Chapter 90 Snatch Chen Luo Away from This Madwoman!

Is this woman insane? The shock in the eyes of Zhou Mei and the others was unmistakable.

They had only just met, and already she was inviting Chen Luo to dinner alone. Did she think Wen Wan, sitting right there, was invisible? And the way she was looking at Chen Luo—wasn’t that a bit much?

At that moment, Yelena rested her chin on one hand, her body leaning slightly toward Chen Luo. She blinked slowly, a picture of gracious invitation.

Crack!

Wen Wan’s chopsticks snapped with a sharp sound, the wood breaking in her clenched fist as fury overtook her.

“Yelena!”

Enraged, Wen Wan could no longer control herself and was about to leap to her feet. But just then, a hand pressed gently on her thigh, kneading softly.

“I’m sorry, Miss Ye,” Chen Luo said calmly, “but my holiday ends today and classes begin tomorrow.”

“Tell you what—next time, I’ll have Wan’er host, and we’ll invite you to another place for a wild game feast.”

Yelena blinked in surprise.

Chen Luo’s words were flawless. First, he used his schedule as a gentle rejection, then immediately suggested a return invitation with Wen Wan included.

His meaning was clear: he would never dine with her alone. If they were to eat together as friends, Wen Wan would be at his side.

And all the while, Yelena noticed his hand caressing Wen Wan’s stockinged thigh. Wen Wan’s face, moments ago ablaze with rage, melted into a blissful smile.

Within mere seconds, Chen Luo had deftly taken control of a situation that could have erupted at any moment. At such close range, he truly was no ordinary man.

Still, Yelena thought, I refuse to believe I can’t pry anything out of you.

“Oh? What a pity,” she murmured, turning to ladle herself a bowl of soup, sipping slowly.

When the soup reached Chen Luo, he rose slightly, ladled out a bowl, and set it carefully before Wen Wan.

He set down the bowl, picked up a spoon, fished some broth, blew gently on it, and held it to Wen Wan’s lips.

“Careful, it’s hot.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Yelena watched this scene, a nameless irritation rising within her.

Was all this really necessary over a meal? This was supposed to be dinner, not a public display of affection.

Had they considered anyone else’s feelings while showering each other with such affection?

Yelena glanced around. To her surprise, everyone seemed oblivious, each immersed in their own meal.

Liuhua was gnawing on a crab; Mo Lan and Mo Ye sipped their soup with slow elegance; Zhou Mei ate quietly, eyes tracking Chen Luo’s every move.

Were they blind? Did they not see this blatant display? Or were they simply so used to their antics that it no longer registered?

Yelena felt stifled, and turned her head to Wen Wan, about to interrupt this display.

But as she turned, she caught a curl of Wen Wan’s lips—an unmistakable, taunting smile.

What was she playing at?

Alarm bells rang in Yelena’s mind. She tried to look away, but it was too late.

“Honey, I don’t want any soup!”

Wen Wan clung to Chen Luo’s arm, swaying it back and forth. Chen Luo gazed at her with indulgent affection.

“All right, then. What would you like? I’ll get it for you.”

“I want to eat…”

Wen Wan leaned close, whispering in his ear. Then, with both hands, she cupped his face and planted several fierce kisses.

“Mwah! Mwah! Mwah!”

She peppered his face with kisses, leaving a trail of red lipstick marks.

Chen Luo froze, glanced at the others, then tapped Wen Wan gently between the brows.

“You, you—don’t you see how many people are here?”

“I don’t care. Isn’t the best part of a meal eating what you like? You know how picky I am.”

Wen Wan traced a finger lightly over Chen Luo’s chest, then turned to look straight at Yelena.

“President Ye, don’t you agree? I’m full now. I wonder, are you a picky eater?”

Yelena was nearly gasping with anger, her chest heaving.

Not only was Wen Wan flaunting her affection, she was mocking Yelena’s single status, as if to say she wasn’t even qualified to be picky. Yelena, you pathetic single woman.

Damn it! Wen Wan, you crazy woman, you’re driving me insane!

Strangely, Yelena hadn’t expected to feel such rage. By rights, Chen Luo and Wen Wan were a couple—this was just annoying at best. Normally, she would have just ignored it.

But today, for some reason, her anger had surged to an alarming degree—something she’d never experienced in all her years in business.

And in her heart, a voice began to echo, over and over.

Take him. Take him!

Steal Chen Luo from that madwoman!

The voice resounded, and the impulse only grew stronger.

“Oh? I’m not picky at all,” Yelena said, her eyes narrowing on Wen Wan, her tone icy. “Even if it’s on someone else’s plate—if it’s good, I don’t mind taking it.”

At that, even Liuhua, who had been focused on her crab, looked up.

The meaning was unmistakable: a bold, open declaration of war, announcing her intention to compete for Chen Luo.

“Oh?” Wen Wan’s face turned cold, her voice dripping with menace. “If anyone dares put their chopsticks in my plate, I’ll cut off their hands!”

“Oh? President Ye, you’re not the only one with a knife. Let’s see whose blade is sharper.”

Yelena turned to Chen Luo, giving him an overtly flirtatious wink.

“If you have time, you could come to my room for tea. Or perhaps I’ll come to yours.”

With that, she turned and left, never glancing back at Wen Wan.

Wen Wan watched Yelena’s retreating figure, her gaze nearly tangible with murderous intent.

“Wan’er, don’t mind her. You know I’d never… Come, let’s eat.”

Chen Luo tugged gently at Wen Wan’s sleeve, but her expression didn’t soften as before.

“You all go ahead. I need to talk to Chen Luo in private.”

Without waiting for a response, she pulled Chen Luo from the dining room.

Mo Lan tried to follow, but Wen Wan stopped her, dragging Chen Luo straight back to their room.

“Get over here!”

She shoved Chen Luo inside, pushing so hard he stumbled to the edge of the bed.

Click.

Wen Wan locked the door, and Chen Luo immediately sensed something was wrong.

“Wan’er, what’s the matter?”

Without a word, Wen Wan opened a nearby cabinet and took out an iron chain, each end fitted with a pair of furry leather cuffs.

Wait—these looked familiar!

Weren’t these the same cuffs she’d used the first time she’d locked him up?

Now Wen Wan raised her head, madness warring with fear in her eyes, and advanced on Chen Luo with the chain in her hands.

“Darling, you… you can’t be taken from me!”

“I won’t let anyone steal you away!”