Let Her Lose Control - Chapter 1

Su Ningyue hadn’t expected the Su Ning Merchant Guild to find her so quickly—just twenty-one hours after her escape.

The hotel room door swung open without warning. The manager, still in uniform, swiped a room key through the master switch. Under the warm glow of the crystal chandelier, Su Ningyue’s groggy, just-awakened confusion was laid bare.

As her vision cleared, she saw the manager step aside, allowing the light to fall on the familiar face behind him.

Su Ningshang stood there, still wearing the suit from the awards ceremony, white velvet gloves on her hands, her gently curled hair cascading in an elegant arc across her chest. Her dark, jade-like eyes met Su Ningyue’s gaze.

The manager and the accompanying bodyguard discreetly withdrew, and the door clicked shut. High heels stopped at the edge of the pristine white bed. Su Ningyue heard Su Ningshang call her name: “Ningning.”

Su Ningyue snapped fully awake, her fingers clenching tightly on the blanket.

She had fled in haste, without a change of clothes. The wrinkled neckline of her sleep-worn T-shirt had slipped to one side, revealing a patch of delicate skin beneath her collarbone, flushed with a blush like smudged rouge, stark against her pale complexion.

It looked like a mark deliberately left behind.

As the one who had left the mark, Su Ningshang’s stern expression finally softened slightly when she saw the hickey. “It’s Friday,” she said calmly. “Why aren’t you at school?”

Her voice was even, like a casual question from an older sister finding her truant younger sister, without any harsh reprimand.

After all, Su Ningyue hadn’t even bothered to be discreet about running away from home, fleeing Cloud City only to check into a five-star hotel. With just a little investigation, Su Ningshang had easily tracked down her room number and brazenly had someone open the door.

A tense standoff hung in the air for a few seconds. Knowing she couldn’t avoid the confrontation, Su Ningyue threw back the covers and sat up.

Before she could offer an explanation, Su Ningshang’s arm tightened around her waist, turning her around to sit face-to-face on her lap. The skin on her inner thighs rubbed against the sheets, causing a slight sting.

A cool, crisp scent of white musk enveloped her, mingled with a faint, almost imperceptible sweetness of fruity fragrance—a scent Su Ningshang never usually wore.

Su Ningyue immediately struggled to get down. “I…”

Their eyes met, and Su Ningyue’s panic was palpable. Su Ningshang slowly removed her gloves, lowering her voice. “I don’t recall ever teaching you that skipping school was acceptable, did I?”

Su Ningshang gave her no chance to escape, wrapping her arm around Su Ningyue’s waist and pulling her close. The scorching heat of her palm pressed through the T-shirt against the small of Su Ningyue’s back, sending a dangerous signal.

In an instant, Su Ningyue recalled the last time Su Ningshang had pinned her against the windowsill, her hand gripping her waist as she kissed her.

A vibrant Alice Rose, blooming profusely, slipped from her hair, its petals scattering and staining the corner of her eye with vivid, surreal hues.

Su Ningyue closed her eyes, desperately trying to erase that memory from her mind.

But before she could concoct a plausible excuse, Su Ningshang’s hand slid beneath her T-shirt, moving downward. Panicking, Su Ningyue blurted out, “I didn’t do well on the Monthly Exam. I don’t want to go to school.”

As a senior in high school, Su Ningyue had consistently ranked among the top ten in her grade during the initial mock exams. Maintaining this performance would allow her to choose any university in the country.

While skipping school over one poor test result might seem excessive, it was understandable given the intense pressure of the final stretch before graduation.

As expected, Su Ningshang loosened her grip on Su Ningyue’s waist, her warm palm gliding upward from her back to gently soothe her tense spine. “Then take a few days at home to recover. I’ll get you excused from school.”

Su Ningyue nodded stiffly, a flicker of bitterness crossing her face as she lowered her gaze.

She no longer had a home.

Su Ningshang was ten years her senior and had practically raised her single-handedly. For years, Su Ningyue had taken Su Ningshang’s life as her own—just as their similar names instantly connected them in the eyes of outsiders.

But a car accident changed everything. A couple, bleeding profusely, fought for their lives while the hospital’s bl00d supply ran critically low. Their daughter, Jiang Jinsui, pleaded with Su Ningyue for help, only to be told that despite their matching bl00d types, their bl00d compatibility was too low for a transfusion. This revelation exposed a mistake made seventeen years earlier: Su Ningyue was not the Su Family’s daughter. Jiang Jinsui, whose parents had been in the accident, was Su Ningshang’s true sister.

The events unfolded with shocking speed. Before Su Ningyue could process this upheaval, news arrived that the rescue efforts in the emergency room had failed.

To handle the funeral arrangements legitimately, Su Ningyue had transferred her household registration out of the Su Family’s records. However, after raising her for so many years, the Su Family’s bond with her was too strong to be severed by mere bl00d ties. Ultimately, Su Ningshang made the decision: Jiang Jinsui would be raised by the Su Family Parents, while Su Ningyue would stay with Su Ningshang.

This old story had already spread throughout the hospital and couldn’t be suppressed. For a time, it became the talk of the upper-class circles, with all eyes on Su Ningyue as everyone speculated how the Su Family would dispose of their “fake heiress.”

The rumors gradually subsided only after Su Ningshang took Su Ningyue under her wing and kept her close. After all, since Su Ningshang had repeatedly expanded the Su Family’s entertainment empire and their financial reports had topped the charts for five consecutive years, she had become the true power holder of the Su Family. Her stance carried more authority than even that of the Su Family Parents.

Without waiting for Su Ningyue’s consent, Su Ningshang picked up her phone and called her assistant: “Request a leave of absence from school for her. Let’s start with a week. If her homeroom teacher asks about her poor performance on the Monthly Exam, just say there’s a family matter.”

As Su Ningshang spoke, she gently stroked Su Ningyue’s hair. Ningyue’s hair was incredibly soft, and her mother used to say that people with soft hair also had gentle natures, always worrying that Ningyue would be taken advantage of when she grew up. Back then, Su Ningshang had thought, “With me protecting her, who would dare bully her?”

Just like now, she could still protect Ningyue perfectly. Su Ningshang was deeply satisfied with Ningyue’s current obedience, and her expression softened considerably.

The assistant on the other end of the line asked in surprise, “Didn’t Miss Su get first place in the class on the Monthly Exam? I just received the results in my email this evening, President Su. Could there be some mistake?”

Su Ningshang’s hand, which had been stroking Ningyue’s back, slowly stilled.

The assistant continued, “President Su, do we still need to request a leave of absence from the school?”

The room fell into an unprecedented silence.

Su Ningshang rested her chin on Ningyue’s left shoulder, her nose lightly pressed against the vulnerable side of her neck. Her warm breath lingered there, causing Ningyue to clench her jaw even tighter.

Finally, Su Ningshang said, “Request it.”

The phone was tossed onto the bed. Meeting Su Ningshang’s now-darkening gaze, Ningyue realized that Su Ningshang had already guessed the real reason she had left home. Alarms blared in her mind as she shoved Su Ningshang away.

The soles of her feet touched the icy floor. She had barely taken two steps when Su Ningshang’s arms wrapped around her waist from behind.

“Ningning, you want to leave me.”

Su Ningshang’s certainty made Su Ningyue’s heart leap.

Su Ningyue had been dreading Su Ningshang discovering her escape plan, fearing she would lose control in such a situation. She had painstakingly fabricated a story about failing her exams and losing interest in school to conceal the truth, only for a single phone call to completely expose her real motives.

Unable to bear the consequences of admitting the truth, Su Ningyue stubbornly denied it. “I don’t.”

Hearing her denial, Su Ningshang bit Su Ningyue’s lower lip hard, then gripped her chin, forcing her to meet her gaze.

“I raised you with my own hands,” Su Ningshang said. “No one in this world knows you better than I do.”

At these words, Su Ningyue’s eyes reddened. Summoning courage from some unknown source, she blurted out, “We… we used to be family. If people found out about this kind of relationship, it would be bad… bad for you.”

Between ragged breaths, Su Ningyue struggled to suppress her voice, but a tremor of fear still betrayed her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll never tell anyone about us. Now that you have a new love, then—”

“New love?”

Su Ningshang’s expression remained impassive as she interrupted Su Ningyue, her gaze lifting sharply as if she had seized upon a crucial keyword.

“The newly crowned Best Actress…” Su Ningyue averted her eyes.

Same-s3x marriage was illegal in China, and the entertainment industry adhered to the unspoken rule of exposing scandals but never outing anyone. Su Ningshang had come out to her family years ago. Su Ningyue still vividly remembered the day she returned home from school to find her usually composed and mature older sister kneeling before their parents, a red handprint stark against her cheek.

When their normally calm mother raised her hand and demanded, “Will you change?” Su Ningyue rushed forward to intervene, answering for Su Ningshang without even knowing the reason for the confrontation: “Sister knows she was wrong! She’ll change! She’ll definitely change!”

Too young to understand why Su Ningshang’s “liking women” had enraged their parents so deeply, Su Ningyue pressed an ice pack to her sister’s face, her mind still grappling with the concept.

The Su Family’s business empire lay in the entertainment industry. Su Ningshang, immersed in this world of fame and fortune, had never been seen with anyone in a close relationship. As Su Ningyue grew older and realized that her parents disapproved of her “liking women,” she even speculated that it was Su Ningshang’s belated teenage rebellion, a way to defy the family.

It wasn’t until two months ago that Su Ningyue finally understood: from a purely physical standpoint, Su Ningshang’s sexual orientation was indeed female.

Due to national sensitivities, paparazzi rarely used sensational headlines like “Scandal.” Any reports of Su Ningshang’s friendly interactions with female artists under her company were interpreted as gossip only by those who knew how to read between the lines.

This was especially true of Shu Xuan, the newly crowned Best Actress. Su Ningshang had personally orchestrated Shu Xuan’s rise to fame, taking her to dinner with Su Ningyue and even bringing her to their home—a privilege no other artist had ever received.

Therefore, when Su Ningyue saw Su Ningshang and Shu Xuan standing side-by-side under the spotlight, she assumed Su Ningshang had finally found her life partner.

Following their usual routine, Su Ningshang would have been busy with post-awards ceremony engagements, giving Su Ningyue ample time to drive out of Cloud City and catch a flight abroad from another city’s airport.

Su Ningyue never expected Su Ningshang to return so quickly, let alone find her so soon.

As their eyes met, Su Ningshang gently stroked Su Ningyue’s cheek, as if seeing through the source of this farce. She chuckled softly, her fingertips tracing and kneading Su Ningyue’s earlobe. “She’s not,” she murmured.

Gazing into Su Ningshang’s eyes, Su Ningyue could easily discern her current emotions.

The Su Ningshang she knew was usually radiant and composed—rational, restrained, and strategically astute, the company’s unwavering anchor. She could effortlessly resolve even the most intractable crises.

But now, Su Ningshang leaned languidly against the headboard, her sharp, capable demeanor discarded like the gloves left behind in the news cameras’ glare. A hidden, forbidden possessiveness threatened to surface.

Su Ningyue’s voice trembled. “But…”

“No buts,” Su Ningshang cut her off.

The kiss, so close, finally landed, plunging them into darkness.

Su Ningyue’s body stiffened, then she struggled fiercely. Her hands, pushing against Su Ningshang, were easily pinned above her head. Her protests were crushed by the entwined lips and tongues.

Only when she was gasping for breath did Su Ningshang allow her a brief respite.

Wiping away the tears at the corners of Su Ningyue’s reddened eyes, Su Ningshang’s usually clear, gentle voice turned husky, laced with both tenderness and menace. “No one could ever be more important than you.”