscious, her eyes closed, yet her lips were warm, soft, and inviting.

Vivian, though still in a haze, felt the proximity of Daniel's body and couldn't resist. Her lips parted slightly, her tongue flicking out, tasting him with a tentative lick, as though thirsting for more.

Daniel felt a surge of heat that threatened to consume him, his self-control slipping away as he watched her, helpless, her soft body molding against his. He could feel the pressure building inside him, the urge to give in overwhelming. But he fought it back, turning his head slightly, trying to suppress the growing fire within him.

He could almost feel the pull, like a fish nibbling at the bait, not yet ready to let go, but Vivian, seemingly aware of the scent of desire, pressed closer, her lips brushing against his. She gently bit his lower lip, a soft, teasing tug.

"Mm..." The sound of her satisfaction sparked something deep within him. It was as if the flames had been stoked, and before he could react, her lips parted more fully, and his will broke. He kissed her back fiercely, consuming her sweetness.

"Don't… don't…" she murmured weakly as he kissed her deeply, her body quivering with a mixture of pleasure and discomfort. She couldn't bear it, the intensity overwhelming her, and she struggled against him.

Her breath became ragged, and her body twisted in his arms, as though she was torn between her desires and her past pain. She muttered his name, but it wasn't him—"Ethan… let go…"

The moment those words left her lips, Daniel's movements faltered. His eyes snapped open, his chest tightening in confusion and anger.

He stared at her, unable to tell if she was truly speaking to him or reliving a past torment.

"Is he really that hard to let go of?" Daniel asked in a low, hoarse voice, his grip tightening as he tried to control the surging emotions within him.

She didn't answer. Instead, tears began to slip from the corners of her eyes, and she pushed weakly at his chest, her face contorted in discomfort.

"Do you hate me that much?" His voice was strained, full of unspoken frustration, his body still close to hers, as if afraid to pull away completely.

Vivian, trapped between reality and her memories, whispered again, "Let go…"

The words struck him like a blow, dousing the fire in his chest. His heart sank, and his anger dissipated, leaving only the weight of his unspoken feelings.

He could feel her warmth, her softness, and yet her mind seemed far from him. As she slept, unaware of the battle between them, Daniel's heart fractured further.