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墨書 Inktalez
My body has not yet shown, but I know something has forever left me.
My baby, I can no longer feel it.
It is gone.
My heart aches like a knife, yet I cannot squeeze out a single tear; I can only bitterly pull at the corners of my mouth. I should have known this would be the outcome. Song Moting would not allow me to keep this child; even if it were born, he would not let me raise it.
I was too naive; I brought this upon myself.
I knew there were tigers in the mountains, yet I chose to walk toward them.
A swaying shadow appeared on the bed curtain, and the drapes were pulled aside to reveal the face I loathed with every fiber of my being.
Butler Lu approached with a tray, on which sat a bowl of dark brown liquid emitting a pungent odor.
Song Moting took it, gently shaking the bowl. The vast bedroom was silent, save for the sound of the liquid sloshing inside.
What is this?
A slap followed by a sweet date?
Or is one bowl of medicine not enough; do we need another?
The bowl was brought to my lips, and the foul, bitter smell hit me hard.
Memories surged like a tide, and I summoned my last ounce of strength, suddenly sweeping my hand to overturn the bowl of medicine.
Song Moting barely dodged in time, scalding liquid splashing onto his hand, staining even his expensive tailored suit.
"Miss, how could you..."
Butler Lu's words were cut short by a cold glare from Song Moting. He quickly fell silent, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe Song Moting’s hand.
I stared at the man who had imprisoned me in a gilded cage, my voice filled with pain and resentment.
"Song Moting, I hate you!"
"How can you stand there as if nothing happened?"
Cursing the master of Song Group with such rebellious words turned Butler Lu's face pale; he bowed his head and knelt down, pretending he hadn’t heard anything.
Song Moting clutched the stained handkerchief tightly, his gaze fixed on me with a chilling intensity.
I had no idea what schemes were brewing in his mind, weighing the pros and cons of his choices. Regardless, this cold-hearted man had made his decision. It was the choice most beneficial to the Song Family, preserving their family's reputation.
The air in the room was thick and suffocating. After a long silence, he spoke coldly, "You are well aware of your position. From now on, do not overstep your bounds."
He was a man of sharp edges, having led Song Group for years with ruthless decisiveness in the business world. His presence had grown increasingly restrained yet commanding. Those deep-set eyes were like black holes, and I saw my reflection within them—a disheveled socialite with hollow eyes.
I once was a glamorous queen of social gatherings. Jiang Jinqing.
May you always have a splendid youth and a heart full of beauty. What an ironic name.
I let out a cold laugh and retorted, "Song Moting, you are also very aware of your place. From now on, do not cross the line."
My words struck a nerve; I saw him tighten his grip on the pen in his hand before he turned and left the room.
I sank back into the luxurious bed once more. This presidential suite had been unoccupied for quite some time; despite the central air conditioning being on, a lingering stale scent hung in the air. I lay there, gazing through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the city skyline.
Fluffy clouds rushed by as the sun dipped low, its last golden rays disappearing behind the silhouettes of skyscrapers as night fell.
After a long while, the city's clamor gradually subsided, transforming this bustling metropolis into a beast lurking in the darkness, ready to devour hearts.
I shifted my numb body and softly asked the empty room.
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