Passo a Passo Fora de Controle

“Lin, haven’t you gotten intimate with Shen Zhao yet?”

“Too dirty, don’t want to touch it.”

In the smoke-filled private room, Zhou Lin lounged lazily against the wine-red sofa, his peach blossom eyes both seductive and playful, a slight smirk teasing at the corner of his mouth.

Shen Zhao stood at the door, chilled to the bone.

Someone noticed her. “Shen Zhao?!”

The smile on Zhou Lin’s face faded, his brows furrowing slightly as he rose from the sofa.

Taking a long stride, he stood before Shen Zhao, his expression calm as if he weren’t the one who just called her dirty.

“Who told you to come here?” Zhou Lin asked.

Shen Zhao raised her hand and slapped Zhou Lin’s dangerously handsome, almost bewitching face.

Zhou Lin narrowed his eyes, radiating menace.

“Zhou Lin, we’re breaking up.”

Zhou Lin frowned. “Making a scene again?”

The palm that just struck him tingled painfully, the ache piercing her heart. Holding back tears, Shen Zhao turned and left without looking back.

Zhou Lin didn’t follow.

Shen Zhao knew well he wouldn’t.

Zhou Er, heir to one of Beijing’s top aristocratic families, notorious for his wild, heartless ways and prideful arrogance, would never chase after a “bootlicker” girlfriend like her.

Drowning her sorrows at a bar, Shen Zhao ordered seventeen male models.

During her three-year relationship with Zhou Lin, he’d been caught with exactly eleven primary and five backup ambiguous partners—like assembling a standard women’s soccer team.

As for the extra