Cold Love Interests
The Tattooed Muscle Man Next Door
The year my parents died in an accident, I was a sophomore in high school.
My relatives had their eyes on the inheritance and compensation money they left behind, and they kept coming by to harass me.
Finally, I knocked on the door of my Tattooed Neighbor.
“Hey, are you in the underworld?”
Tug His Tie, Tempt His Composure
Fu Shiyu, the crown prince of Beijing’s elite circles, was famously untouchable.
I worked as his chief interpreter for three years.
He still never managed to remember my full name.
Until the day I “ran into” him at the gallery he often visited, my fingertip brushing over his Adam’s apple.
“CEO Fu, your tie is crooked.”
He pinned me against the floor-to-ceiling window and bit my earlobe.
“Who are you calling CEO Fu?
“Say that again. I dare you.”
What to Do If My Husband Loses His Memory on Our Divorce Day?
The man who had been sleeping in a separate room from me for the past six months was standing there with a pillow in his arms when I blocked him at the top of the stairs.
“The two of us together aren’t even fifty yet. We’re at the age when we should be all over each other. Is sleeping in separate rooms normal?”
He frowned at me, staring so hard that cold sweat prickled down my spine.
At last, he nodded. “Mm. It isn’t very normal.” Emboldened, I snatched the pillow out of his arms and grumbled, “You never used to be like this.”
“What did I use to be like?”
“You used to hold me every night when we slept, and before bed you’d call me your little baby.”
“…Did I?”
“You did!”
Look at me. Do these look like the eyes of a liar?
