The comments exploded instantly:

“Ahhh! That sounded so good it killed me!”

“Did you see Henry’s ears turn red? This pure-hearted beast is shy!”

“That soft whimper was basically toeing the ferocious beast’s danger zone! Henry’s sanity meter must be nearly drained!”

“This is the moment! Female lead, make your move! His defenses are at their weakest!”

Provoked by the barrage of comments, my face heated up.

That pent-up frustration, the longing to touch him yet not daring to, mixed with the days of suppressed yearning, instantly shattered my reason.

Before I could think, I turned around and met the eyes that had not yet managed to rein in their emotions.

Our gazes locked.

Henry’s hand holding the cotton swab stiffened in midair.

“Um… Hi…”

I drew in a deep breath, my fingers twisting the hem of my shirt as I gathered every ounce of courage I had.

“Since this piece is ruined, then I… I want to get a new one somewhere else.”

Henry looked at me quietly, his voice so low and hoarse it barely sounded human.

“Where?”

I lifted a finger and shakily pointed a little lower on my back, toward those faintly visible indentations.

It was an extremely private and extremely sensitive place.

“I… I want to tattoo it on my lower back.”

The moment the words left my mouth, I saw Henry’s pitch-black pupils contract sharply, narrowing to needle points.

The sudden sense of danger made my skin prickle.

…

“Whoa… Who’s excited?”

“Lower back! So scandalous!”

“The absolute peak of seduction!”

“I heard Henry has a private tattoo of his own, in the same spot, hehehe.”

Henry swallowed.

“You sure?” he asked hoarsely.

I hadn’t thought it through at all, so I tried to redirect the firepower.

“I heard… You have one too?”

I had overheard a staff member mention it once, but I had never seen it myself.

Henry’s breathing became louder.

He pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, as if struggling desperately to restrain himself.

I couldn’t help wondering, would he just throw me out?

Then, Henry slowly straightened.

The pressure in that moment was intense.

Henry had a naturally sullen look, and when he didn’t smile, he could put the fear of God in a petulant child.

But right now, the way he looked at me was like a massive dog who had retracted its claws, seeking only the mercy of its master.

It was as if, with just a beckoning of my hand, he would give me his life.

“Want to see?”

The sense of danger dissipated the moment he spoke.

I nodded without thinking.

“Yes. Definitely.”

Henry’s eyes flicked slightly, a dangerous edge coloring his tone.

“Once you see it, there’s no going back.

“Tattooing this spot will hurt.”

I had cried like a baby the last time I had gotten my collarbone tattooed.

“Then… maybe forget it.”

I breathed a secret sigh of relief.

Henry’s expression said, “I knew it”, but he didn’t expose me.

He seemed in a good mood, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Lie down. I’ll deal with the inflamed area first.”

I obediently lay across the tattoo chair, just like last time.

Yet, somehow, it felt completely different.

For example…

“From now on, if you want to see me, just come, don’t torture yourself.”

“Oh.”

Henry sat behind me so I couldn’t see his expression.

The cold antiseptic brushed over my warm skin, sending shivers down my spine.

As he cleaned the wound, he murmured, “Bear with it.”

“Uh huh…”

But then—

“Miss Rivers, you come running to my shabby shop every day. Doesn’t your fiancé get jealous?”

“Ah?”

The twist was so sudden I almost bit my tongue.

Henry’s tone, in contrast, was calm, like he was asking about the weather.

Yet the pressure of his hand on the cotton swab grew just slightly heavier.

Could it be… that he was jealous?

The comments, of course, went wild:

“Henry’s hand is shaking! The jealousy jar just tipped over!”

“Because of his rough upbringing for being so different, he’s so insecure that he barely dares to look her in the eye.”

“From our point of view, we know the fiancé is just an extra, but Henry doesn’t know that! He thinks the guy’s a tall, rich, handsome rival!”

“For Henry, as long as 'Miss Rivers' looks at him, even just once, he’s willing to be the spare for eternity!”

“Why do they still keep the secret crush play? We want adult tension! Female lead, explain yourself, now!”

Fiancé? Were they talking about that womanizer, Ethan Grant?

“Actually, he and I…”

The explanation had barely left my mouth when my phone's ringtone exploded.

The caller ID read: Ethan Grant.

…

Henry glanced at the name flashing on the screen, and the fingers that had been about to reach for the ink stiffened almost imperceptibly.

In that instant, I felt the air grow cold.

He quickly looked away and refrained from asking any questions.

“I’m going to mix some colors. Let me know when you’re done.”

The curtain partition slid down, cutting off that broad yet lonely silhouette.

I let out a long breath and slid my finger to answer the call.

“Say what you need to say. I’m busy.”

On the other end of the phone, Ethan’s voice came through, amidst a noisy background, as obnoxious as ever.

“Busy with what? Counting ants in that crappy tattoo shop? Tomorrow night’s charity gala. You have to be there.”

I frowned. “Not going. I’m busy.”

“Don’t be like that, my dear Miss Rivers!” Ethan panicked.

“That Whitman girl just got back to Riverton.

“Tomorrow night, she’s definitely going to eat me alive. Since we’re both involved, you have to act this whole thing out with me!”

He paused, and his tone grew unusually solemn.

“You need to act especially in love with me.

“Holding hands, hugging… Even a kiss or two is fine! My parents have to believe we’re madly in love and that you won’t marry anyone but me. Otherwise, I won’t be able to explain myself!”

“Acting is exhausting enough, and you want me to kiss you? Dream on,” I snapped irritably.

“As long as you help me this time and cooperate to make this whole act look real, I’ll have that limited-edition motorcycle you've always wanted delivered straight to your home.”

At the mention of the motorcycle, the refusal already on my lips took an abrupt turn.

It was the same model Henry had admired the last time he saw it.

A sly glint flashed in my eyes as I lowered my voice.

“Deal. I’ll be there on time tomorrow. Remember what you said. I want that motorcycle as payment.”

“Alright, alright. As long as you cooperate, forget the motorcycle, I'll pluck the stars from the sky for you!”

After hanging up, I was happily scheming how to get the motorcycle to Henry, but when I looked up, the partition curtain had been lifted.

Henry stood there, holding a fresh cup of ink, his expression unreadable.

Yet the controlled edge of his temper now seemed to seep out uncontrollably, tendrils of it drifting around him, tinting his pitch-black eyes with a hint of scarlet.

I shivered involuntarily.

Wasn’t the air-conditioning a bit too cold?

Before I could say anything, several scarlet comments appeared:

“It’s over, it’s over! Henry heard everything!”

“Don’t forget! The beast’s hearing is a hundred times better than a human’s. Even through the curtain, it’s like shouting into his ear!”

“He heard your words… He’s definitely thinking the female lead is selling her body for that motorcycle!”

“Henry must be thinking: “So she behaves so obediently in front of that rich kid, willing to kiss him for money… My heart is shattered into pieces.”

Was it really like that?

My chest tightened.

I wanted to explain, but looking at Henry’s icy, unreadable face, I didn’t even know where to start.

If I told him I was “performing” just to get him a new motorcycle, would he think I was selling myself?

Or worse, consider it an insult?

In the few seconds I spent hesitating, Henry had already walked behind me.

He said nothing, not even the teasing remark he had made earlier.

The hand in the black glove clenched the tattoo machine tightly, his knuckles whitening from the force.

That suppressed despair, the kind that wanted to destroy everything yet had no choice but to restrain itself, was so intense it made my heart jolt.

“Lie down.”

The words were brief, his voice cold as ice.

I obediently lay back down, hardly daring to breathe.

Just then, my phone screen lit up again.

Ethan had sent a message:

[Wear something nice tomorrow night. You have to outshine everyone. Make my parents feel like this money was well spent. Whatever you do, don’t let anything slip!]

The notification popped up at the worst possible angle, directly in Henry’s line of sight.

Although I reacted quickly and turned off the screen, the prickling sensation only grew sharper.

I was finished.

He completely misunderstood it.

Henry did not say anything as he wiped my skin with an alcohol pad.

The spot I had just picked open began to sting sharply under his movements.

This time, he did not tell me to bear with it.

He continued until the area was cleaned and the color reapplied.

Then Henry suddenly spoke in a low voice, so hoarse it barely sounded like his own.

“Are you short on money?”

“Huh?” I froze for a moment.

“No, I’m not.”

Henry paused.

His mouth twitched, and the light in his eyes dimmed completely.

Of course, how could Miss Rivers ever be short on money?

What she lacked might only be the vanity of that social circle, or the “transaction” offered by that man.

And what was Henry, then?

Nothing more than a sad man lurking in the shadows, watching her dress up beautifully for another man.

The comments went wild again:

“This hurts so much! This big, stupid beast! He thinks the female lead made that deal for true love!”

“Henry must be thinking right now: “I’ll give you my life, okay? Just don’t be with that man.”

“But he’s insecure! He thinks he’s dirty, thinks he’s unworthy, and doesn’t even believe he has the right to ask her to stay!”

“Explain already, female lead! Don’t you have a mouth?”

I panicked and tried to turn around, but Henry pressed a hand firmly against my shoulder.

“Don’t move.”

He drew in a deep breath, as if summoning every ounce of strength to suppress the storm of emotion inside him.

“It’ll be over soon.”

The next ten minutes passed in silence.

Only the buzzing of the tattoo machine filled the air, like a saw cutting through both his heart and mine.

Finally, it was done.

Henry applied the healing film with hands so impossibly gentle, it clashed sharply with the icy expression he wore.

He removed his gloves and tossed them into the trash without looking at me, then slid a business card across the table.

“Save my number.”

The command carried a strength that allowed no refusal.

I blankly took out my phone.

“In the future…” Henry said, his voice barely audible, “if someone hurts you… or… he doesn’t want you anymore…

“Come to me anytime.

“I’ll be here. Always.”

A sting hit my nose.

This guy… Even after all this misunderstanding, his first instinct was still to leave me a way out.

“Then… if I miss you, can I come too?”

I tilted my head up and asked boldly.

The hand Henry was using to tidy his tools trembled violently, and a pair of scissors in the tray nearly clattered to the floor.

He spun around sharply, locking his gaze on me.

In that look, there was shock, doubt, and a trace of wild hope clawing its way to the surface.

Just then, a voice called from outside.

The butler, Aflred, was telling me to hurry.

I had no choice but to leave.