Demon Hunter - Book 6 Chapter 37.13

The omega Luci, who came to Earth for the first time, thought that she was bound to die, so she indulged once, but unexpectedly discovered that the people on Earth can also delay her fever period, giving her hope of surviving.
The manager brought her into the set and warned her repeatedly not to mess with Teacher Chi.
She looked at the beautiful woman, her eyelids twitched slightly, sorry, it’s over.
Others said that Chi Yinghou was cold and indifferent, a flower of the high mountains, who could only be seen from a distance, but not touched. Thinking of her cramped appearance that day, Lu resigned.
During the filming, Lu Ci played the role of the high-cold president. His aloof and indifferent demeanor amazed the audience. After the performance, Chi Shuang handed her the sleeve and asked, “Touch my clothes to see if I am the wife of the president.” material?”
Lu Ci: ………?
At the awards ceremony, backstage, Chi Shuang blocked her in the dressing room, “Little Luer, I haven’t seen you for so long, do you miss me?”
The corners of Lu Ci’s eyes twitched slightly, looking at the man’s restless hands, “It’s only been two hours.”
When seeing that person always trying his best to have intimate contact with him, Lu Ci once thought it was the sequelae caused by her ingesting too much of her own pheromone, and with a little apology, tried to cooperate with her thoughts.
It was only later that I realized, huh, a certain person’s nature was just revealed 🙂
————
The original point of view is the main subject, but because there are a small amount of mutual attack in the text, it will inevitably cause discomfort, so the point of view is changed to mutual attack.

Content tags: entertainment circle, slapping face, sweet article, cool article
Search keywords: Protagonist: Lu Ci, Chi Shuang ┃ Supporting role: ┃ Others: abo
One-sentence introduction: Did Teacher Chi see his wife today?
Conception: The world regards me as worthless, but I bloom like a rose

- Description from novelbuddy

Wei Qiqi is the only successor of Wei Corps inheriting a hefty fortune. However, her stepmother bribed a witch from Thailand, harming her with two ancient witchcraft curses.

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.