He Thought She’d Never Leave—Until She Did - Chapter 6

An He fled into the restroom and slowly slid down against the wall. A chill crept through her body, the air slicing into her like blades of ice until her teeth began to chatter.

It was only late autumn, yet she felt the deep, piercing cold of winter.

She thought back to the time when she had first arrived at the Song family’s house.

Song Yu had despised her from the start. On several occasions, he had deliberately embarrassed her in front of the servants, even overturning the fruit tray she had prepared for him.

When he saw her cry, he merely sneered.

He’d interrogated her about her purpose for coming, warning her coldly not to delude herself—no one in the Song family welcomed her.

But what purpose could she possibly have had? She only wanted a home.

When she didn’t answer, Song Yu had tried to drag her out. She clung to the pillar, eyes red, pleading through tears: “Please, let me stay. I’ll be good from now on. I’ll never make you angry again.”

She didn’t remember how long she cried that day. Eventually, Song Yu let go of her and barked, “Watch yourself. If I ever find out you’re scheming something, I’ll throw you out immediately.”

After that, she treaded carefully, living each day on eggshells.

Back then, she hadn’t yet met Tiantian; she could only nurse her wounds alone.

She kept telling herself that if she just tried hard enough, things would get better.

The turning point came when Song Yu fell ill.

Everyone in the Song family was away—except her.

She stayed up all night taking care of him until his fever finally broke. From that moment on, their relationship began to soften.

Then came that night of heavy rain. Everything changed between them. From strangers to something else—he had kissed her.

He’d been drunk that night, murmuring someone’s name between kisses.

It was… Keke.

Coincidentally, that was her childhood nickname too.

Her grandmother had given it to her, though no one had ever called her that since.

It was only because Song Yu’s mother treated her kindly that she’d mentioned it at all.

She had thought he was calling her name.

But perhaps… he wasn’t.

Maybe there was another woman named Keke.

Tears blurred her vision. She wiped at them, but no matter how hard she tried, they wouldn’t stop.

In the corner of her eye, she noticed the fresh bite marks on the back of her hand.

They’d been rough earlier—too rough. Song Yu had always liked leaving marks on her. The bite on her hand was fresh; he’d even threatened her afterward: “Don’t put on medicine. Don’t treat it. I want it to stay.”

He wanted the mark to last longer.

She had thought he loved her, so she’d indulged all his strange habits—the biting, the bruising, the marks. As long as he was happy, she didn’t mind.

But those few text messages had sunk her like a stone thrown into the sea.

He loved someone else.

An He didn’t know how to describe the feeling inside her—it was like falling into an endless abyss, where every breath might be her last.

Her aunt had been right: someone like her didn’t deserve happiness.

Even if she ever did have it, it would only slip away.

She was cursed. Doomed to live miserably.

Pulling her knees close, she lowered her head, tears falling one by one onto the cold tile floor, each drop burning into her heart.

That once-lively heart was now silent—dark as the night itself.

Song Yu…

What am I supposed to do with you?

The next morning, An He skipped breakfast and went straight to work. She didn’t pause once all morning, burying herself in her tasks.

Several times, Song Yu asked his assistant, Liu Chen, “Where is she?”

Liu Chen cleared his throat. “Secretary An has been busy working all morning.”

“Funny,” Song Yu muttered with irritation, “I didn’t realize my secretary was busier than her boss.”

Liu Chen flinched. “Secretary An should be finishing up soon. I’ll go get her.”

“If she doesn’t come, don’t bother coming back either,” Song Yu warned coldly.

Every time the two of them argued, Liu Chen was the one caught in the crossfire. Being an assistant is truly a miserable job, he thought bitterly.

“Don’t worry, sir. I’ll bring Secretary An over right away—no, I mean, I’ll invite her over,” he corrected himself with a slap to his own mouth.

In the workspace, Liu Chen trailed after An He, whispering, “Secretary An, the boss has been waiting. Please, go see him.”

“I’m not finished yet,” she said flatly.

“Someone else can handle the rest,” Liu Chen urged. “Hurry before the boss gets angry.”

An He didn’t want to face Song Yu. She didn’t even know how.

“I have a meeting in ten minutes. I don’t have time,” she replied.

Liu Chen rolled his eyes. “What meeting could possibly be more important than the boss? Please, just go.”

“Assistant Liu,” An He turned to him, her voice calm but firm, “I’m really busy. Please don’t disturb me.”

An He’s features were delicate, her frame petite, her voice soft with the gentle tone of a southern woman. At first glance, her beauty was breathtaking; after a while, her gentleness drew you in deeper.

To strangers, she was the epitome of grace—sweet, polite, demure.

But anyone who truly knew her understood that beneath that softness, she carried a quiet strength.

With anyone outside the Song family, she could say “no” without hesitation.

There were two sides to her—gentle and yielding one moment, resolute the next.

With Song Yu, she melted.
With everyone else, she stood firm.

“Assistant Liu, I’m really busy,” she said again, “please move aside.”

Liu Chen could only watch helplessly as she walked away.

Having failed to bring her over, he didn’t dare go back and could only wait.

When Song Yu still didn’t see her, he called. “Are you dead?”

Liu Chen cleared his throat. “Sir, Secretary An is… still busy. She couldn’t step away.”

The call ended abruptly.

Moments later, the office door swung open, and Song Yu strode out.

“Where is she?”

Liu Chen pointed toward the conference room. “Over there.”

Through the glass wall, Song Yu’s gaze met An He’s. One look was all it took to dissolve whatever defiance she had left.

She set down her folder and obediently followed him.

He said nothing, turning back toward his office. She trailed several steps behind.

The others exchanged curious glances until Liu Chen barked, “What are you all staring at? Get back to work.”

As they lowered their heads, Song Yu and An He disappeared into the office, and the door shut behind them.

“Mr. Song, you—”

Before she could finish, he lifted her onto the desk, gripping her chin and forcing her to look at him. “Why didn’t you come?”

She gasped lightly. “I was busy.”

“Busy?” He tightened his hold. “Busier than me?”

Of course not—how could a secretary ever be busier than the CEO?

“Next time you lie, come up with something better,” he said coldly.

“I wasn’t hiding,” she protested softly.

“No?” He gave a short, mocking laugh. “You think I don’t know you, Hehe?”

He knew her better than anyone. He could read her from a single glance.

“Song Yu, you’re hurting me.” She gripped his wrist. “Let go.”

“I will—if you tell me why.”

“I already told you. I was busy,” she murmured, eyes flickering.

She was never good at lying; he caught her immediately.

“You think I believe that?”

“Believe what you want,” she said, lowering her gaze. The weight in her chest grew heavier, suffocating.

Like drowning in the sea.

“Look at me.”

She was forced to meet his eyes.

“I’ll ask you one more time—what happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“An He!” he snapped. “You’re really not going to talk?”

Talk about what?

Ask him why he cheated?

She didn’t dare.

Like an ostrich, she buried her head in the sand, forcing herself not to think.

Otherwise, she might die from the pain.

“Song Yu, I really was working,” she whispered. “I wasn’t avoiding you.”

He studied her for a long moment, then said, “You’re being disobedient again.”

When he was angry, he liked to punish her. Brutally.

The sound of fabric tearing filled the air.

“Not here,” she pleaded, holding his hand. “This is the office.”

“So what?” His dark eyes glinted dangerously. “It’s not like it’s the first time.”

“Didn’t you enjoy it last time?”

Her eyelashes trembled. “Do you have to talk like that?”

Did he have to crush her dignity beneath his words?

“It was you who forced me—”

“Yes,” he interrupted coldly, “and I’ll keep saying it. Remember, a caged bird doesn’t have the right to refuse.”

He bit down on her neck.

The pain came sharp and searing. She gasped.

Madman.

In everyone else’s eyes, Song Yu was the bright, untouchable star—elegant, dazzling. But to An He, he was a demon cloaked in the night—cruel and bloodthirsty.

It hurt.

Half an hour later, An He stepped out of the office.

Her eyes were rimmed red, her cheeks flushed.

She tugged her collar higher to hide the marks and returned to her desk as if nothing had happened.

Her colleague Zhang approached, noticing her pale face. “An He, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“If you’re not feeling well, you should see a doctor.”

“Alright.”

Zhang grinned sheepishly. “Actually, I wanted to ask for a favor. My boyfriend and I are having lunch, but I can’t finish my work in time. Could you maybe…”

“Leave it to me,” An He said gently. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you, you’re such a sweetheart,” Zhang said with relief. “I’ll bring you some dessert later.”

“No need. I don’t have much of an appetite.”

“Are you sick?”

“Just didn’t sleep well last night.”

She nodded toward the hallway. “The supervisor’s coming.”

Zhang scrambled back to her seat.

An He rubbed her sore waist and kept working. When she finally looked up, she realized everyone else had already gone to lunch.

She had no appetite anyway. She made herself some coffee and went back to her desk.

As Song Yu walked by, giving instructions to Liu Chen, his gaze caught on her bent figure at her desk. His brow furrowed. “What time is it? Why is she still here?”

Liu Chen checked his watch. “She must’ve lost track of time, sir. Should I remind her?”

Remembering her tear-streaked face from earlier, Song Yu’s mood darkened. Since she didn’t want him near her, why should he care?

Let her starve then.

“No.”

Liu Chen, baffled, rubbed his nose. “Secretary An’s probably just trying to do a good job for you, sir. She’s the most diligent, kind secretary I’ve ever seen. I—”

“You know her that well?” Song Yu interrupted sharply.

Liu Chen immediately shook his head. “Not at all. Not even a little.”

“Go buy her some porridge from Zhou Ji.”

“Right away, sir.”

Zhou Ji was the most famous congee shop in Beijing—so popular it required reservations. And it was more than thirty minutes round trip from the Song Group headquarters.

By the time Liu Chen returned with the porridge, An He blinked in surprise. “This is…?”

“Mr. Song asked me to get it for you.”

Warmth spread through her chest. “Where is he?”

“He’s meeting with the head of Xingye Bank.”

An He was easy to soothe. One bowl of porridge, and she’d managed to comfort herself. That afternoon, she went to his office of her own accord and knocked on the door.

What followed was inevitable—breathless, heart-racing.

Pressed against him, she trembled as he kissed her deeply. “Will you behave now?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

He trailed his hand down her waist. “Next time you make me angry, I’ll do this—”

He pinched hard, making her gasp. “I won’t,” she promised through tears.

“Come here. I want to kiss you.”

She lifted her chin, letting him kiss her as he pleased.

As for those text messages… she pretended she’d never seen them.