Quick Transmigration: Yandere Male Leads? Hand 'Em Over! - Chapter 88

After that scandalous night at Weiming Villa, Cen Leyi was grounded by her adoptive parents and forbidden from leaving the house.

She kept throwing tantrums, demanding to see Gu Beichen, until Father Cen finally lost patience and, for the first time, delivered a harsh ultimatum.

“If you step one foot out that door today, then you’re no longer my daughter, Cen Wenxuan’s daughter!”

That scared her half to death. Her birth father was only the family chauffeur, and her biological mother worked for the Cens as a maid—if she left, where would she even go?

After that outburst, Cen Leyi calmed down a bit. She locked herself in her room, waiting day and night, hoping Gu Beichen would soon come to marry her and take her away.

But days passed… and not a single word came from the Gu family.

Even so, after raising her for over twenty years, Mother Cen’s heart still ached. No matter how shameful her behavior had been, she couldn’t bear to see Leyi spiraling like this.

“Leyi, there’s an auction in a few days. Come with me to get some fresh air. Didn’t you say you wanted a set of sapphire jewelry?”

But Cen Leyi wasn’t moved at all. Her eyes were cold, wary, and full of hostility as she stared at Cen Zhixi.

“Is she going too? If she’s going, I’m not.”

Mother Cen’s face tightened, caught in a dilemma. She already owed Zhixi far too much—how could she justify taking the adopted daughter out while leaving her own biological child behind?

With a sigh, she said, “Zhixi’s going. Leyi, just rest at home. If there’s anything you want, I’ll bid on it and bring it back for you.”

Back in her room, Cen Leyi’s frustration only grew.

Why could Cen Zhixi go when she couldn’t?

If she didn’t go to the auction, wouldn’t she be handing all the good stuff over to Zhixi? That girl was always so good at sucking up to their parents—she couldn’t let them spend time alone together.

Cen Leyi searched up the auction information. The catalog listed several top-tier pieces: fine jewelry and uncut gemstones. Even the starting prices were sky-high.

All those luxury items? In her past life, they had belonged to her.

In her previous life, not long after marrying Bo Qi’an, she heard rumors that Gu Beichen was going to marry Cen Zhixi. In a fit of jealousy, she barged into their engagement party and caused a huge scene—Bo Qi’an had been furious.

He dragged her to an auction just like this one, didn’t care whether she wanted to be there or not, bought every piece of jewelry, and ordered her to wear a different set each day.

Hah. What did Bo Qi’an even know?

The jewelry Zhixi wore at the engagement party had been heirlooms passed down through the Gu family—how could these vulgar things you could simply buy with money compare?

Maybe because the rose-tinted glasses had shattered, Cen Leyi didn’t feel as obsessed with Gu Beichen as she had in her last life. In fact, she even found herself thinking…

Gu Beichen’s disgusting, spineless, and pathetic. I’d rather be a rich widow married to Bo Qi’an. At least he’s got money, power, and influence. No one would dare mess with me.

Thinking of Bo Qi’an’s dominance and control made her heart stir. She changed her mind.

She had to go to this auction.

Not only go—but also make sure to crush Cen Zhixi’s smug little face. She’d show her what real high society looked like.

People always seemed to have boundless energy when they were up to no good.

Cen Leyi was full of anticipation, counting the days until the auction. She’d completely forgotten how Bo Qi’an had had her thrown out of the villa not long ago.

But even if she did remember, she’d probably just chalk it up to jealousy. After all, what man could tolerate being publicly humiliated by his wife?

In her past life, she had used this trick repeatedly—bringing home different men to make Bo Qi’an lose his mind. It worked every time.

So this time, she was sure of it: all she had to do was give Bo Qi’an the slightest taste of sweetness, and he’d come crawling back like a dog in heat.

On the Nth day of living together with his wife,

Bo Qi’an had fully settled into his role as husband.

Even though his wife still occasionally went out without telling him who she was seeing, he didn’t dare ask.

He was terrified that even a small question might shatter the fragile happiness they’d finally built.

Why is my wife so soft and so sweet? Every night, he wished he could turn into a wolf and devour her whole—bite by bite, slowly and completely.

Maybe it was compensation for his lacking childhood, but Bo Qi’an especially loved whispering bedtime stories while doing all sorts of things to his wife, shamelessly begging for praise.

“How did I do, my love?”

Every time, Su Ci would ruffle his sweat-damp hair, kiss his tightly pressed lips, and whisper:

“No one’s better than my husband.”

She spoiled him terribly.

Whatever love and care the Bo family had failed to give him in the past, Su Ci now made up for—thoughtfully and thoroughly. She even gave him things most people wouldn’t think necessary:

• • • • The first bouquet of flowers she ever gave to her husband.

• • • • A custom-designed wedding ring she made for him herself.

• • • • The first sweet seasonal drink of the year, brought home just for him.

• • • • A homemade candlelit dinner, cooked by her hands…

…Though the candlelit dinner got cut short.

Bo Qi’an had seen on the security feed that his wife entered the kitchen and picked up a knife to prep something. He’d broken into a cold sweat, canceled two international meetings, and sped home in a panic. He swept Su Ci out of the kitchen and locked her in the bedroom before delivering a heartfelt lecture:

“My love, if you want something, can’t you just ask the chef? There are knives and flames in there—it’s dangerous. Our house has rules: no women in the kitchen. Promise me you’ll take care of these hands…”

Afterward, Butler Wu said nothing. He simply added “Women are not allowed in the kitchen” to the household rules.

Though, it wasn’t absolute. If Su Ci really insisted on cooking, Bo Qi’an would follow her around like a personal bodycam—eyes wide open, not daring to blink.

Despite how indulgent Su Ci was—enough to give even newlyweds a sugar rush—Bo Qi’an’s anxiety never seemed to fade.

In fact, it was getting worse.

He spent more and more time working from home. Sometimes, he’d pretend to leave for the office, then sneak back through the rear entrance and hide in the study, working remotely while watching the house through the security monitors.

Every time Su Ci went out, he would quietly watch her from the window, shadows pooling in his dark eyes like a stormcloud ready to burst.

It was just another ordinary morning.

Bo Qi’an woke from a nightmare, his eyes unfocused as he stared at the ceiling. The scenes from his dream still clung to his mind, leaving his heart pounding and his breath shaky. He tightened his arms around his wife.

Su Ci hadn’t fully woken up. She nuzzled against his chest, voice groggy and husky.

“Morning… hubby.”

“Mm. It’s still early. Go back to sleep, my love.”

He let out a long breath and kissed her gently between the brows before getting up, full of renewed purpose. Then he called his assistant to retrieve the custom-made suit he’d ordered.

That afternoon, Su Ci received a delivery: the tailored gown, matching jewelry, shoes—and a uniquely designed half-face mask.

Butler Wu arrived, smiling.

“Young Madam, there’s an auction tonight. The Young Master thought you might like some of the raw gemstones on offer, so he wants to take you.”

It had been a while since Su Ci went out.

Every time she’d gone shopping with Xiaotao, Bo Qi’an never said anything outright. But come nighttime, he’d be especially aggressive—as if he were punishing her with possessiveness.

She didn’t mind staying home; it was cozy and peaceful. But now that he wanted to take her out, did that mean… he was getting better?

After changing into the gown, Su Ci remembered she’d left some design sketches in the study and wanted to bring them along to compare at the auction. But when she opened the door—

The CEO who supposedly “left for work early this morning” was still there.

And the screen on the projector?
It wasn’t showing financial reports, business proposals, or stock analysis.

It was showing high-definition surveillance feeds…

Of every corner of their villa.