Chapter 716

Mikhailovna meticulously dressed herself, attempting to conceal her inner turmoil and humiliation with a solemn makeup and gown, then took a deep breath and walked with heavy steps toward the villa where Li Chen resided—a place that now seemed to her like a demon’s lair.

She dismissed the maids standing at the door, their glances laden with ambiguity, and walked straight into the inner chamber.

Li Chen lounged lazily on a soft couch, idly turning over a faintly glowing magical rune, seemingly unsurprised by her arrival; he merely lifted his eyelids slightly, a faint, elusive smile playing on his lips.

Mikhailovna forced herself to meet his eyes—the kind that seemed to pierce straight into the soul—and spoke, her voice dry with tension yet striving for composure: “Witch Master, I beg you, please let Valentina go.”

Li Chen’s face showed precisely the right amount of surprise; he sat upright and regarded the composed beauty before him with keen interest: “Oh? Madam, why say such a thing? I merely happened to meet Lady Valentina in the garden after lunch and exchanged a few words. She seemed quite intrigued by some of my tales of witchcraft—is that forbidden?”

He was genuinely surprised: the bait had barely been cast, yet the big fish had already bitten—and with such urgency.

It was as if she were saying: What do you take me for?

But in truth, Mikhailovna’s instincts were correct—if she didn’t stop him now, Li Chen would surely claim Valentina.

To others, she was a sharp-tongued venomous woman, yet in physique and appearance, she was peerless.

Mikhailovna stared at Li Chen’s feigned innocence, her heart aching with fury; she knew he was pretending ignorance, yet she had no choice but to speak plainly: “Why play dumb, Master? What you did to Lyudmila and Olga—I know full well!”

“Now you’ve set your sights on Valentina. She’s a straightforward girl, clueless to your methods. I beg you, spare her. Don’t drag her into this mire.”

Her tone carried a hint of pleading, but mostly suppressed rage.

Li Chen rose slowly, stepped before Mikhailovna, and looked down at her, his gaze sweeping over her flushed cheeks and the heaving, full, voluptuous bosom beneath her dress, his voice laced with amusement:

“Madam, you make me sound like some monstrous flood or wild beast. My interactions with the ladies are merely deep spiritual exchanges—or as Olga put it, sacred rituals.”

He paused deliberately, stepped closer, lowered his voice, and spoke with undeniable authority: “But since you’ve come here personally to plead for Valentina, the condition remains unchanged—you understand what I mean.”

That condition again! The one that had awakened her countless nights in shame and revulsion!

Mikhailovna’s slender frame trembled; her face turned instantly pale. She instinctively stepped back half a pace, clutching her skirt so tightly her knuckles turned white.

A crushing sense of humiliation and fury surged through her, causing her full chest to heave uncontrollably, outlining a breathtaking curve as if about to burst through the taut fabric.

Her breath came fast and shallow; her still-beautiful eyes brimmed with struggle, shame, and a profound helplessness.

Li Chen watched her calmly, offering no pressure, as if savoring a precious prey that struggled helplessly within his grasp.

He knew: the moment this proud noblewoman stepped through his door and uttered that plea, her inner defenses had already crumbled.

Now, all he needed was to wait for her to make her own “voluntary” choice.

The room sank into suffocating silence, broken only by the crackling of candles, casting light upon Mikhailovna’s pale, complex profile and her mature, alluring form, now more alluring than ever from the storm of emotion within.

At this moment, Mikhailovna knew: if she did not yield, this man would surely take Valentina.

She bit her lower lip until she tasted blood, then forced her gaze into his with the finality of a woman who had burned all bridges: “I will give you anything—but we will not go that far. If you agree, I am yours now.”