Caged by the Billionaire

The sky-blue cottage, matching the color of the nearby sea, tranquil and pure.

This is the high-end residential area of City A, where stretches of matching cottages, gardens, rooftop outdoor swimming pools, and garages are all arranged in an orderly fashion. Not far off, there's a swath of azure, where sea and sky blend, with the sea breeze gently blowing.

Under the scorching sun, a pink Yamaha races along the clean and tidy street, carrying a woman in a white dress, wearing a helmet, her waist-length shiny black hair lifted by the wind, complementing her billowing white dress, quite elegant.

In the bike basket lay a big bag of fresh seafood, vegetables, and fruits just bought from the supermarket, the wind blows the bag and can see what's inside it.

Speeding along, the Yamaha finally turned into a yard full of golden tulips. The woman stopped the bike, took off her helmet, grabbed the shopping bag from the basket, and walked toward the blue cottage.

Upon entering, she changed into slippers. The woman in white hadn't even managed to wipe the sweat from her forehead before hurriedly carrying the fruits and vegetables into the kitchen.

She efficiently washed, chopped, stewed, fried, and made a cold salad, then put together a delicate fruit platter.

An hour later, a table of delicious, fragrant dinner was set.

The woman let out a sigh of relief, glanced at the time—it was a quarter past five, just fifteen minutes left. She removed her apron and quickly went to the bedroom, then from the wardrobe she chose a set of black lace sexy lingerie and walked into the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later when she emerged from the bathroom, she had transformed into a seductive siren.

With a tall figure at one meter sixty-eight, her porcelain skin was accentuated with black lace, beguiling and white. Her breast size was just right, creating a stunning cleavage, full and perky, partially visible through the black lace; her tiny, slender waist seemed as though it might break with a single pinch; her round buttocks were pert, and coupled with her long, fair legs, the temptation was simply irresistible.

She sat in front of the mirror with her waist-length wet hair, gently blowing it dry with a hairdryer, then smiled sweetly.

With a melon seed-shaped face, naturally arched eyebrows, long and lifted, they carried a charm to them; bright apricot eyes gleamed with a light laugh, clear and transparent; a straight, delicate nose, petite yet resilient; a pair of slightly pouting sexy lips, radiating an enticing, rosy tint;

She lightly touched her lips with her fingertips, highlighting two attractive dimples by her mouth.

He liked to kiss those lips, even though they didn't speak.

He liked to see her in black lace lingerie, even though she preferred white.

He liked the food she cooked, although she had to fit it in around her A University schedule.

As long as he liked it, she was willing to do it because she was his mistress.

Yes, mistress.

Ever since that rainy night four years ago when he brought her here, they had established a transaction, an affair that was not about love.

At that thought, the shallow smile in her eyes dimmed, then she picked up a sheer shawl, draped it over her bare shoulders, and walked quietly to the floor-to-ceiling window to gaze into the distance.

Five minutes later, she saw his car approaching from afar.

And so, she offered a light, beaming smile once more, like a joyful butterfly barefooted descending the stairs, obediently standing at the foyer waiting for him to enter.

Two minutes later, he came in.

He was a handsome man around thirty, with a towering stature over one meter eighty, wearing a dark Armani shirt that fit perfectly, drawing out the width of his shoulders and the solidity of his chest. The striped tie of the same brand had been removed, and the first two buttons of the shirt were undone, revealing his healthy and sexy bronze skin. The cuffs of the shirt were also undone, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows revealing his strong and powerful arms. Gray suit pants accentuated the length of his legs and the robustness of his waist.

His facial features were very deep-set, with short, thick hair, a full and broad forehead, his eyebrows sharp like flying swords, and his starry eyes long and deep. The bridge of his nose was straight; his lips neither too thin nor too thick, and his handsome face was covered in a light stubble indicating the fatigue of a day's work. Yet, upon seeing her with that light, alluring smile at the door, his gaze grew even more intense.

That was the black he liked, the dress which made her fair skin look even more enticing against the black.

His eyes darkened, and he embraced her slender figure into his arms, immediately giving her a passionate kiss. It wasn't until she was panting and pushed against his chest, signaling with her hands, "The food is getting cold; let's eat first," that he released her from his embrace and walked to the dining table, his eyes regaining their clarity.

The entire table was filled with his favorite dishes, he quietly glanced at her and started eating silently, not uttering another word.

She kept smiling the whole time; she liked watching him eat the food she had made and enjoyed their quiet companionship. Although he did not verbally praise her cooking, she knew he was affirming her with his actions.

So, she pushed back her chair and walked towards the kitchen; a moment later, she brought out a pot of steaming bone soup, which she had stewed for an entire afternoon, putting her whole heart into it.

His deep eyes quietly looked at her once more, then he took the bowl of soup she had served for him.

Her smile instantly filled with contentment.

After dinner, and a bath, draped in just a towel around his waist, he lay prone on the wide double bed waiting for her.

She slipped off her shawl and gently knelt beside him, meticulously massaging his broad shoulders.

After a while, his deep and rich voice came through, "How long before you graduate?"

She was slightly taken aback, then smiled and used hand signs to tell him, "I got my A University diploma this morning. Do you want to see my graduation..." Her words suddenly faltered.

Because she saw him turn around, his sharp eyes immediately businesslike, "Now that you have graduated, I will make arrangements for you to conceive as soon as possible. Be prepared."

Her body stiffened, and she was reminded of the transaction between them. She immediately hid the anticipation in her eyes, signaled with her hands, "I understand," and then lay down under his sharp and intense gaze, her body trembling slightly.

Had this day finally arrived?

In the past four years, he had kissed her lips, her body, but he had never made her his woman.

She knew he had been waiting for her to graduate, waiting for her to complete her studies before fulfilling their transaction.

Today, as a graduate, she was still immersed in that joy, eagerly anticipating that he would celebrate with her, share her stack of graduation photos, and congratulate her on finding a job... But how could she forget that he was a cold man? These scenes had only ever appeared in her dreams.