Adam looked up and saw a slender figure. Celine had arrived. His thin lips pressed into a line. "What are you doing here? Who let you in?"

Celine stepped into the living room, walking toward him.

"Leo!" Adam called out. "Leo, where's the person I asked you to arrange? Why isn't she here yet?"

No response. Celine remained silent.

Adam tugged at his shirt collar, his expression darkening. "Get out!"

Celine's long lashes fluttered. "Fine, I'll leave then." She turned and started to walk away.

However, before she could take another step, a strong hand grabbed her slender arm. His voice was low and filled with restrained anger.

"Celine!"

Celine turned, blinking up at him with a playful glint in her eyes. "What?"

Adam pulled her closer. His body burned, his skin hot as molten lava. The seductive scent had tormented him for hours; sheer willpower alone held him together. His eyes were red, and his resolve crumbled.

He dipped his face into her hair and kissed her. His large, heated hand slid beneath the hem of her shirt.

Celine shivered at his touch.

"You're trembling. Don't tell me you've never been with a man before," Adam said mockingly.

Celine met his gaze. In the depths of his dark, bloodshot eyes, she saw something primal, a raw, unguarded desire. He looked at her like a starved man, as if he'd stripped away all pretense and revealed his true self.

Did he think Celine's private life was a mess and that she'd slept with many men? Was that why he treated her this way?

Celine bit her lower lip and raised her hand to slap him. He caught her wrist in midair, shoving her onto the couch. His body pinned her. "Enough with the slapping. Try it again and see what happens." Celine was the only person who had ever dared to slap him.

"Let me go!" she demanded, squirming.

He released her wrist but immediately began unbuttoning her shirt.

"Adam, stop. I can help you," she blurted, her hand reaching for the silver needle she always carried. She aimed for an acupuncture point.

However, Adam was too quick. He swatted the needle from her hand. "What do you think you're doing?" The needle dropped, and Celine scrambled to retrieve it. "My needle!"

From above, Adam watched her pick up the needle. Her long, dark hair cascaded over her delicate arms. Her profile was flawless, her skin smooth and glowing. He studied her the way a man would look at a woman. Every man had preferences, but before Celine, he couldn't quite define his. Cerly had always been the apple of his eye, and everyone assumed he preferred women as striking as red roses. He used to believe that himself, until Celine appeared. He had seen many beautiful women, but none had held his gaze like she did.

He swiftly pulled his belt from his waist; the sharp sound sliced through the silence. In a single movement, he was on top of her again, his arms encircling her. He pressed his body against Celine's and whispered her name.

Her hand brushed against the silver needle, and just as her fingers closed around it, she felt the fabric of her shirt being pushed up. Celine froze. "Adam, don't!"

However, Adam was relentless. He pulled her back onto the couch, his lips crashing against hers in a fiery kiss. She struggled, but her protests were lost in the overwhelming intensity. In the chaos, a vase toppled, scattering debris everywhere.

Then, as if struck by lightning, Adam froze. He stared at her, his expression one of shock and disbelief. "She's still a virgin." He hadn't expected this. Celine bit hard into his shoulder, as if trying to tear a piece of him away.

Adam felt the pain. He had to force her away. Celine's gaze landed on the long scar across his chest, a scar he'd earned saving her life. However, that wasn't enough for her to forget his previous actions.

Celine's eyes were filled with tears as she glared at him. The hurt in her gaze cut deeper than any wound.

"I'm sorry. I was wrong," Adam apologized, his voice hoarse. He was wrong. Very wrong. She had never been with another man before. Adam had been her first. What he said was mean and unacceptable.

Celine refused his apology; she refused to look at him.

Grabbing her small hand, Adam slapped it against his face, hard. Celine was taken aback.

"Hit me. If once isn't enough, then twice, three times. I'm sorry!" He continued slapping himself, but Celine pulled her hand away.

His actions amused her. He lowered his head, his lips brushing hers again. "Celine, do you… still like me?" he asked, his voice low and hoarse.

What about him? Celine wondered if he liked her too. She recalled Leo's words as she looked at Adam. "Adam, what about…" Adam kissed her softly. "What?"

In the end, Celine chickened out. She dared not ask the question.

Adam held her hand tightly; his slender fingers intertwined with hers.

"Give it to me, Linny." It was the first time he'd called her that. His voice was tender and magnetic.

Celine's eyes fluttered open the next morning; she was still in his arms. They had fallen asleep on the couch, tangled together. Adam was still asleep, his arms around her shoulder. She shifted, her body sore and aching. They had crossed a line, becoming husband and wife.

Celine glanced at Adam's sleeping face and whispered the question that had been haunting her. "Adam, have you ever liked me? Even just a little?"