He Thought She’d Never Leave—Until She Did - Chapter 12

An He was taken to one of Song Yu’s private residences—a place with security so tight not even a fly could get through.

The network signal there was completely blocked, meaning that without special equipment, it was impossible to contact the outside world.

She made an excuse to go to the bathroom and tried countless times to make a call, but not a single one went through.

A knock sounded at the door. Before she could hide her phone, the door opened. Song Yu stood there, one hand in his pocket, eyes cold and fathomless, as if he could devour her whole with just one look.

She used to think he was simply indifferent, but now, looking at him again, she realized—he was ruthless, unreasonable, and terrifyingly cruel.

For the first time, An He felt fear. A flicker of doubt crept into her heart—what had she loved about him in the first place?

In a flash, memories surged—those moments when she was bullied, and he had appeared in every scene, pulling her from danger, teaching those who hurt her a lesson.

Maybe that was why she could never get him out of her heart.

He was cruel—but to her, he had been good.

He once said, “Even if you want the whole world, I’ll give it to you.”

As long as she asked, he would always deliver.

It might have sounded like a joke at the time, yet over the years, that was exactly what he had done.

Whenever her eyes lingered on something for more than a moment, he would quietly have it placed before her—no matter the price.

Everyone said Song Yu spoiled her.

But she never dared believe it. Still, she secretly hoped that if she could have his affection, her life would be complete.

Yet love, when wounded too deeply, always reaches a breaking point.

Like now.

An He didn’t want to dwell on the past anymore. She only wanted to look forward—toward a future without him.

Would it hurt?

Probably.

But she would endure it.

“Song Yu, why did you bring me here?” she asked, stepping forward.

“To let you calm down,” Song Yu said flatly. “You’ve been too exhausted lately.”

“Do you think this will make me change my mind?” An He’s voice was steady. “You know me. Once I’ve decided something, I don’t go back on it.”

That was exactly why Song Yu had brought her here.

“Then you should also know,” he said, stepping closer and gripping her chin, his gaze sharp and domineering, “no one dares defy my orders.”

“Not even you, An He.”

He wasn’t wrong—he was the head of the Song family, a powerful figure in Nancheng. His commands were law.

The An He of the past might have submitted. But not anymore.

The only person who could confine her was herself—and as long as she didn’t yield, no one could force her.

“What if I insist on leaving?” she asked quietly.

“Leave?” Song Yu pinned her against the door, his tall frame pressing down on her. “Where do you think you can go?”

“Anywhere,” she said. “As long as it’s somewhere without you.”

“You really want to get away from me that badly?” His voice turned dark. Everyone wanted to be near Song Yu—men and women alike. But only An He treated him like poison.

He was furious.

Utterly furious.

“An He, have I spoiled you too much?” His fingers dug into her jaw. “If that’s the case, I’ll take back everything I gave you.”

Did he spoil her?

Yes.

But not in the way she wanted.

She never wanted his indulgence—she wanted his love.

But now she knew there was no hope. His heart had always belonged to Zhou Rong.

“You’re not taking anything back,” she whispered through trembling breaths. “Because I don’t want it anymore.”

“Song Yu, I don’t want your affection—and I don’t want you.”

Her voice broke into a shout. Years of pain spilled out at once, her tears streaming freely.

Her heart ached so badly she could barely breathe. She wanted to say she didn’t care—but that would be a lie. Still, she refused to back down. She had to see this through.

“You already have the woman you love,” she said. “So stop tormenting me, Song Yu. Let me go.”

“If I can’t have something, I’d rather destroy it than give it to someone else.” His expression twisted, convinced she wanted to leave him for another man. “An He, you want to leave? Then die.”

“If you die, I’ll let you go.”

He knew she wouldn’t.

She still had things to live for.

But no matter how much she’d loved him, every cruel word had eroded her heart.

Forget him. Forget him completely.

He wasn’t worth loving.

“Song Yu,” she said hoarsely, “for the sake of the bond we once had as siblings, I’m begging you—let me go.”

“Who the hell is your brother?” he snapped. “My mother only had one child—me. I don’t have a sister.”

“And you are definitely not one.”

An He could barely breathe; her face flushed red. “Whether you acknowledge it or not,” she choked out, “I’m still your sister.”

He laughed, head tilted back. “Sister? Tell me, what kind of sister climbs into her brother’s bed? Cries and begs him to be rougher? Says, ‘Brother, I love you’?”

“What kind of sister kisses her brother like that?”

“Do you still dare to call yourself my sister, An He?”

Every word stabbed into her like a knife. Hearing those memories twisted into something filthy made her heart burn with pain so deep it hollowed her out.

“Stop it. Please, stop,” she cried.

But Song Yu didn’t stop. “Did you forget who came to my bed first? Did you forget how you trembled beneath me that night? You begged me to love you. You said you could lose everything in this world—except me. You even said you’d die for me.”

He grabbed her face harshly. “So what now? You found another man and forgot all about me? An He, you really are a shameless woman.”

His mother had been right—An He was a woman who betrayed easily.

He wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. “Do you think crying will make me let you go? Dream on.”

He bit her earlobe until blood welled, then licked it away slowly. “You want to leave? Then do it with your life.”

An He froze.

He threw her into the bedroom and locked the door.

“Song Yu, open the door! Open it!” she pounded on it furiously.

“Reflect on yourself,” he said coldly from outside. “Once you’ve done that, I’ll open the door.”

He ordered a servant to bring her porridge. “Make sure she finishes every drop. Not a sip less.”

Then he added, “An He, Aunt Zhou has cared for you since you came to the Song family. Don’t make things hard for her. Otherwise—”

He didn’t finish, just turned and left. Before entering his study, he heard Aunt Zhou’s pleading voice:

“Miss, please, eat a little—for me, if not for yourself. I can’t afford to lose this job. My son died in a car accident, my daughter-in-law ran away, and I only have a grandson left in school. If I lose my job, he won’t even have food to eat. Please, miss.”

An He’s heart softened. She could fight with Song Yu, but not with Aunt Zhou.

She took the bowl. “Alright. I’ll eat.”

Hearing that, Song Yu’s lips curved faintly as he walked away.

The video conference took an hour and a half.

When he came out, Aunt Zhou reported, “Sir, Miss finished her meal.”

“See the butler for a bonus,” he said.

“Thank you, sir.”

That afternoon, a sudden issue at the company required his attention. Before leaving, he told Aunt Zhou to watch An He closely.

After hearing the car drive away, An He knocked on her door. “Aunt Zhou?”

“Yes, Miss?” came the reply from outside.

“It’s too stuffy in here. Could you open the door for a bit?”

“The master forbade it…”

“Please, just for a little while. I’ll come right back in. Please, Aunt Zhou.”

After hesitating again and again, Aunt Zhou finally opened the door.

An He didn’t try to run—she knew she couldn’t escape. She only wanted to contact Tiantian.

“Aunt Zhou, may I borrow your phone?”

Aunt Zhou shook her head. “The master confiscated it.”

An He’s heart sank. She knew Song Yu was thorough, but she hadn’t realized he would go this far.

“It’s fine. Go ahead with your work.”

She glanced around the living room, trying to spot a place without cameras.

But there was nowhere. Every corner was monitored—360 degrees of surveillance.

Soon, his voice echoed through the speakers.

“An He, if you don’t want to make trouble for Aunt Zhou, stay quiet.”

She froze. He was watching her. Her face went pale. Without another word, she returned to the bedroom and didn’t come out again.

After handling company matters, Song Yu rushed home.

On the way, his mother called. “Where’s An He?”

He tugged at his tie. “Why?”

“Zhou Rong had a fever last night—pneumonia. She needs a blood transfusion,” his mother said. “Have An He come to the hospital tomorrow.”

“She can’t.” For the first time, Song Yu refused. “Mom, don’t forget—when you adopted An He, it wasn’t to use her as a blood donor for Zhou Rong.”

It was true—at first, his mother had taken An He in simply because she liked her.

But after that incident, everything had changed.

“Whatever the reason, only she can save Zhou Rong now. She has to help.”

“It’s the Song family that owes the Zhou family, not An He,” Song Yu said sharply. “Don’t get that twisted.”

“She’s part of the Song family too,” his mother retorted. “What’s wrong with giving a little blood?”

“Mom, be reasonable.”

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to.”

He frowned. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve fallen for her, haven’t you?” she snapped. “Yu, I warned you—that’s not allowed! I don’t care if it kills you, it’s still not allowed!”

“My life isn’t yours to control.”

“I’m your mother.”

“Even so, you don’t decide for me,” he said coldly. “From now on, don’t contact An He again. As for Zhou Rong’s transfusion, I’ll handle it. My assistant will reach out.”

“No. I don’t trust anyone else’s blood. I only want An He’s!” His mother’s voice rose to a shriek. “Yu, stay out of this!”

“You know me,” he said. “When I decide to protect someone, no one touches them.”

He hadn’t protected her before—but that had changed.

“You really do love her, don’t you?”

“No.”

It wasn’t love. He just couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else wanting what was his.

No one.

He hung up, ignoring her rage.

On the way home, he stopped by a fruit shop and bought some fruit. But before he even stepped inside, he heard voices shouting.

“Miss, please—put the knife down! Let’s talk about this!” Aunt Zhou pleaded.

“Let me go. Right now!” An He’s voice trembled but was fierce.

“Please, Miss, don’t make it hard for me. I can’t let you go—Sir will fire me.”

“You want money? I’ll give you money,” An He said. “As much as you want.”

When Song Yu entered, the sight before him stopped him cold—An He stood with a knife to her own throat.

She was no longer the gentle, soft girl he remembered.

Her eyes were bloodshot, her face pale, streaked with red where blood had smeared across her hands and wrists. Her white dress was stained.

He had never seen her look so desperate.

“An He, what are you doing?” he roared.

Her fingers trembled. The blade nicked her skin, and blood beaded along her slender neck.

“I’m leaving,” she said.

“Song Yu, I’m leaving.”

“Let me go.”

He dropped the fruit to the floor and strode toward her. “Impossible.”

She stepped back. “If you won’t let me go, then you can collect my corpse.”

She meant every word. She would leave tonight—no matter the cost.

“You want to die?” Song Yu’s voice was ice. “Fine. Go ahead.”