Owned by Mr. Lan

Chapter 13

Wang Yibo

The last 2 days have been horrible.

She won’t look at me. She won’t speak to me. She kissed me goodnight but they were emotionless and meaningless and I found myself hurt by them. I miss her playfulness, her anger and her lust. Anything is better than the cold shoulder she’s been giving me.

When Haikuan stops in front of the library, Xiao Zhan doesn’t even wait for the SUV to stop before climbing out of the car, throwing her backpack over her shoulder and walking to the entrance to meet her friends for the study session.

I sigh and start to get out but Haikuan stops me. “She’s very strong but you’ll need to soften a bit if you want this to work.”

“I can’t.” I hang my head, watching her vanish into the library without even looking back at me to see if I’m following. “I can’t afford to be soft.”

“If you don’t try, even a little, she’ll resent you. I don’t know what happened, but tensions are high enough; we don’t need it high at home too. Fix it, Yibo. We need her. She’s the reason Xue Yang is alive.”

“I don’t know how to apologize for what I did.” I rub my temples when my head begins to pound. “I was an asshat. Her words, not mine.”

He chuckles and pats my leg in reassurance.

“I called her a prostitute. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but I was…” I don’t know how to explain it and I wave my hand in a circle over my chest. “I was feeling things.”

“Ah.” He says, nodding. “Things. They get us every time.”

“I pushed her away. It’s what I do. It’s what needs to be done in this line of work. If she ever dies, I can’t waste time grieving.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. You’d get revenge. You’ll kill anyone that hurt her. It’s okay to admit you feel something for her. It’s obvious you already do.”

I step out of the car and try not to be bothered by his honesty, but I am.

“Remember,” he adds. “Soft.”

Soft.

What the fuck do I know about soft? I kill people, torture, trade weapons, and sell drugs. I’m not a good man. What the hell do I know about being soft?

I slam the door shut and Haikuan drives away leaving me in front of a college library. What the fuck am I doing here? I build places like this. Hell, there are probably college kids here who buy drugs from the runners I have in the city.

I remember being a low-level runner, being the one doing the shady deals and following orders to work my way to the top.

Well, I did.
I killed my way to the top.

My father didn’t treat his men with the same respect as I give mine. I don’t kick my men when they’re down and I pay them fairly. Some have families they have to support and I know this isn’t an easy world to live in. Making good money makes it a little easier.

With confident strides, I make my way to the front door. The breeze picks up and a leaf hits me on the shoulder. I watch it fly away, getting carried through the wind, a promise of a storm swirling above me in the sky. Not even that leaf will have peace. Soon enough, it will be soggy and worthless, stuck on the ground and stepped on or in a gutter somewhere.

Because that’s life if you don’t know how to survive it — you’ll be caught in a storm and you’ll drown if you’re not careful.

I survey my surroundings, noticing a café to the right and the smell of freshly brewed coffee captures my attention.