Yannick was a grown man. If he did not cooperate, how long could I keep him here?

"Yulia, let me go. I promise I won’t leave."

I froze for two seconds, then stubbornly shook my head. "I don’t believe you."

"Yulia, I have something important to do. You can follow me, but you need to let me out."

Yannick thought that by offering this compromise, I would agree immediately. But I refused without hesitation. I told him firmly, "Until the police show up at my door, you’re staying here."

With that, he realized there was no way out. His dark eyes scanned me from head to toe several times. Then, unexpectedly, he gave in. "If you keep me tied up for seven days, my arms and legs will be crippled. Is that what you want?"

"No. But I have no other choice. I can’t fight you, and I can’t stop you. This is the only way."

"Yulia, I swear on my grandmother’s name that I won’t leave for seven days."

Mrs. Jordan Senior…

I knew how much she meant to him. I also knew that she had genuinely cared for me. When she passed away, Yannick and I had hidden in a corner, sobbing uncontrollably. That was the first time I had ever seen him cry.

"If you want my cooperation, you’d better untie me. Otherwise, by this afternoon, your house will be forcibly broken into by the police." Yannick’s voice was calm and sincere, and I knew he wasn’t lying. The CEO of Jordan Group going missing? That was a big deal.

I wanted to keep him here, but I did not want to be remembered as a criminal. I did not even need to guess it—of course, the media would twist the story into something absurd and scandalous.

Hence, I gave in.

I threw his clothes at him and slowly untied his wrists and ankles.

As he clenched his jaw and stretched his stiff limbs, he scolded me without mercy, "How did I never realize you were a lunatic?"

Expressionless, I replied, "There’s a lot you don’t know."

He stared at the mess of neckties on the floor, then turned to me in disbelief. "Where did you even get so many ties?"

"I bought them whenever I saw one that seemed to suit you. I didn’t realize I had collected this many."

At least they hadn't gone to waste—I had finally found a use for them.

"Then why didn’t you ever give them to me?"

I scoffed. "I don’t make a habit of throwing myself at someone who doesn’t care about me."

Yannick’s expression darkened. "So, you just decided to take what you wanted by force?"

Hearing that, my face burned with embarrassment. I had not thought about the consequences when I acted on impulse. But now, hearing him say it out loud, I suddenly felt incredibly ashamed.

Wanting a man so badly that I had to tie him up?

Ridiculous.

But the feeling passed quickly. I told myself that if I was going to do something crazy in this lifetime, at least this was worth it.

…

Yannick kept his word. After I let him go, he did not immediately try to leave. Instead, he asked for my laptop.

"You’re sending an email to Jason to ask for help?"

He gave me a look like I was an idiot. "Are you stupid? If I wanted to leave, I wouldn’t need anyone’s help."

I was not stupid. It was more accurate to say that my brain completely shut down. Still, I handed him the laptop.

I had already quit my job, so it was not like I had any use for it anymore.

While Yannick worked on the balcony, I curled up on the couch in the living room, silently watching him. The sunlight filtered in at just the right angle, creating the illusion of peace and serenity. Except this "serenity" was something I had shamelessly forced into existence.

The sun was blinding. The longer I watched, the sleepier I felt. I tried to stay awake, but eventually, my consciousness slipped away.

When I opened my eyes again, Yannick was nowhere in sight. I shot up, my bare feet hitting the cold floor as I frantically looked around. Then, I bolted into the bathroom. My heart, which had been in my throat, finally settled back.

But my rationality? It disappeared the moment I saw him.

I threw myself at him.

I did not have experience, so I had no technique. I just bit and kissed him wildly, desperate to leave a mark. My heart felt like it was constantly crashing into my ribs. I clung to him like an octopus, holding on with everything I had, afraid he would push me away.

Then, in a daze, I heard him sigh in exasperation. A strong arm wrapped around me, pulling me up.

"You’re insane," he muttered. "But I like it."

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"What do you like?" Before I could react, he bit my neck. And just like that, the tables turned. I was starting to believe what Quella always said. For men, love and desire were two completely different things.

Afterward, when the heat faded, Yannick leaned against the bed, studying me like I was some kind of alien species. "Yulia, I’m seriously starting to think you’ve been possessed."

It made sense that he was suspicious. After all, I was not acting like the person he used to know.

I gave him a solemn nod. "Yeah, I've been possessed by a horny ghost."

He narrowed his eyes. "And this ghost couldn’t find anyone else?"

I tilted my head. "Guess you were just the easiest prey."

I grabbed my phone to order food, but he caught my wrist.

"What? You seduced me and took everything you wanted, so now, you want to toss me aside?"

I ignored him.

Thirty minutes later, the doorbell rang.

When I returned, Yannick’s gaze was locked on the yellow paper bag in my hands, and his pupils shrank. He saw what I pulled out from it—a small box of pills. His expression darkened. In a flash, he was in front of me, his grip tightening around my chin.

"Yulia! What the hell are you doing? You’re taking this stuff?"

I winced. "What, you want me to pop out an heir for the Jordan family?"

His entire face burned with fury. "You had the nerve to do this, but you’re afraid of having a kid?"

"You’re hurting me!" I tried to pry his fingers off, but he was too pissed to notice. So, I made something up and said, "Of course, I’d love to give birth to a Jordan heir. But I took antibiotics for a cold a few days ago."

I gave him a pointed look and continued, "What, you think I’d get pregnant just to blackmail you?"

His gaze turned icy. "You wish, you greedy woman."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, please. If you didn’t want it, I couldn’t have forced you."

He looked furious, and I thought he would storm out. Instead, he slammed the guest room door shut.

Hah. I guessed he did keep his promises.

And suddenly, I felt kind of guilty.

…

Back in high school, Yannick was the kind of guy everyone liked—warm, easygoing, and always ready with a joke.

His family moved into the villa next door right when my world fell apart. My parents were in the middle of a messy divorce, and one day, they just… left. No goodbye, no explanations—they were just gone.

I sat on the doorstep, crying quietly. I was too proud to sob out loud. That was when he walked over, handed me a tissue, and, for some reason, a piece of candy. That was just how he was.

Later, he transferred to my school. We were in the same grade but in different classes. And from the moment he showed up, he became the top student and never let go of this spot.

At the time, I was struggling. I had been left behind, so I was angry and depressed.

But Yannick? He showed up every day—bringing me lunch, helping me with homework, and keeping me company.

Eventually, he introduced me to his parents. Jordan and Louisa were wonderful, kind, and welcoming. They were a real family.

Especially Louisa. Whenever she went shopping, she would pick out clothes for me like it was the most normal thing in the world. Then, she would make Yannick drop them off at my place.

I felt awkward about it at first, but she would just smile and pat my shoulder. "Yulia, don’t overthink it. I’ve always wanted a daughter, and I feel a special bond with you. If I see something that suits you, of course, I’m going to buy it."

One time, when Yannick was walking me home, he laughed while ruffling my hair. "My mom just likes you, so take the gifts and stop overanalyzing everything."

And that was that.

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When it came to money, my so-called parents had never held back on me. But to them, I was nothing more than a painful reminder of their failed marriage—something neither of them wanted to look at.

The Jordans, though? They were a ray of sunlight cutting through the storm. They treated me like family. I knew they were good people, and I also knew they pitied me.

And now? Now, I had their son wrapped around my finger.

Did I feel guilty?

Not even a little.

If he did not want this, there was no way I could have made it happen. But this was just me lying to myself.

Yannick locked himself in the guest room the whole day and did not come out until nighttime. I sat at the dinner table, staring at the untouched food. I was not hungry.

I knocked on his door. "Dinner is ready."

To my surprise, he opened the door and walked out like nothing had happened. He sat down in silence, and his whole vibe screamed, "Don’t even think about talking to me."

I did not care, though. I pulled out a handful of condoms with a blank face. "Pick one."

Yannick lost it. "You seriously can’t get enough of me?"

I nodded. "Maybe."

With an exasperated sigh, he grabbed a strawberry-flavored one and flopped onto the bed. Seeing him like this, a random line of poetry popped into my head.

"May you take as much as you please."

I put in the work, and soon, so did he. By the end, he bit my ear, his voice low and furious as he said, "Yulia! I swear to God, I’m going to kill you!"

I was too drained to respond. But in my heart, I thought that there was no need for him to do so. That day would come on its own.

…

For three days, Yannick was perfectly fine. Every morning, he handled work calls like a pro as he ran his company from afar. Every evening, he somehow found time to mess with me.

Meanwhile, I felt like absolute crap. So, I kicked him out.

Yannick leaned against the doorframe, smirking. "Already sick of me?"

I did not even look at him. "Yeah."

With that, his door slammed shut.

…

On the fourth day, I crashed.

I was having a fever, nausea… The whole deal.

Yannick, realizing I had not made breakfast, stormed in—only to find me curled up in bed. "Yulia, what’s wrong?"

He pressed a hand to my forehead, frowning. "You have a fever."

I weakly shoved him away. "Go away."

Instead, he scooped me up. "You’re going to the hospital."

I clawed at the bedsheets. "No."

"Yulia! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Tears blurred my vision, and my mind was slipping. "If I walk out that door… You won't be coming back…"

His grip on my wrist tightened for a second, and his voice softened. "Relax. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere."

"I won’t go…"

…

When I woke up, I was still home. Yannick sat beside the bed, murmuring into his phone. From the sound of it, it was a work call.

An IV line ran from my arm. Seeing that, I knew he must have called his private doctor. I was relieved. As long as I was here, he would not find out anything.

But I also knew… it was time to let him go.

Yannick always kept his promises, but I never really had him. What I had was his patience.

He looked exhausted due to the constant work calls and emails. The shadows under his eyes were getting darker as well.

Noticing I was awake, he quickly hung up the phone.

"You’re up?"

"Yeah. How long was I out?"

"A whole day. But at least your fever’s gone."

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