Chapter 21: Such a Deep Game
2644words
I shuddered, my small hands clenched tightly.
Barely recovered from the kiss, he had already made a second request.
I understood his "want"—I could feel a strong pressure against my lower abdomen.
I didn't know whether to agree to his invitation. It seemed inappropriate in broad daylight, and my lips were already numb, my body weak. If we did that now, would I even be able to board the plane tonight?
"Can we..." His voice was urgent, his hoarse voice extremely raspy.
Just as I was about to refuse, his phone rang.
Ethan sighed, pressing his forehead harder against mine.
His darkened eyes were filled with murderous intent.
I was too scared to look at him.
His trembling lips lightly brushed mine. "I'm sorry, I frightened you..."
The phone stopped ringing, and my heart was in my throat.
He slowly let go, but the phone started ringing again. He turned slightly and walked away.
I let out a sigh of relief and hurriedly fixed my disheveled appearance.
"Speak." Ethan's tone on the phone was harsh, seemingly angry at being interrupted.
I took this opportunity to quickly walk away.
Throughout the afternoon, Ethan noticed I was deliberately avoiding him.
However, he spent the entire afternoon handling business matters, either in meetings or discussing projects with Noah.
It wasn't until dinner time that he emerged from the study.
While I was eating, Noah sent me a message.
[Madam, the boss is in such a good mood today. Were those tulips from you?]
Even Noah, the serious assistant, was shipping us.
[What makes you say that?]
[What have you been doing all day? Check social media.]
What could I have been doing? Being kissed senseless in the morning and avoiding him in the afternoon.
I glanced at Ethan sitting across from me, then looked at my phone and quickly opened his social media account.
[Not bad.] with a photo of [tulips]
"..." I picked up a piece of beef, secretly glancing at him.
But I couldn't detect anything unusual in his expression—cold as ever.
[During a 90-minute video conference, his eyes were never on the video, always on the left side of his computer. Are those tulips on the left side of his computer?]
Thinking back, they really were!
[You could change careers, Detective Noah.]
[Madam is amazing! Looks like this stone called Ethan is finally sprouting.]
I smiled secretly, covered my phone, placed it on the table, and continued eating.
Yes, spring had arrived...
I'd often heard colleagues gossip in the office. They said after graduating from university, he joined the military, but later returned after injuring his leg. His girlfriend of three years left him, and he'd been single ever since.
Not only single, but they said he didn't even approach women—disciplined and abstinent.
"You've looked at me thirteen times during this meal. Is there something you want to ask?" Ethan raised his eyes to meet my wide ones.
"Cough, cough..." His sudden comment made me choke on the slightly spicy beef.
What kind of eyesight did he have? How did he notice? Was he an eagle?
And thirteen times? How bored was he to count each time...
Ethan quickly went to the kitchen to get me a glass of warm water.
I took the glass and drank large gulps. Ethan naturally used a napkin to wipe the water from the corner of my mouth.
Ethan didn't rush to question me but continued eating while watching me attentively, seemingly waiting for my answer.
I looked at the napkin in his hand that had wiped my lips, then tremblingly said:
"I'm sorry, I just thought you were too handsome, so I looked a few extra times."
The maid and butler in the distance could barely contain their laughter but were afraid of being scolded by their master, so they quietly walked out of the courtyard to laugh.
I pressed my lips together, trying not to smile.
He was indeed very handsome! Among young men, he was definitely at the top.
His exquisite features, deep eyes, paired with his crew cut and the body honed by military training were undeniably perfect standards—I could feel that.
But Ethan remained as cold as a statue, staring at me blankly.
Then he silently lowered his head and continued eating.
"..." I awkwardly buried my head in my food too.
He could at least say thank you...
Not saying a word made me lose face.
---
At precisely 10:30, the butler put the luggage in the trunk, and Ethan and I sat in the back seat.
The butler first picked up Noah, then headed to the airport.
Upon arriving at the airport, just as we got out of the car, we ran into Marcus Hamilton and his assistant Claire.
"Ethan!" Marcus and Claire greeted in unison.
Ethan nodded, and Claire stepped forward to take Ethan's luggage.
"Marcus," I greeted.
We all walked into the airport together.
Noah and Ethan walked in front, discussing something, Claire followed behind, while Marcus and I were at the back.
"How come you arrived in the same car as Ethan?" Marcus asked cautiously.
"Carpooling," I smiled.
"William does private jobs too?" he asked, somewhat surprised.
Haha—
"Want to go to Dream Town together? Ethan specifically gave us a day of free time, perfect for visiting the fashion capital," Marcus invited enthusiastically.
Dream Town was a designer's paradise, with many fashion exhibitions—a place designers aspired to visit.
I glanced at Ethan ahead of us and quickly declined: "No thanks, Marcus. I have other plans."
Ethan and I had just gotten married. Being alone with another man would surely invite gossip.
...
Noah collected the tickets and distributed them to everyone, finally coming to me.
"Thank you, Mrs. Westwood!" His mischievous eyes drew close. "Thanks to you, I get to experience first class in my lifetime!"
"?" I took the ticket, somewhat confused.
"Ethan changed all our economy seats to first class so he could sit with you."
"..." I couldn't help but look at Ethan.
He was wearing headphones, on a call, looking stern and wooden-faced.
Everything went smoothly. As Noah had said, my seat was next to Ethan's.
The others were seated at the front.
"Uncomfortable?" Ethan asked.
"No," I smiled lightly.
This man hadn't spoken to me all evening since I'd complimented his looks.
"Are you angry?" I couldn't help but ask.
"No."
"Then why aren't you talking?"
"Don't know what to say." Ethan glanced at my slightly swollen lips and quickly looked away.
I chuckled, not noticing his gaze.
"Is there anywhere you'd like to go?" Ethan asked.
"I'm fine with anything," I replied.
Did he mean we would be going out together?
"Isn't Mom in Paris? Would you like to visit her?" Ethan looked seriously at my expression.
I was stunned. "How did you know my mom was there?"
"You're my wife. Of course I know."
The word "wife" sent a warm tingle through my body. I felt like I was on fire, my whole being as if drunk, my face flushed.
I touched my burning cheeks, too embarrassed to look at him, and turned to the window instead.
So there was a reason for coming early. He was playing such a deep game.
"If it's inconvenient, that's fine too. I can arrange it better next time," he said, noticing my nervousness.
"It's convenient. Sophia likes lively gatherings. We can visit anytime," I replied.
Hearing my answer, Ethan leaned back in his seat, satisfied, and closed his eyes to rest.
My heart was in chaos.
Here's the English translation of your novel chapters, with careful attention to localization and natural English expression:
# Chapter 21: Sharing a Room
After sleeping for a few hours on the plane, we arrived in Paris at four in the afternoon.
We quickly changed into warmer clothes at the airport before heading to the hotel.
"Mr. Westwood, your key card," Claire said, distributing cards to everyone in the luxurious hotel lobby.
"Marcus, you'll be sharing with Noah."
Finally, she turned to me: "Alia, you'll be with me."
I glanced discreetly at Ethan, feeling relieved.
"Okay."
We were all assigned to different floors with different room layouts.
Ethan remained in the lobby, on the phone handling some business, while everyone else headed upstairs.
I hurriedly followed Claire into the elevator.
When we reached our room, I was surprised to find it wasn't a twin room but a super-luxurious king suite.
How extravagant!
Exhausted, I dropped my luggage and collapsed onto the sofa, starting to drift off.
"Mrs. Westwood, I've unpacked your suitcase. Please let me know if you need anything else," Claire said, organizing my things in the closet.
Her own suitcase remained untouched.
"Oh? No need, I can do it myself. Please, take care of your own things," I said, quickly sitting up.
I still wasn't used to being called "Mrs. Westwood"—it felt strange somehow.
She had already finished arranging my things.
Well, okay then...
Just then, the doorbell rang.
Claire hurried to answer it.
I sighed, lying face down on the sofa with my back to the door.
Had Ethan hired this female secretary specifically for me?
I felt like a helpless pawn being moved around, lost in my thoughts.
The conversation at the door had stopped, replaced by the sound of footsteps and the rolling of a suitcase.
"Tired?" Ethan's voice.
"?"
My eyes, which had just begun to close, snapped open as I turned to look behind me.
Claire had vanished, replaced by Ethan.
"..."
I sat up straight, clutching a pillow, my face a picture of bewilderment. Three words flashed through my mind:
'I'm doomed—'
Ethan didn't explain my reaction, simply proceeding to unpack his luggage and place his clothes in the closet as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
So Claire was just a decoy. This confirmed my suspicion that she was hired by Ethan specifically to 'facilitate' situations like this.
Damn, my momentary relief had evaporated.
"If you're tired, rest in the bedroom. We'll go out for dinner in two hours."
He sat down beside me on the sofa, opened his laptop, put on his Bluetooth earpiece, and began working.
"Oh." I felt uncomfortable, afraid to go to the bedroom in case he followed—that would be even more awkward.
I recalled his state yesterday morning, when he had said, 'I... want...'
"I'm not tired." I picked up my phone, pretending to be busy, and sent a message to Sophia.
[Sophia, I'm bringing your new son-in-law over for dinner tomorrow.]
[You're in Paris?]
[Yes!]
[Video call] Sophia was calling.
"..." I quickly declined the call.
Ethan raised an eyebrow, looking at me.
I bit my lip, worried I'd disturbed him. Knowing he wasn't talkative, I casually explained, "My mother calling."
His expression shifted slightly as his long fingers adjusted his earpiece. "Meeting postponed for ten minutes."
He removed his earpiece and set his laptop aside.
"You were in a meeting?!" I was surprised—how could he conduct meetings so quietly?
"Yes." He stood and walked toward me. An invisible pressure accompanied him as he sat down beside me, his warmth suddenly enveloping me.
I had nowhere to retreat, already pressed against the armrest.
So, why had he come over?
[Video call] Sophia was persistent with her video calls.
I swallowed hard, my eyelashes fluttering as I debated whether to answer, aware that Ethan was watching me.
This was suicide! My social anxiety was completely suppressed by his presence.
With slightly trembling hands, I picked up the phone and swiped the green button to answer.
The three of us appeared on the small screen.
"Ethan! It really is you!" Sophia sat in her garden sipping tea, carefully studying the golden couple on her screen.
From the video, I realized that in the small frame, Ethan had moved closer to me—so close I could feel his warm face next to my ear.
"Mom," Ethan said.
"Elizabeth told me yesterday that you married Alia, and it finally clicked! No wonder your photo looked so familiar! When did you two get together? Why wasn't there any hint of this?"
Sophia left no room for evasion, firing off several questions at once. I didn't know which to answer first.
"Sophia, we'll explain everything properly another time, okay?" I said.
Ethan smiled secretly.
"What time are you coming over tomorrow? According to your location, you should be about half an hour away," Sophia continued, oblivious to my embarrassment.
"Mom, we'll come after we wake up. We'll call you beforehand," Ethan said, glancing at me.
"Oh!" Sophia caught his meaning immediately.
"Mom, we just got off the plane," I quickly added.
Sophia took the hint and said, "We'll talk tomorrow! Get some rest now!"
[Click—]
I quickly put my phone away, relieved.
But wait—when had his arm slipped around my waist? And so naturally too.
"You go ahead with your meeting. I'll rest in the bedroom," I said, pointing to the room.
"Okay."
I grabbed a cushion and placed it over the visible bulge between his legs before hurrying away.
Ethan looked at the empty space, then at the cushion, his lips curling into a smile.
"Click." The bedroom door closed, with the faint sound of a lock turning.
I paced around the room, covering my face with my hands.
"Form is emptiness, emptiness is form..."
[Buzz—]
My good friend Emma, who lived in Paris, was calling.
[Emma...]
I glanced anxiously at the door, afraid Ethan might hear me from the living room, and walked to the balcony.
[Alia, I heard you're back? With that CEO you suddenly married?] Emma's voice was full of curiosity.
[Yes, I was just thinking of calling you!]
I leaned against the balcony railing, watching the light snowfall, reaching out to catch the delicate flakes.
[What's wrong? Newlywed troubles already?]
I found it difficult to articulate, remaining silent for a moment.
[Is it about sex?] As expected, the experienced Emma understood immediately.
[Are you reading my mind?]
[Please, what else would newlyweds have issues with?! This isn't even a problem—it's a gift! From the photo you sent me, he looks like he'd be amazing in bed. Don't tell me you two haven't had a second round yet?]
[Come on, the first time nearly killed me! I felt like I was breaking. How could I dare try again?]
My face flushed as I said this into the phone, suddenly feeling incredibly vulgar.
I sighed softly: [I couldn't walk properly for three days...]
[You're overthinking it. The second time won't hurt...]
As I listened to Emma while pacing on the balcony, I suddenly stopped in my tracks.
Our conversation abruptly ceased.
[Hello? Are you listening, Alia? Hello? Bad signal? That can't be right...] Emma wondered if her phone was malfunctioning.
What no one could have anticipated was that Ethan was standing on the living room balcony, hands in the pockets of his black coat, his dark eyes fixed intently on me.
The light snow made it impossible to read his expression—I hoped he couldn't read mine either.
I slowly lowered the phone from my ear.
Is there any sand around here? I'd like to bury my head...
Which idiot designed this suite?! How could the bedroom and living room balconies be connected?!
I stood frozen.
When had he come out there?
What had he heard?
I bit my lip and mechanically turned around, pretending nothing had happened as I walked back into the bedroom.
Ahhh!!!!
For a moment, I wished I could just die on the spot—
I don't remember hanging up, but I quickly texted Emma.
[He overheard our conversation. What should I do?]
[Just kiss him. No explanation needed.]
Would that work? Just kiss him and everything else would be forgotten?
I swallowed hard, inappropriate images flooding my mind.
