Mystic Wolf

The night was young, and a luxurious Rolls-Royce sped through the bustling streets of Aspen City, signaling that this was going to be a night far from tranquil.

"Mr. Shaw, here is the plan for tomorrow," Cora Kelley, a young woman who exuded both intellect and beauty, said as she handed over the document. Her intelligent eyes, tinged with a hint of longing, gazed at his weary ones. "The hour is late, and its an hours drive to your home. Shall I book a room nearby for you to rest?" she suggested with thoughtful consideration.

At that moment, the moon slowly peeked through the thin clouds, casting its watchful eye over the world below.

"No need," Ethan Shaw replied, his deep, slightly tired black eyes flickering with a cold glint as he turned his head away, staring at the neon lights that danced outside the window, reflecting his restless mood. He wished he could sprout wings and fly home instantly.

Cora gazed at his chiseled profile, a testament to the passage of time, a blend of man and boy that was uniquely embodied in him. His gentle black eyes could draw you into their depths, but you would soon realize it was an illusion. Everything was fleeting, except for the love he had for his wife.

Coras residence was not far, and soon they arrived at her place. Looking into his calm, emotionless eyes, her beautiful eyes dimmed, but the thought of their meeting tomorrow brought a satisfied smile to her lips. "See you at the company tomorrow, Mr. Shaw," she said, her stunning almond eyes radiating a dazzling brilliance.

Unfortunately, he was too preoccupied to appreciate it, merely casting a fleeting glance her way and offering a faint, "Goodbye."

Left standing there, Cora watched the car speed away, her feet stamping the ground in frustration, her eyes revealing a hint of greed and determination. "Mr. Shaw, no matter how much you love your wife, I will never give up on you!" she vowed.

There will always be those who meddle, knowing full well of ones commitments, yet they still insert themselves, stirring up trouble without restraint, shamelessly becoming the other woman or man...

Sitting quietly in the car, Ethan Shaw looked at the empty, slightly indented seat beside him, his heart growing more agitated. He gripped the steering wheel, rolled down the window, and a fresh breeze entered the car, dispersing the lingering scent of perfume...

At that moment, he inadvertently noticed a couple passionately kissing at the entrance of a nightclub. The familiar slender figure made his chest constrict, and he blurted out, "Stop the car!"

"Mr. Shaw..." Despite the illegality of stopping there, the driver, seeing the flicker of madness in Ethans cold, black eyes, involuntarily pressed the brake, the screeching sound echoing through the silent night.

Suddenly alert, Ethan let out a breath he didnt realize he was holding. The couple, entangled in their embrace, finally turned to look at the unfamiliar faces. His heart relaxed, and he redirected his gaze to the astonished Dan Ding, coolly instructing, "Keep driving."

"Yes, sir." Dan Ding, still patting his startled chest, quickly accelerated the car.

He stole a glance at the rearview mirror, the unchanging coldness etched on Ethans face. Had he imagined that ferocious expression just now?

The rest of the journey was quiet, as if Ethan was the only one in the dark night. He couldnt help but take out a bulging, crumpled envelope from his briefcase. Staring at the glaring words, "Mrs. Shaw and Mr. Night," his heart ached unbearably. His deep black eyes filled with rage and resentment, his veins bulging as he clutched the envelope, fighting the urge to tear it apart, but ultimately refraining...

A European-style mansion stood grandly on the outskirts, with willow trees swaying wildly in the night, much like the brightly lit room within, where two bodies, one black and one white, were intensely entwined. Their passion was as tumultuous as a storm, their union as seamless as water and milk, their lovemaking as wild as a tempest.

He varied his movements, tormenting the object of his desire, yet it was never enough. He wished to bind her to him for eternity, to become one with him, to die in this world of pleasure until the end of time.

But fantasies are beautiful, reality is cruel.

Staring into the cold, clear eyes beneath him, he felt a sense of discontent. As he fiercely thrust into her, he clutched her soft, smooth jaw, gazing intently at the panic in her eyes. A smirk played on his lips, a glint of malice in his eyes, and his voice, as cold as a devils, whispered into her ear, "Do you think you can escape me in this life? Freya Snow, dont delude yourself. The moment you crossed paths with me, your body and soul became mine. I will never allow you to leave me, never allow any man to take you from me, including your so-called boring husband!"