"Ms. Vale, Dr. Langley has already returned to the country."
"As long as you pay the surgery fee in full, your boyfriend’s condition should be curable..."
Serena Vale stood at the gate of Nanhu Villa, the doctor’s words from that morning looping in her head again and again.
On the seventh of every month, she showed up here right on time. But this time... she figured it would probably be the last.
When Mrs. Anderson saw her, she naturally led her upstairs toward the bedroom on the second floor. "Ms. Vale, the bath is ready for you. If you need anything, just call me."
"Thank you, Mrs. Anderson." Serena nodded politely, then asked in a low voice, "How’s Mr. Crane’s mood today?"
"Sir is in the study. He should be in a pretty okay mood."
Only then did Serena quietly let out the breath she had been holding.
The moment she stepped into the bathroom, the scent of lavender essential oil drifted over her. The silky, revealing nightdress lay folded beside the tub, exactly where it always was. This was one of Maxwell Crane’s routines before they did anything.
Serena had always followed that man’s preferences to the letter. She took off her clothes and stepped into the bath.
By the time she finished and had only blow-dried half her hair, the door was pushed open.
The tall man walked in wearing a dark navy suit. His shirt collar was fastened neatly, not the slightest bit out of place. A pair of silver-rimmed glasses rested on the bridge of his sharp nose, making him look restrained, polished, almost too abstinent to be real.
There was a file in his hand. He set it casually on the coffee table, then lifted his eyes and looked at Serena.
The instant her gaze met those dark eyes of his, deep and still like a bottomless pool, her heart gave a weird little jolt. Even the hair dryer in her hand stopped.
"Come here."
He sat at the edge of the bed, staring at her openly, his gaze blunt and unhidden. His voice was as cold as ever, flat enough that no emotion could be read from it.
Serena was already used to the way he never showed anger or pleasure on his face. She walked over obediently.
He reached out and pulled her into his arms. His rough thumb slowly brushed against her waist, then his hand slid upward, cupping the back of her head as he kissed her.
"Mmh... my hair’s not dry yet..." She nudged him lightly with her elbow.
A man who was usually ridiculously particular actually didn’t care this time. In that same cool tone, he said, "First, we do this."
Once he spoke, Serena Vale didn’t dare push back. She went soft in his arms and let him take over.
Maxwell Crane was insanely good at kissing. It didn’t take long before Serena was completely out of her depth, dizzy and light-headed. By the time her brain finally caught up, she realized she was sitting on top of him.
They had never tried this position before.
Because she had never dared to.
If this was really the last night...
Serena gathered up all her courage, reached out, took off his glasses, then lowered herself and slowly undid the top buttons of his shirt...
It went on deep into the second half of the night. By the end, Serena was so worn out she sprawled on the bed, too drained to move even a finger. The spot beside her suddenly emptied—he had gone into the bathroom.
She took the chance to steady herself, quietly adjusting her breathing while rehearsing in her head how she was going to bring it up.
Back when she had climbed into Maxwell Crane’s bed, it had all been for Joel Briggs’s surgery money. Now, after tonight’s remaining hundred thousand, she would finally have enough.
A few minutes later, the sound of running water stopped. The man came out wrapped in a towel, wiping his wet hair with one hand. Beads of water slipped from his hair tips onto his firm chest, then trailed over the lines of his abs and down along the V of his waist, disappearing somewhere even lower.
A certain image flashed through Serena’s mind.
Her face burned red on the spot, and she quickly looked away.
Maxwell had no idea what was going through her head. He lifted his eyes and glanced at her, then crossed the room in a few long strides to the coffee table. He pulled a cigarette from the pack, lit it, and took a drag.
Through the curling smoke, Serena couldn’t clearly read his expression, but she guessed he was probably in a pretty good mood right now.
She curled her fingers slightly, hyping herself up in silence, then finally spoke with hesitation.
"Mr. Crane, there’s something I want to tell you..."
The man flicked the ash, looked at her, and said in an even, unreadable voice, "Funny timing. I’ve got something to tell you too."
