Serena had a feeling that Black Jack was now fixated on kidnapping Nicholas.
She sent a reply: [I’ll talk it over with my friend tomorrow. Going to bed now.]
Then she quickly logged out of the private network, put her phone down, and went to sleep.
However…
That night, she had a particularly bizarre dream.
In the dream.
Black Jack’s words—‘light bondage,’ ‘take what you want,’ ‘snatch him’—swirled like a vortex before her eyes.
Finally, they merged with Nicholas’s face.
In a dimly lit basement.
Cold iron chains bound Nicholas’s wrists and ankles.
He was slumped against the wall like a discarded doll.
His black shirt was unbuttoned, revealing the sharp line of his jaw and his powerful, well-defined collarbones..
His refined, almost demonic face lacked its usual lazy arrogance.
Instead, it held a look of… nearly humiliating restraint.
His head was thrown back, his expression that of a pure, defiant victim.
And there she stood, dressed in black leather, looming over him. The leather whip in her hand tilted his chin up, forcing her to admire his stubborn, unyielding face. “Tell me, do you like me or not?”
***
Serena practically jolted awake from the dream.
She sat bolt upright, gasping for breath, a thin layer of sweat on her forehead.
She covered her face, feeling her cheeks burn.
The chaotic scenes from the dream were replaying in her mind, frame by frame, like a movie.
She scrubbed her face hard.
It was all Black Jack’s fault!
Saying all that crazy stuff, making her have such a weird dream!
Just then, a knock came at her door.


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