Chapter 14

From Orm's Perspective 🤍🩺

The moment I stepped out of the Lotus Tower, I immediately noticed the black Mercedes waiting at the curb. The bodyguard assigned to me—tall, sharp-eyed, and eerily silent—opened the door without a word.

I sighed, knowing there was no way around this. Lingling had been adamant, and truthfully, after last night, I wasn't sure how much of it was paranoia and how much was justified caution.

Sliding into the car, I sank into the leather seat and exhaled. My cheek still stung from the shallow cut, a reminder of just how close I'd come to something much worse.

The city passed in a blur outside the tinted windows. My mind drifted to my car, still wrecked from last night. I needed to get a new one—something fast, something sturdy. Maybe something with bulletproof windows.

I huffed at the thought. Was I seriously considering this? A month ago, I was just a doctor running a small clinic, worried about my debts. Now, I was being driven around in a mafia-guarded car, wearing Lingling Kwong's clothes, and thinking about armored vehicles like it was a normal part of my life.

I glanced down at myself. The sweatpants were tight but comfortable, and her shirt still faintly smelled like her—cologne, gunpowder, and something uniquely Lingling. It was both comforting and dangerous at the same time.

By the time we pulled up at the clinic, I had shaken off most of my thoughts. The bodyguard stepped out first, scanning the area before nodding at me to follow.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm just going to work, not walking into a warzone."

He didn't react, just followed me inside.

Once in my office, I shut the door and leaned against it, letting out a long breath. The sight of my clean white coat hanging on the rack reminded me of who I was—or at least, who I used to be.

I quickly changed into something more professional, swapping Lingling's clothes for my usual attire. As I buttoned up my blouse, I hesitated. My reflection in the small mirror by my desk looked the same, but I didn't feel like the same person.

Lingling was changing me.

And the scariest part?

I wasn't sure if I wanted to stop it.

As soon as I stepped out of my office, I saw my nurse-Priya's- eyes widen.

"Doctor Kornnaphat—your cheek! What happened?" she asked, concern laced in her voice.

I instinctively touched the bandage Lingling had carefully placed on me last night. "Oh, this?" I forced a light chuckle. "I scratched myself by accident. My nail caught my skin."

Priya narrowed her eyes slightly, clearly not buying it, but she didn't press further. Instead, she sighed and handed me the tablet with today's patient schedule. "You have an operation in about an hour. A pretty complicated one."

That immediately pulled me back into my role as a doctor. "What's the case?" I asked, scanning the details.

"Male, 42 years old. He was in a severe motorcycle accident. He has multiple fractures, internal bleeding, and a ruptured spleen. He's been stabilized, but his spleen needs to be removed, and his left femur has a complex fracture that will require fixation."

I nodded as I processed the information. "How's his vitals?"

"Stable, but he lost a lot of blood. We have transfusions ready, and his BP is being monitored closely."

I took a deep breath. "Alright. Prep the OR, and I'll scrub in soon."

Priya gave me a firm nod and rushed off.

...

The patient was already under anesthesia when I stepped into the operating room, fully scrubbed in. The beeping of the monitors filled the sterile space as my team gathered around.

"Let's begin," I instructed, taking my position at the operating table.

I made the first incision along his abdomen, carefully cutting through the layers of tissue. Blood pooled almost immediately. His ruptured spleen was worse than I expected.

"Suction," I ordered, and one of the nurses quickly complied, clearing the blood to give me a better view.

The spleen was completely unsalvageable. I carefully clamped the splenic artery, cutting off blood flow before removing the damaged organ. "Spleen is out. Let's control the bleeding and close up the cavity."

The next step was his femur. The X-rays had shown multiple breaks along the shaft, meaning I had to insert a titanium rod to stabilize it. The orthopedic surgeon assisted as I aligned the bone fragments and secured the rod in place with screws. It was a delicate, time-consuming process, but in the end, it went smoothly.

"Internal fixation complete," I announced.

After ensuring everything was secure and there were no complications, I started closing up the incisions.

"Good work, everyone." I let out a deep breath as I finally stepped back. The patient was stable, the surgery successful.

After the surgery, I stepped out of the OR, pulling off my gloves and mask. The rush of adrenaline that had kept me going during the operation was fading, replaced by exhaustion. I rubbed my eyes, careful to avoid the bandage on my cheek.

Priya was waiting for me outside. "The surgery went well?" she asked, handing me a bottle of water.

I nodded, taking a sip. "Yeah, no complications. He's stable now. Keep monitoring his vitals, but he should be okay."

Priya gave me a relieved smile before glancing at my cheek again. "And what about you?"

I sighed. "Priya."

"I know, I know," she said, raising her hands. "You won't tell me anything. But I just worry, you know? You're a great doctor, but you never let anyone take care of you."

I didn't respond. Instead, I checked my watch. It was already past noon, and I still had more patients to see.

The day went by in a blur. I kept myself busy with consultations, check-ups, and paperwork, but my mind kept drifting back to her—to Lingling.

To the way her fingers had brushed against my skin this morning. To the warmth of her body against mine. To the way she had looked at me—like I was something fragile, something she couldn't afford to lose.

And now she was out there, handling things her way.

I shook my head, trying to push the thought away. Lingling was capable, more than anyone I'd ever met. But the idea of her getting blood on her hands because of me made my stomach twist.

By the time my shift was over, the sky had turned a deep shade of orange. I changed back into my casual clothes and grabbed my things, heading out of the clinic. The moment I stepped outside, I noticed the black Mercedes parked near the entrance.

Lingling's men.

Even though I had agreed to this earlier, a part of me still felt uneasy. I wasn't used to being protected. I wasn't used to needing protection.

One of the bodyguards stepped out of the car and opened the door for me. "Doctor Kornnaphat," he said politely. "Boss has instructed us to take you home."

I hesitated for a second before finally getting in.

As the car pulled away, I found myself staring out the window, watching the city lights blur past. I wondered if Lingling was okay. If she had finished whatever she had to do.

And more than anything, I wondered when I would see her again.

As the car moved through the city, I rested my head against the window, my fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of my sleeve. My mind drifted back to last night—to her.

The way Lingling kissed me.

It wasn't just a kiss—it was raw, consuming. A kiss that demanded everything from me and gave just as much in return. I could still feel the heat of her lips, the way she had kissed me with such hunger, like she was pouring every emotion she couldn't say into me.

The way her hands had gripped me, as if she was terrified I would slip away.

And the way I had melted into her, letting myself get lost in her.

My heart beat a little faster at the memory.

Lingling was good at it—too good. It was like she knew exactly how to take my breath away, how to make my entire body react to just a simple touch. But it wasn't just about skill. There was something more behind her kiss. A depth. A desperation.

And maybe that's what scared me the most.

Because I wasn't sure if I had ever been kissed like that before.

Not with that kind of intensity.

Not with that kind of need.

I exhaled slowly, pressing a hand to my chest, as if that would help steady my heartbeat.

Lingling was dangerous in more ways than one.

And yet, I couldn't stay away.

I finally stepped into my apartment, exhaling as I locked the door behind me. The familiar scent of lavender from my diffuser greeted me, offering a sense of comfort I desperately needed.

I shrugged off my coat and kicked off my shoes, heading straight to the sink. Washing my hands was almost second nature at this point, scrubbing away the weight of the day. The warm water ran over my skin, and for a moment, I just stood there, staring at my reflection in the kitchen window.

The bandage on my cheek was a stark reminder of how close I had come to—No. I didn't want to think about it.

I changed into my usual at-home attire—loose sweatpants and a soft, oversized hoodie. It felt good to be out of the clinic uniform, to just be Orm again, not Dr. Orm Kornnaphat.

Dinner was simple, something light because my appetite was still... off. Maybe it was the stress. Maybe it was Lingling.

Definitely Lingling.

By the time I finished eating, I grabbed my phone and called Becky.

"Orm?" She picked up almost immediately, her voice a mix of surprise and concern. "Did you just get off work?"

I hesitated before answering. "Yeah. But... a lot has happened."

Becky could probably hear the tension in my voice because she immediately asked, "What happened?"

I let out a dry laugh. "Well, let's see... I almost got killed last night. And then I made out with a mafia leader."

There was a silence, followed by a very loud, "WHAT?!"

I sighed, rubbing my forehead. "Yeah. That pretty much sums it up."

"Excuse me? Orm, what the hell do you mean you almost got killed? And—wait, WAIT. Back up. You KISSED Lingling? The Lingling?" Becky was in full interrogation mode now.

I leaned back on my couch, closing my eyes. "I was driving home after work, and someone messed with my car. I crashed into a pole. And then this guy—probably Lingling's rival—came out of nowhere with a knife."

Becky cursed under her breath. "Orm—"

"I'm fine," I reassured her quickly. "Just a small cut on my cheek. But I went to see Lingling after. I—I don't know, Becky. Everything just... happened."

I could practically hear her trying to process everything through the phone. "And then she—what? Just kissed you?"

"No, I kissed her."

There was a beat of silence before Becky groaned. "Oh my God. You are so screwed."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Becky... you don't understand. Lingling—she's dangerous, I know that. But last night? She didn't feel like the most feared woman in the country. She just felt like... Lingling."

Becky was quiet for a second before she scoffed. "Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Orm, don't you dare—"

"I'm serious," I cut in, my voice softer now. "She confessed everything to me. She told me how she gets butterflies when I touch her, how she melts whenever she looks into my eyes, how she's terrified of hurting me."

Becky let out a loud groan. "You're so fucked."

I ignored her and continued, "And then she kissed me. And Becky—she's a damn good kisser."

"STOP," Becky whined dramatically. "I do NOT need to hear how good the mafia queen is at making out."

I bit my lip, smiling to myself as I replayed the way Lingling's lips had moved against mine. The hunger, the desperation, the way her fingers curled into my hair, how she tasted like expensive liquor and danger. It had been intoxicating.

"She kissed me like she was pouring every single emotion into it," I admitted quietly. "Like she was giving me a part of herself no one else had ever seen."

Becky exhaled sharply. "Damn."

I nodded to myself, feeling my own heartbeat pick up at the memory. "Yeah. Damn. She also took her shirt off."

Becky choked on whatever she was drinking. "EXCUSE ME?"

I laughed, leaning back against my couch. "You heard me."

"No, no, back up. She took her shirt off?"

"Yes," I said, a little too dreamily. "And Becky, her body—" I sighed, shaking my head as if words couldn't do it justice. "She's so fit. Her abs, her arms... her chest."

Becky groaned. "Oh my God. You're killing me."

"I'm just saying," I teased. "She looked... breathtaking. But then I saw the scars."

That part sobered me up a little. Becky was silent, letting me continue.

"There were so many," I admitted, my voice softer now. "Old ones, new ones... some I recognized from when I treated her before. It just made me realize how much she's been through." I ran a hand through my hair, suddenly feeling overwhelmed again. "I don't even know half of what she's survived."

Becky sighed. "She's been in that world for too long, Orm. It's not just a few fights here and there. She's built from pain."

I nodded, even though Becky couldn't see me. "I kissed her chest," I confessed. "I wanted to kiss all of her scars. As if I could take away the pain just by doing that."

Becky was quiet for a second before she muttered, "Yeah. You're screwed."

I chuckled dryly. "I know."

Becky sighed dramatically. "So? What happens now? Are you two, like, a thing?"

I bit my lip, thinking about it. "I don't know," I admitted. "We didn't really put a label on it."

"But you kissed. She confessed. And you clearly can't stop thinking about her."

I groaned, covering my face with my hand. "It's complicated, Becky. She's... Lingling Kwong."

"She's also the woman you've been practically swooning over since the day you met her," Becky pointed out. "I mean, come on, Orm. What's really stopping you?"

I hesitated. "Her world," I finally said. "She's dangerous. She's always surrounded by enemies, threats. I got attacked yesterday just for being close to her. What if it happens again? What if next time I'm not so lucky?"

Becky was quiet for a moment. "Do you think she'd let anything happen to you?"

I thought about the way Lingling had looked at me last night—terrified, furious, protective. How she had held me so tightly, as if letting go even for a second would make me disappear.

"No," I admitted softly. "She wouldn't."

"Then maybe you should stop overthinking and just let yourself be happy for once."

I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. "It's not that easy."

"Nothing ever is," Becky said, and I could hear the smirk in her voice. "But I think you already know what you want, Orm. You're just scared to admit it."

I didn't respond, but deep down, I knew she was right.

I wanted Lingling.

But was I ready for everything that came with her?

...

After saying good bye's to Becky, I sighed, running a hand over my face as I curled up on the couch, staring at the ceiling. My mind was a mess—torn between the reality of Lingling's world and the way she made me feel.

She wasn't just a powerful mafia leader in those moments with me. She was Lingling—soft, teasing, protective. The way she had looked at me that night at the beach, with curiosity and something deeper in her eyes, replayed in my mind.

'I find you interesting, doctor,' she had said, her voice almost amused, but there was something raw beneath it.

I remembered the way the ocean breeze had tousled her dark hair, how the neon glow of the food stall lights made her sharp features seem softer. She had watched me so intently that night, as if trying to memorize me.

I closed my eyes, trying to push away the warmth that spread through my chest at the memory.

Was that the real Lingling? The one who looked at me like I was the only person in the world? The one who held me so tightly last night, as if she was scared to lose me?

Or was I just fooling myself into thinking she was different with me?

I exhaled sharply and rolled onto my side, hugging a pillow.

Becky was right—I already knew what I wanted.

I just wasn't sure if I was ready to risk everything for it.

I lay there for what felt like hours, staring at the dimly lit ceiling, my thoughts circling like vultures. No matter how much I tried to convince myself to be logical, my heart kept pulling me back to her.

Lingling was dangerous. Everything about her world was a direct contradiction to mine. I was a doctor—I saved lives. She... she ended them when necessary. And yet, when she held me, when she whispered her fears against my skin, I didn't feel afraid.

I felt safe.

I groaned, rolling onto my back again. "What the hell am I doing?" I muttered to myself.

Before I could spiral any further, my phone buzzed on the coffee table. I grabbed it quickly, half-expecting Becky, but my breath caught when I saw the name flashing on the screen.

'Lingling Kwong.'

My fingers hesitated over the screen before I finally accepted the call.

"Hey," I said, my voice softer than I expected.

There was a short pause on the other end. Then, her voice, lower than usual.

"Are you home?"

I swallowed. "Yeah. Just... laying around."

Another pause. Then, a quiet sigh. "Good. I was about to send someone to check."

I smiled a little despite myself. "You really don't have to put bodyguards on me, you know."

"I do," she said, voice firm. Then, softer, "I almost lost you yesterday, Orm."

Her words sent a shiver down my spine.

She wasn't just talking about the attack. She was talking about me leaving. Pushing her away.

I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. "Lingling..."

"Don't say it." Her voice was almost pleading. "Just... let me have this. Let me know you're safe."

I closed my eyes. It was dangerous, this thing between us. But for now, just for tonight, I let myself whisper,

"Okay."

There was a silence between us, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was heavy—charged with words we weren't saying, emotions we were both still trying to understand.

"Did you eat?" Lingling finally asked, her voice softer now.

I smiled faintly, shifting on the couch. "Yeah. Made myself something quick after work."

"Good," she murmured. "You should rest early. You had a long day."

I almost laughed. Lingling Kwong, THE mafia leader, telling me to rest. But there was something so genuine in her voice that I didn't tease her for it.

Instead, I let my fingers trace the bandage on my cheek absentmindedly. "Lingling..." I hesitated, unsure if I should ask.

"Hmm?"

I bit my lip before finally saying, "What happened to that man?"

There was a pause. A shift in her breathing.

"You don't need to know that, Orm." Her voice was calm, but I could hear the edge beneath it.

I sighed, leaning back into the couch. "You know I can't pretend not to care."

"Then care about yourself first," she said firmly. "I'll handle the rest."

That was the problem. The deeper I got into Lingling's world, the more I realized just how much she was willing to do for me—how much she already had. It scared me. Not because I doubted her, but because I wasn't sure how far I was willing to let her go.

Another silence stretched between us, and this time, Lingling was the first to break it.

"Orm."

"Hmm?"

"I don't regret it."

My breath caught. "...Regret what?"

"Last night. Kissing you. Holding you." A pause. Then, softer, "Loving you."

I closed my eyes, my chest tightening. "Lingling..."

"I know you need time," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "And I'll wait. But don't push me away, okay?"

My heart ached at the vulnerability in her tone. I wasn't used to hearing Lingling like this—unguarded, stripped of the armor she wore around everyone else.

I exhaled, gripping the phone a little tighter. "I won't."

Lingling let out a small breath, almost in relief.

"Good."

Neither of us hung up. We just stayed on the line, listening to each other's breathing, as if neither of us wanted to be the first to let go.

The silence between us wasn't empty—it was filled with something unspoken yet understood. Lingling didn't need to say more, and I didn't need to ask. Just knowing she was still on the other end of the line, breathing steadily, was enough.

I shifted, curling up further into the couch. "Are you at Éclipse?"

"Mhm." A small pause. "Meetings are done, but I have a few things to handle before heading back."

I bit my lip, hesitating before I asked, "Will you come home late?"

Lingling exhaled softly, almost as if she was smiling. "Come home, huh?"

I froze, realizing what I had just said. Heat crept up my neck. "I didn't mean—"

"No, I like it." Lingling's voice was quiet but firm. "I like the way it sounds coming from you."

I swallowed, my fingers tightening around the phone. My mind flashed back to last night—to the way she had held me so protectively, as if she was afraid I would disappear. The way she had kissed me, pouring all of her emotions into it.

"I—"

"Orm." Her voice was softer now. "Go rest, okay? I'll see you soon."

I wanted to argue. I wanted to ask her to stay on the phone a little longer. But I knew she had things to deal with—things I wasn't ready to know about.

So instead, I just whispered, "Okay. Be safe."

"Always."

The call ended, and I was left staring at my phone, feeling emptier than I should have.

...

The morning passed in a blur of routine—checking in on patients, ensuring the post-op recovery of the woman I had operated on the day before, and handling an endless stream of paperwork between appointments. Work kept my mind occupied, but there was an underlying hum of something else beneath the surface. Something that started with L and ended with ingling.

I hated to admit it, but I was waiting. Waiting for something from her—a message, a call, anything to remind me that last night wasn't a dream.

I sighed and sat down in my office, finally taking a break. My lunch—a simple chicken salad—was untouched on my desk. As I picked up my fork, my phone vibrated.

Lingling Kwong

Lingling KwongAre you free tonight?I want to take you out.I want you to meet my friends.

I stared at the message for a moment, my heart doing something it really shouldn't be doing.

Her friends?

This was different. This wasn't just Lingling teasing or pulling me into her world without explanation. This was her intentionally wanting to introduce me to the people she trusted.

That meant something.

I took a slow breath and typed back

MeAre you sure about this?

Lingling KwongWould I ask if I wasn't?

MeWhere and when?

Lingling KwongI'll pick you up at 7Dress nice, Doctor.

I rolled my eyes, but the warmth in my chest was undeniable.

For the first time all day, my lunch actually looked appetizing.

...

The rest of my workday passed in a steady rhythm of patient consultations and finalizing reports. But no matter how much I tried to focus, there was an underlying current of anticipation running through me. Every time I checked the clock, I found myself calculating how much time I had left before the evening.

By the time five o'clock rolled around, I was more than ready to leave. Lingling's driver was already waiting outside the clinic when I stepped out. The black Mercedes with tinted windows stood out, and I could still feel the quiet presence of the bodyguards lurking nearby, just as Lingling had promised.

I sighed as I slid into the backseat, closing my eyes for a moment. It was still strange to have so much protection around me. But after last night, I understood why Lingling insisted.

The drive home was smooth and silent. When I arrived at my apartment, I wasted no time.

I took a long, hot shower, letting the steam relax my muscles, before standing in front of my closet. If Lingling wanted me to dress nice, I would make sure she regretted asking.

I pulled out a sleek, form-fitting dress—the kind that hugged my curves in all the right places. The fabric was smooth against my skin, the neckline just revealing enough to be enticing without overdoing it. I paired it with heels, letting my hair fall naturally in soft waves. A touch of red lipstick completed the look.

As I examined myself in the mirror, I smirked.

Let's see if Lingling can keep her hands to herself tonight.

The moment my phone buzzed, I already knew who it was.

Lingling Kwong

Lingling KwongI'm downstairs.

A small smirk curled on my lips as I grabbed my clutch and took one last glance in the mirror. Perfect. I made my way out of my apartment, my heels clicking softly against the floor, my heart beating just a little too fast.

When the elevator doors slid open to the lobby, my breath hitched slightly.

Lingling stood there, leaning effortlessly against her sleek black G-Wagon, a cigarette balanced between her fingers. The faint ember flickered in the dim evening light, casting a soft glow on her sharp features. Her suit—jet black, perfectly tailored—was paired with a crisp white shirt and a neatly knotted tie, the polished elegance only adding to her commanding presence. She looked like she had just stepped out of a high-class mafia film, every inch the dangerous woman she was rumored to be.

My stomach did a ridiculous little flip.

Lingling turned her head slightly at the sound of my footsteps, her dark eyes dragging over me from head to toe.

She took one last drag of her cigarette before tossing it onto the pavement and crushing it under her heel. Then, with that slow, confident smirk, she pushed off the car and opened the passenger door for me.

"You're trying to kill me, aren't you?" she murmured, her voice lower than usual as her gaze lingered on the curve of my dress.

I raised an eyebrow, pretending to be oblivious. "Whatever do you mean?"

Lingling chuckled under her breath, shaking her head as she gestured toward the car. "Get in, before I decide we're skipping dinner."

I slid into the seat, feeling the warmth of her presence as she closed the door behind me.

This night was going to be interesting.

Lingling slid into the driver's seat, her fingers gripping the steering wheel with effortless confidence. As the G-Wagon purred to life, she glanced at me from the corner of her eye, a smirk still lingering on her lips.

"You look beautiful," she said, her voice smooth but carrying a hint of something deeper—something unspoken.

I pretended to adjust my dress, but really, I was just trying to compose myself. "You don't look too bad yourself," I replied, my voice lighter than I felt.

She chuckled and pulled out onto the street, her hand resting casually on the gear shift. The city lights passed us in a blur, the soft hum of the engine filling the air between us.

"So," I started, watching her from the side. "Where are we going?"

Lingling smirked but didn't take her eyes off the road. "Somewhere fun."

I raised an eyebrow. "That's not an answer."

She turned to glance at me, and for a moment, something playful flickered in her gaze. "You'll see."

The way she said it sent a strange thrill down my spine.

Minutes passed, and I watched as the city started to fade behind us. The streets grew quieter, more exclusive. I recognized this area—high-end lounges, underground clubs. Places only those with the right connections could enter.

Lingling pulled into a private parking lot, and before I could even process where we were, she was already opening my door for me. The moment I stepped out, I heard the muffled bass of music vibrating through the pavement.

"Come on," she said, offering me her hand. "I want you to meet my people."

Her people.

I swallowed, looking up at her, then down at her hand.

A small voice in my head told me this was a dangerous world I was stepping into. But the way Lingling was looking at me, like she wanted me right there beside her, made me push that thought aside.

I took her hand.

"Lead the way."

Lingling smirked, her fingers lacing briefly with mine before she led me through an unmarked entrance beside the main club. The heavy door opened into a dimly lit corridor, the low thrum of music growing louder with each step. The scent of expensive cologne, cigars, and something distinctly dangerous lingered in the air.

A man in a fitted black suit stood at the end of the hallway, his sharp eyes locking onto Lingling before nodding and stepping aside.

"Boss," he greeted her with respect.

Boss.

I had seen glimpses of this side of Lingling, but hearing her being addressed like that in her world—where she was powerful, untouchable—sent a strange shiver down my spine.

Lingling didn't acknowledge him beyond a glance, keeping her grip on my wrist as we entered a VIP lounge bathed in a moody red glow.

The atmosphere shifted immediately.

The people in the room were different from the ones in the main club—these weren't just rich socialites. These were Lingling's people. Men and women with sharp eyes, expensive suits, and the kind of aura that told you they had power. Real power.

A few heads turned when Lingling stepped in, their conversation lowering slightly.

I felt their eyes flick to me.

"Lingling," a deep voice called out from one of the leather couches. A man with slicked-back hair and a glass of whiskey in hand smirked at her. "You brought a guest?"

Lingling's grip on me tightened slightly before she let go and took a seat across from him.

"She's mine," Lingling said simply, her voice holding an edge of possessiveness that made my stomach twist.

I was used to being admired, flirted with—but never claimed like that.

The man raised an eyebrow and looked at me, clearly interested, but not in an inappropriate way. More like he was curious about why someone like me was with someone like Lingling.

"You must be Orm," he said, gesturing for me to sit. "I've heard a lot about you."

I hesitated before sitting beside Lingling, feeling her arm rest along the back of the couch, her fingers just barely grazing my shoulder.

"Oh?" I tilted my head. "Good things, I hope."

The man chuckled and sipped his whiskey. "She doesn't talk about people unless they mean something to her."

I glanced at Lingling, but she was unreadable, her face composed as she picked up a glass of wine from the table.

"Orm's special," she finally said, not looking at me but directing the words at the others in the room. "So I expect her to be treated that way."

The room was silent for a beat before the tension eased, conversations resuming, drinks being poured.

I wasn't sure if I had just been protected or marked.

Either way, there was no turning back now.

The man, whom I now knew as Rui, leaned back against the leather couch, his fingers lazily swirling the whiskey in his glass. His sharp, knowing eyes assessed me for a moment before he smirked.

"I have to say, Lingling, your taste is impeccable," Rui remarked, raising his glass slightly in my direction. "A beautiful doctor? That's new."

The woman sitting beside him let out a soft chuckle. She was stunning—sharp features, a sleek bob, and an air of confidence that matched Lingling's. She was dressed in an elegant yet understated outfit, her deep red lipstick adding to her effortless allure.

"I agree," she added, her voice smooth like silk. "You're quite the catch, Orm." She glanced at Lingling playfully. "I don't think I've ever seen her this... possessive."

Lingling shot her a look, but there was no real annoyance behind it.

"Don't be dramatic, Mei," Lingling muttered, taking a sip of her wine.

Rui and Mei exchanged amused glances, clearly entertained by Lingling's unusual behavior.

I smiled, deciding to play along. "Oh? So Lingling isn't usually the possessive type?" I teased, turning my gaze to Lingling, whose jaw twitched slightly as she placed her glass down.

"She's never brought anyone here before," Rui mused, resting his elbow on the armrest. "Not like this. Not as someone... important."

That word—important—hung in the air for a moment, my heart skipping a beat.

Lingling didn't deny it.

Instead, she reached for the food in front of her and began plating it with quiet focus. The gesture was subtle, but the way she casually placed a serving onto my plate before her own didn't go unnoticed.

"Eat," Lingling said simply, her tone softer than before.

I picked up my chopsticks, feeling Rui and Mei's lingering gazes. It was strange—sitting here with a mafia leader, a high-ranking businessman, and an elegant mystery of a woman—being observed like I was someone who belonged in this world.

"So, Orm," Mei started, her chin resting on her hand. "Tell me, how does it feel being adored by our Lingling?"

Lingling let out a small scoff, shaking her head at Mei's antics.

I swallowed a bite of food before glancing at Lingling, my lips curling slightly.

"It's... intense," I admitted. "Like standing in the eye of a storm."

Rui let out a laugh. "That sounds about right."

Lingling shot me a look, but there was something else in her expression—something softer, almost vulnerable.

I took another bite of my food, realizing something.

This was Lingling's world. And she had just let me into it.