The Devil's Favourite Obsession

The gates opened using an electric device, allowing the SUV to roll through slowly. The vehicle passed the great front yard and the long sweep that led to the castle entrance.

Cixi looked out through the window, remembering how the land had once looked like a serene sea of white during winter. Now, in summer, it had transformed into a lively patchwork of various colours, spreading warmth and the energy of life all around. And yet her heart felt restless.

The closer they drew to the Palace, the tighter her chest felt.

The SUV came to a stop near the Palace entrance, where more guards in suits stood guard.

Cixi drew in a slow breath and pushed the door open carefully. She stepped outside carefully, with one hand resting lightly beneath her false belly.

The driver came around quickly, opened the boot, and handed her the suitcase.

Before she could take more than two steps, one of the guards moved directly in front of her.

”May I know the purpose of your visit?”

Cixi adjusted her grip on the suitcase. ”I am here to meet Michael Crown and Emily Crown.”

”With your suitcase?” he asked her in a questionable tone. ”Were you invited here, ma’am?”

”I would rather speak to Michael Crown directly, if you do not mind.” She stepped aside to move ahead, but the guard stretched his arm out to stop her.

”Were you invited by any family members?” He rephrased his question.

Cixi kept her voice even. ”It is an urgent matter that I speak to Michael Crown. If you will not allow me, at least call him here.”

Listening to their conversation and sensing trouble, the SUV driver left the Palace at once. He did not want to get involved in rich people’s matters.

The guard did not move aside. Instead, he glanced at the other guard, who walked inside after a second had passed without saying a word, as if he understood some unspoken instruction or signal that was invisible to anyone else.

”I need to check your bag. Please open it for me.”

Those words sharpened her nerves, though she kept her expression steady. ”The guards at the front already checked the car with their machine. There were no deadly bombs in there unless you think I was a magician who, after the car was scanned, materialised weapons into my bag.”

That guard only stared at her, telling her to either open it or leave.

”Fine!”

Cixi bent down to set the suitcase on the ground, and she needed to act as if she were pregnant. She lowered herself, keeping her back straight, and bent one knee to place it on the ground, but before she could do it, the guard spoke.

”We will do it.”

Cixi’s head snapped towards him, and she threw him a sharp glare.

The other guard reached out, took the bag from her hand, laid it on the floor, and opened it.

”Be careful.”

The guard barely looked at her as he began inspecting the bag. Irritation once more flashed hotly through her. Yet even in the middle of her annoyance, she understood they were only doing their job. Still, that did not stop her from glaring.

Her fingers drifted protectively to the false curve of her stomach as she watched the guard go through her clothes and necessary items one by one.

When the guard was about to touch the set of lingerie, she opened her mouth to yell at him, but another car swept through the grounds and stopped right at the entrance.

A blue Lamborghini Temerario.

Cixi’s eyes shifted at once to the gorgeous car that belonged to someone rich, someone who clearly did not need to fake status the way she did.

The door opened first, and then came one long leg, then another, and finally the man himself unfolded from the driver’s seat, and he stood tall.

Not merely tall in the ordinary sense, but tall in the way some men seemed made to tower over a room without effort.

There was elegance in him, yes, but it was the unruly kind, the sort that looked as though he would never submit fully to tailoring or etiquette no matter how much money was poured over it.

His hair fell to his shoulders in light brown strands, faintly damp and lightly disordered. His face had sharp features with high cheekbones, a well-shaped nose, and a jawline too elegant to be called harsh, though there was no softness in it either.

His eyes were what struck first and held longest. They were light brown, pale and cold enough to carry an icy gleam beneath the morning light.

All the guards bowed at once. And she knew he must be a family member of the people who resided there.

He did not acknowledge the guards. Instead, he looked her over from head to toe while walking towards her.

He assessed her hair first, which was hidden beneath the scarf. Then his gaze moved to her face, which, despite the worry, still carried that young freshness people often remarked upon, like a flower that had only just bloomed. Then his eyes fell to the curve of her belly and stopped there.

”Is it mine?” he asked shamelessly. ”I do not remember you, though.”

Cixi’s jaw nearly unhinged in disbelief.

Who the hell was he to ask her directly if it was his? How many women did he sleep with? Men in the Crown family were always like this, flitting from one woman to another until finally settling down with just one.

”That only tells me one thing—we have clearly never met before, and you definitely lack basic manners,” she replied in her steady voice despite her rising anger.

Her mind raced as she tried to remember if she had seen him in any article on the web about the Crown family while searching for Cassian.

Light brown hair—cold light brown eyes—the more she examined his face, the more it resembled Tamara, and it clicked. Michael Crown’s third and Tamara’s second son—Rafael Crown.