Apex Predator - Chap 51
Shen Dai spent an excruciating several days at the Qu residence. After twice turning down the Professor and Cheng Zimei’s offers to visit, they both began to suspect that something wasn’t right.
That day, Professor Liuxi called Shen Dai. When he saw the number, Shen Dai immediately felt guilty. He didn’t want to lie to the professor, but he didn’t dare not answer, either.
“A-Dai, are you feeling a bit better? Zhou Lan said that you asked him for a new set of experimental data today, does that mean you’re able to work now?”
“Yes, much better. These past few days when I wasn’t able to go to the Research Institute I was working on my thesis.”
The Professor let out a long “Oh”, before asking, “What’s going on with you that you have to take so many days off?”
“Some hormonal problems after heat, I keep feeling dizzy and tired. The doctor told me to get some rest.”
“What issue is it exactly? Send a picture of the medical report to me. I’ll get a friend of mine to have a look.”
“It’s quite complicated…”
Liuxi’s voice became somewhat stern: “A-Dai, what on earth is going on with you that you have to lie to me?”
Even across the telephone, Shen Dai felt utterly ashamed. He whispered, “Professor, I’m really sorry. I’m not doing this intentionally, but it’s simply impossible for me to come to work right now.”
“Does this have something to do with President Qu?”
Shen Dai fell silent.
“When I was in South Africa, you told me that he wanted to come with you for an inspection, but also that it should be a secret. In the end, you didn’t come because of the passing of Mr Qu. Soon after I came back, I started hearing rumours about the two of you. Then there was the medical leave you took. I’ve already checked with the Human Resources department at the Research Institute and it seems that you didn’t submit a medical certificate at all. It was an exceptional authorisation given by the company.” As if he were expounding on an academic theory, Liuxi presented his analysis in a clear and well-organised manner. “I just had a conversation with Zimei. I only found out that you and President Qu were in a relationship by weaselling it out of her. As for the rest, she told me that I should ask you myself.”
Shen Dai felt that these three words “in a relationship” were like three resounding slaps to his face. They were not “in a relationship” at all. Their present situation was not even comparable to casual sex partners. In the past his admiration for Qu Moyu had to be kept in the dark, later their marriage agreement was kept in the dark, and now this mark was being kept in the dark.
Between them, it seemed as if they were forming more and more connections, each deeper than the last. But in fact, Qu Moyu only needed to turn away, and everything would cease to be.
With some difficulty, he began to speak, saying in a soft voice, “Professor, I signed a confidentiality agreement. I’m not lying to you for the sake of it.”
“The timing of your heat coincided with the timing of President Qu’s rut, and then you immediately asked for medical leave. Don’t underestimate the IQ of the average person. There are a lot of rumours going around the company at the moment. Tell me the truth. Are you pregnant?”
“…I can’t be sure yet.”
Liuxi sighed heavily: “I don’t even know if I should be happy for you. But from the tone of your voice and your current situation, it doesn’t seem like good news.”
Shen Dai felt a sting in his nose. For a moment he had the urge to cry. In his eyes, his professor was the closest thing to a father he had on this earth. During the most difficult of times, it was also his professor who had helped him.
He was full of sadness and grievances. He wanted to speak freely and unburden himself to the person he respected the most. But he didn’t have that kind of seniority, and he had no desire to trouble other people either.
“A-Dai, I don’t know much about the emotional matters between the both of you, and it’s not good to ask too much. But I want to warn you, top Alphas are extremely different from people like us. You cannot apply the value systems and emotional models of ordinary people to speculate about them. I hope you will protect yourself, keep a clear head, and remember what your core principles and goals in life are.”
“I understand. Professor, thank you,” replied Shen Dai, weakly. Of course he understood, but the difference between knowing something and actually doing it was the high wall that mankind spent their whole lives trying to step over.
Not long after he was done speaking with the Professor, Qu Moyu’s family physician arrived to take a blood sample from him. He quietly cooperated. Only when the doctor was about to leave did he ask: “When will we be able to find out?”
The doctor gave Shen Dai a look but didn’t reply, only politely nodded his head and left taking his medicine case with him.
Shen Dai retrieved the financial newspaper he had half-finished and resumed reading. It was an article about the Xingzhou Corporation that detailed the recent stock market crisis and gave a financial analysis of the company.
According to the article, as a result of the slump in the Rare Earth industry in recent years, coupled with the significant amount spent on research, Qu Chengchen’s aspirations to change the strategic direction of the corporation had gained the backing of several shareholders.
Ever since the passing of Grandfather Qu, there had been a relentless struggle for power between the two brothers. During the week when Qu Moyu had no choice but to be absent, Qu Chengchen launched an exceptionally aggressive attack. Though ultimately unsuccessful, he had caused Qu Moyu to suffer significant losses.
In the outside world, there were all sorts of speculations and analyses about this battle to “seize the throne”. One of the significant trump cards that Qu Moyu held was the acquisition of Chuanghai. However, due to Chuanghai’s debts and the challenge of making the newly acquired mines profitable in the short term, there were too many uncertainties at present. Should the acquisition process fall through, Qu Chengchen could potentially secure more backing votes within the board of directors, which would lead to Qu Moyu losing his grip on power.
This was a brutal war without blood.
That evening, Qu Moyu came back very early—the earliest he had during this period of time, and the first time he sought out Shen Dai of his own accord.
Shen Dai felt that Qu Moyu had been avoiding him. Firstly, because his anger had not yet subsided, and secondly, because he feared that Shen Dai might use the pheromone advantage gained after being marked to influence him.
Shen Dai thought perhaps that Qu Moyu had been worrying too much. After being subjected to those cruel and merciless words, it appeared that the only one who could be influenced was himself.
In his heart, he still had a faint and unrealistic hope to clear up the misunderstanding between them. After all, they had been perfectly fine before all of this had happened.
With the recording of the conversation between him and Shen Qin in hand, he reached Qu Moyu’s study. But the instant he caught sight of Lawyer Chen seated on the sofa, his heart broke. He had the most terrifying sense of foreboding about what was about to happen next.
There was no longer any malice or anger in Qu Moyu’s demeanour. His sole expression was one of no expression at all, save for the flicker in his eyes which conveyed his utter indifference.
Shen Dai looked at Qu Moyu, and then at Lawyer Chen. On the short journey from the second to the third floor, he had thought countless times about what he was going to say, how he was going to defend himself, and how he was going to convince Qu Moyu of his innocence. But at this moment, he found himself unable to utter a single word, now fully aware that he had been summoned to this room to stand trial.
“Take a seat,” Qu Moyu said.
Shen Dai did not take a seat. Forcing himself to look directly at Qu Moyu, he asked a question that made his heart tremble: “So, the results of the blood test must be out then?”
Qu Moyu’s eyebrows furrowed. Subconsciously, he didn’t want to answer this question. Even so, he was obliged to answer. Glancing at Shen Dai’s stomach, he nodded.
At that moment, all Shen Dai could feel was that his vision was becoming blurred. He had been sucked into a world of boundless chaos, spinning madly, thrown high into the air, and smashed ruthlessly to the ground. He used the pain from this fall from grace to come back to his senses.
Even though he had already prepared himself, even though he had always known that the probability of this outcome was high, in the moment that he confirmed he really did have a child, a tremor was sent rippling through his entire lifetime.
He had no words to describe his present state of mind: an unpleasant mixture of every kind of emotion.
The saddest thing was that although he had a child with the person he loved, looking ahead into the future, there wasn’t the joy of welcoming new life; instead, there was only a cloud of buzzing chaos.
Shen Dai stared at Qu Moyu. In his gaze were pain, pleading, and the faintest glimmer of expectation. He was awaiting judgement, yet clung to the wild hope that his executioner might still show mercy.
Qu Moyu had an unfamiliar sensation of pain, like a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He adjusted his breathing discreetly and avoided meeting Shen Dai’s gaze.
Lawyer Chen was skilled at reading people’s expressions and emotions, after all, he was being paid to resolve problems for his employer. He gave a light cough, then in a formulaic tone of voice, he said, “Mr. Shen, I was the one who drafted the prenuptial agreement between you and President Qu. I believe we can all recall that there was a specific clause that explicitly prohibited you from bearing President Qu’s child. You are in breach of contract.”
In breach of contract.
Deep as he searched his memory, it seemed that he could not recall anything more callous and unfeeling than these words — especially when used to describe a budding little life.
He slowly clenched his fist. Holding back tears, he stared at Qu Moyu and asked: “Am I solely to blame for this?”
Qu Moyu narrowed his eyes.
“We are not discussing the attribution of blame. That falls outside the scope of the contract. We are only discussing the established facts,” stated Lawyer Chen.
Shen Dai’s body was trembling uncontrollably. In a last-ditch attempt to save himself, he argued, “I have a recording of a conversation between me and Shen Qin. I didn’t conspire against you. I can also confront Qu Chengchen face to face, I…”
“That’s not important,” interrupted Qu Moyu, his gaze icy, “Whether or not it was done by you doesn’t matter, but, going forward, you have to do exactly as I say.”
Not important? His innocence wasn’t important? His integrity wasn’t important? His honour wasn’t important?!
Lawyer Cheng retrieved a frighteningly thick document from his briefcase. “I hope that Mr Shen will cooperate with me today to finalise the signing of the divorce settlement and the property division agreement. As long as you cooperate, President Qu will not pursue your breach of contract.”
Tears ran down Shen Dai’s cheeks. It was as if his heart was being stabbed over and over and over. He bent over slightly, aching so much he almost couldn’t stand up.
Qu Moyu quietly gripped the armrest of his chair. He could sense his pheromones thrashing about inside his body. He had to use all his focus to maintain control of this force.
The mastery of one’s pheromones was the life-long cultivation of an Alpha. But the moment he saw Shen Dai’s tears, he almost lost control.
He wanted Lawyer Chen to shut up. He wanted his Omega to stop crying. He wanted everything to go back to the way it was before. Yet at the same time, a calm voice inside his head was telling him that the reason he couldn’t bear it, the reason for his discomfort, the reason he couldn’t let go, was entirely due to the mark playing tricks on him. As long as the mark was gone, he would have no reason to be affected by a mere omega.
“Once all these agreements have been signed, I will arrange for you tomorrow to go…” At this point, Lawyer Chen’s humanity narrowly prevailed over his professionalism, and he found himself unable to verbalise the cruellest part of the sentence. “—to handle what was breached in the contract and at the same time have the mark removed.”
Shen Dai had been watching Qu Moyu from start to finish. He wanted to see with his own eyes how his Alpha was going to deal with him. To see if the person he loved, the one who had saved him from crisis on numerous occasions, who had offered him a beacon of hope, would truly have the heart to push him into hell.
A pity, because he was unable to read the slightest trace of emotion on Qu Moyu’s face.
The person who had once treated him with such tenderness and affection was unexpectedly identical to the person standing in front of him now.
Shen Dai’s expression of despair caused Qu Moyu to feel uneasy, but the more he felt Shen Dai’s influence on him, the more he wanted to resist. Being coerced by an Omega through a mark or emotions deeply revolted him. There was no one who could control him, no one who could coerce him. No one!
Qu Moyu forced himself to stare into Shen Dai’s eyes. His powerful alpha pheromones steeled his state of mind. He became firm and determined.
In a low voice, he said, “Go on, sign it. Do as I tell you. I will compensate you financially.”
Using all of his willpower to support his swaying body, Shen Dai walked over. And without hesitation, he picked up the pen.