Please Lend Me 50 Million - Chapter 4

Asha had no choice but to wonder whether her ears had broken. However much he dealt with all manner of people as a businessman, he had never once uttered something this vulgar directly to Asha’s face.

But the firm hand pressed to her shoulder and the green eyes looking down at her made it undeniably clear: this was real.

The hand pressing her shoulder down was so unyielding that Asha, still unable to shake the look of bewilderment from her face, had no choice but to settle her bottom back onto the carpet.

“I… Pardon?”

“Asha. Are you aware that under imperial law, transactions of ten million Rublangs or more must be accompanied by a detailed contract?”

“Pardon?”

Why were there so many things to be startled by today? Before she could even collect herself, the thunderbolts kept coming.

Would Asha have ever handled ten million Rublangs? The only people who moved money in units of ten million Rublangs were those long hardened by business, or magnates who had been born into extraordinary wealth.

Compared to them, Asha—a baby businesswoman peddling the equivalent of penny candy—was hearing this for the first time in her life.

“Oh, don’t make that face. It’s only natural you wouldn’t know.”

In his usual way, careful not to wound her pride, he spoke with a considerate word and smoothed a hand over her face—perfectly unchanged from always.

“And do you know this as well, Asha?”

The hand that had been stroking her cheek trailed down along her neckline and came to rest on her elaborate diamond necklace.

“If a contract is not drawn up at this juncture, the debtor can be brought to trial on charges of misappropriation of assets. It’s a most beneficial law—protecting creditors from extortion by threat or coercion.”

Harriet continued unhurriedly as he undid the necklace and released it. Next came the top buttons of the dress she had dressed so carefully in to make herself look good for him. The hands loosening the laces she had cinched so tightly to appear fuller were rough and relentless—almost violent enough to tear the dress apart. She had thought of him as a man who sat at a desk and held nothing but a pen, but the veins and muscle of his forearms visible through his open shirt were those of a threatening, thoroughly male body.

The released necklace fell to the carpet with casual indifference, its value entirely irrelevant to him. He had no fear of scratching it. With each movement of his hands, the pale skin characteristic of a northerner was revealed—a throat that stood in stark contrast to his own hands, sun-darkened and rich brown from his southern upbringing.

God, how desperately he had wanted to sink his teeth into that throat. He whispered with a thrill running through him.

“So, if I were to report this here and now, my lady would be brought to trial. I am the magnanimous husband who has overlooked seventeen business failures, and you are the noblewoman driven into a corner. Which side do you think the court would favor?”

At last, through his maneuvering, her b*****s lay completely bare. It was a sight ill-suited to a study in broad daylight. Asha seemed to realize this as well—cheeks flaming, she tried to cover her chest with her hands.

But there was no chance he would simply let that stand. Her small hands were seized by his thick ones before they could cover her full b*****s. With both her wrists firmly caught, her swollen b*****s and pink n*****s were laid entirely bare.

This was a humiliation she had never known. The dizzying rush of fury made her voice tremble on its own.

“Ha—Harriet. Why are you doing this to me—!”

His lips pressed down on her throat like he was marking his territory. They were hot lips—lips that matched the desire he harbored. As if savoring the Asha he had just undone, he drew a deep breath. The scent of freesia she always wore struck his nose. Common, off-the-shelf perfume as it was, it was an obscene and maddening smell that stirred something low and deep in his belly. His sharp nose trailed up along her neckline and chased the line of her jaw.

And then, lips still brushing roughly against her skin, he whispered close to her ear.

“You cannot know how long I have waited for this day.”

It was a murky, thick voice—as though releasing desire too long contained. He had suppressed it so thoroughly that his voice seemed to smolder like lava.

“The day I could at last defile you utterly with my hunger…”

“Harriet….”

It was then that Asha’s shame reached its peak. Drawing a sharp breath, she grabbed his cheek and yanked him toward her. Her grip was strong and uncompromising—even he had no choice but to follow. Scowling, she locked eyes with Harriet, and she looked thoroughly displeased.

“Stop with all this creeping innuendo and threats—just say what you mean plainly!”