Empire of Desire: An Alpha’s Financial Reign - Chapter 8

As the end of the year approached, festive decorations began to line the streets, and a joyful anticipation filled the air. While most people looked forward to ringing in the New Year with their loved ones, Han Zaijing felt a quiet gloom settling in her heart.

The Ni family had made plans to travel to the United States for the holidays, driven by business obligations. Ni Jia’s parents needed to assess their company’s overseas branches and meet with partners abroad.

What was meant to be a celebration of warmth and togetherness now meant separation—at least for Han Zaijing.

She had always associated the New Year with renewal and reunion. But this year, it would be different. This year, Ni Jia wouldn’t be by her side.

The day of departure arrived faster than expected. Ni Jia gave Han Zaijing one last hug at the airport. It was brief, but meaningful. “Take care of yourself while I’m gone,” she said with a smile, though her eyes glimmered with the same reluctance Zaijing felt.

That night, Han Zaijing lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. Sleep evaded her like a shadow in the dark. Her thoughts kept circling around Ni Jia—her laughter, the warmth of her hand, the sound of her voice. The house felt emptier without her presence.

Unable to bear the silence, Han Zaijing messaged her: “Are you there yet?”

The reply came swiftly.

“Zaijing, I’ve just arrived in the U.S. It’s freezing here! Don’t forget to eat well, and don’t overwork yourself, okay?”

Reading Ni Jia’s message was like feeling a bit of sunshine during a bitter winter. Her voice soon followed over the phone, soft and reassuring.

“Are you having trouble sleeping again?” Ni Jia asked knowingly.

Zaijing let out a sheepish laugh. “I just… can’t sleep unless I hear your voice.”

“Then I’ll talk to you every night until you fall asleep,” Ni Jia said gently. Her voice, like velvet, soothed the ache in Zaijing’s chest. Though oceans apart, they were still tethered by something invisible and strong.

In the following days, Ni Jia shared snippets of her trip abroad. She visited Yosemite National Park and was awed by the towering redwoods. She wandered the glittering streets of Los Angeles, marveling at the Walk of Fame and snapping pictures in front of famous landmarks. She went to Disneyland and sent Han Zaijing a photo of her grinning in front of Sleeping Beauty’s Castle.

“Look! I wore the Minnie ears you said would look silly on me. They were actually kind of cute.”

Zaijing replied with a laughing emoji. “You’re always cute, silly or not.”

But beneath her playful tone was a deep yearning. With every photo and message Ni Jia sent, Zaijing felt a tug in her heart. She longed to be there beside her, experiencing those moments firsthand rather than through a screen.

“I wish I could be there with you,” she texted one night.

“Me too,” Ni Jia responded, her words tinged with the same longing. “Next time, let’s go together. Just the two of us.”

That simple promise lit a spark of hope in Zaijing’s chest.

Meanwhile, back in Huaxin University, life went on. The campus was quieter during the break, but Han Zaijing kept herself occupied. Her business competition team had made it to the finals, and every day was spent working late in the lab, fine-tuning presentations and fixing bugs in their demo.

“Zaijing, the project’s finally stable,” her teammate Liang Zheng said with enthusiasm. “The judges are going to love this.”

She smiled, though her mind drifted to the one person she wished could see her progress. Ni Jia’s unwavering support echoed in her thoughts during every challenging moment. It was her voice that Zaijing imagined encouraging her when exhaustion crept in.

Each night, they would talk—sometimes about serious matters, but mostly about nothing and everything. One night, as fireworks burst across the sky to celebrate the countdown to the New Year, Zaijing found herself sitting alone by her bedroom window.

The bright lights filled the sky, but her heart remained heavy. Picking up her phone, she dialed the familiar number.

“Jia Jia,” she said softly when the call connected. “I can’t sleep again.”

Ni Jia chuckled lightly on the other end. “Is this your daily bedtime call?”

“It is. I’m spoiled now,” Zaijing said, pretending to pout. “Your voice is hypnotic. Maybe you were a sleep therapist in your past life.”

Ni Jia rolled her eyes, though Zaijing couldn’t see it. “Well, I hope my voice puts you to sleep and not the other kind of spell.”

Zaijing grinned. “You have no idea.”

Her voice became softer, more intimate. “You know… if I were next to you right now, I’d hold you tight. Maybe whisper something just to make your ear tingle.”

There was a pause. Then: “Or maybe I’d nibble your ear.”

Ni Jia’s breath hitched. A rush of heat crept up her neck. “W-what are you saying, you little pervert?”

Zaijing laughed but kept her voice low and teasing. “Am I making it hard for you to sleep too?”

“You’re impossible,” Ni Jia muttered, but there was no real anger in her voice—only affection, mixed with something unspoken, something that trembled on the edge of desire.

“Should I hang up then?” Zaijing asked playfully.

“No! Don’t!” Ni Jia answered too quickly.

The line went quiet for a moment, filled only with the sound of their breathing.

“I used to hate getting up early,” Ni Jia said softly. “But when I knew you’d bring me coffee every morning, it suddenly became my favorite part of the day. Now, lying here in bed, I find it hard to hang up the phone. Because of you.”

Zaijing’s heart ached and fluttered all at once. She buried her face into her pillow to stifle a giddy laugh.

“Jia Jia… you’re making this really hard for me to be just your friend,” she mumbled.

“I know,” Ni Jia whispered. “It’s hard for me too.”

The confession hung in the air, delicate and powerful.

Neither of them said anything more after that. The silence was no longer uncomfortable—it was full, heavy with all the words they couldn’t yet say.

Eventually, Ni Jia’s breathing grew slower, more rhythmic.

“Are you asleep?” Zaijing whispered.

A quiet hum. “Not yet. But with you here, it’s easier.”

She didn’t hang up the call. Neither did Zaijing.

As the New Year fireworks faded from the sky, Han Zaijing lay back, her phone still pressed to her ear, Ni Jia’s breath still audible in the receiver. And for the first time in days, sleep came easily.

Though distance separated them physically, their hearts remained stitched together by every whisper, every late-night confession, and every promise of tomorrows they would face together.