To Love a Shadow, To Be the Sun novel Chapter 174

Elara nodded. "So many people kept handing me drinks. They wouldn't let me leave unless I had one. I thought, with all these people around and the drinks just sitting out, it wouldn't be a big deal."

Zane let out a short, dismissive laugh. "They might've seemed friendly, but any drink that made it to your hand was trouble, trust me."

He had a point, though Elara, feeling miserable, didn't care to hear it.

Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled against him.

Her lips were burning hot.

"Behave," he chided in a low voice, picking up the pace as he carried her back to the room.

Elara knew, at this point, there was no room for negotiation.

Her body wasn't just hot—it was as if thousands of ants were crawling beneath her skin, desperate for some kind of release.

She'd played it safe for twenty-six years, and still ended up with a scumbag husband.

So really, what was the point of being good?

"Zane!"

"Yeah?"

He smelled incredible.

Elara pressed her face into his neck and inhaled deeply.

"Let's cheat together," she whispered.

The words had barely left her lips when he set her down on the bed, not gently.

"You really are at that age for wild dreams," he muttered, feigning a chill detachment, his voice low and rough in her ear.

Elara didn't know where the sudden boldness came from, but she grabbed his tie and yanked him back just as he was about to stand.

"I don't want my first time to be with a nobody. Don't turn me down, okay?"

Zane braced himself with his hands on either side of her shoulders, keeping his weight off her with a tense, controlled effort.

She had no idea how tempting she looked right then—hair tousled and plastered to her damp neck, soft eyes glazed and shining with unshed tears, lips parted with a lingering hint of champagne on her breath.

A muscle twitched in Zane's jaw.

The bedside lamp cast a warm glow from behind, cloaking the surge of emotion in the shadow of his arm.

His uncle had always kept his distance from women. Ever since he found out at age eight that he had an arranged fiancée, he'd waited for her—pure as a monk. Even when the girl went missing for over a decade, he'd remained faithful.

But tonight, clear as day, there was a smudged lipstick mark on his neck.

"So, Uncle, is this your secret hideaway for a mistress?" Jason teased, his voice half-joking, half-incredulous.

Ryan, less able to hold back his curiosity, craned his neck to peer inside as he spoke.

Zane's expression darkened.

Jason quickly pointed to the lipstick stain.

That's when Zane remembered—Elara must have left it there when she nuzzled him earlier.

He forced his face into a stern mask, voice cold as steel. "Don't be ridiculous. It's just red ink—"

"Mmm~"

A soft, feminine moan drifted out from behind the door.

The room fell silent, every bit of air in it suddenly thick with implication.