Marked by My Scummy Ex-Wife’s Boss (GL) - Chapter 27

When Zhu Sui draped the shawl around Song Zhen—who no longer knew what she was doing—her fingers brushed against bare skin. Song Zhen flinched, and a thin film of tears welled up again in her eyes.

Zhu Sui’s movement paused. She suppressed the growing restlessness in her chest, wrapped an arm around Song Zhen’s waist, and gently led her outside.

“I just went out to ask my cousin to gather the guests in the living room. We’ll slip out through the garden and leave by the back gate. The housekeeper already brought the car around.”

She paused, her voice softening into a gentle coax.

“Just hold on a bit longer, jiejie. Everything will be better once we’re in the car.”

Once in the car, they’d head to her apartment. It had a private elevator from the underground garage, so even if a little pheromone scent leaked during the ride, they’d be home before it became a problem.

Song Zhen nodded, eyes glassy and bright. Her apricot-shaped eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and Zhu Sui couldn’t help but glance again.

That tiny teardrop-shaped beauty mark near her inner eye—normally hidden so close to the lash line and barely visible—was now plain as day.

Only in moments like these, face to face, would anyone notice it. Intimate moments meant for lovers.

The thought that she alone had discovered this little secret gave Zhu Sui a quiet sense of possessive joy. She suppressed the urge to look again and turned away, pulling Song Zhen along.

On the way, Song Zhen bit her lip hard, afraid she might make a humiliating sound.

Zhu Yi had done as promised. They didn’t encounter a single person along the way. At the back door, a housekeeper waved from afar.

Zhu Sui exchanged a few quiet words with them, then helped Song Zhen into the car.

As she buckled her in, she noticed the faint trembling. “Are you feeling really bad?”

Song Zhen shook her head, but Zhu Sui wasn’t convinced. She reached out to check, but as soon as she did, Song Zhen’s expression shifted dramatically—and just then, a wave of thick citrus scent hit Zhu Sui’s nose.

She froze.

Embarrassed, Song Zhen turned her head away and bit her lip.

That scent…

She had…

Only a moment later did Zhu Sui connect the dots—and chuckled softly.

Utterly humiliated, Song Zhen realized her dress had grown damp. She covered her face with the shawl and wanted to disappear on the spot.

Zhu Sui didn’t tease. She started the engine.

After pulling out onto the road, she whispered, “We’re going home now, jiejie.”

While Zhu Sui was driving, Cheng Lang was also in her car—but she had just parked.

With the engine off, she slammed the door shut and lit a cigarette in the dark.

She wasn’t a heavy smoker. She’d picked up the habit during her research years—not out of passion for science like Song Zhen, who grew more energized the harder things got. No, Cheng Lang got sleepy when it got late. But when the pressure was high and results were due overnight, a cigarette helped.

It was minty and light. Just a stimulant.

She’d also been battling insomnia lately.

There were sleeping pills, but they didn’t seem to be working anymore. Still, she couldn’t increase the dosage—her doctor had warned against it, urging her to try exercise instead.

But Cheng Lang didn’t like crowded gyms. And so, she just let it be.

She knew full well the problem wasn’t research. Not even the Z-serum project.

It never had been.

She exhaled into the night, then crushed the cigarette halfway through and tossed it.

Looking up, she realized she wasn’t just anywhere—she had come to the residential complex behind the military hospital. Song Zhen’s place.

They needed to talk.

She’d originally wanted to delay this conversation… but Song Zhen had always been more decisive. More fearless. She’d been like that since they were young.

Thinking back on recent events, Cheng Lang shook her head. She didn’t want to dwell on it anymore. She walked into the complex.

In the elevator, she rehearsed what to say—how to open.

But when she reached the door and saw it wide open, with a group of strangers exiting the apartment, none of that mattered.

“Who are you people?” she asked, confused.

“Ah, and you are…?”

“I live here,” Cheng Lang replied, pointing at the unit. “That’s my apartment. You’re…”

The woman in a black suit hesitated, glanced at her clipboard, then confirmed, “Isn’t the registered owner Song Zhen?”

“Yes,” Cheng Lang said. “She owns it. I’m here to see her.”

The woman had clearly seen situations like this before. She asked gently, “You haven’t been living here recently, right?”

Cheng Lang frowned, grunting a reluctant confirmation.

The woman smiled. “Well, I’m a realtor. Two weeks ago, we were commissioned to sell this unit. We’ve shown it a few times already. Would you…”

She had no interest in Cheng Lang’s relationship with the owner.

But Cheng Lang’s heart skipped a beat. “She… sold it?”

“Yes. We have the signed authorization if you’d like to see it.”

The letter was pulled out, and Cheng Lang recognized Song Zhen’s signature at a glance.

She fell silent.

“…Can I go inside and look around?” she asked.

The agent didn’t mind and gestured politely.

Inside, the home had already been stripped of all familiarity. Everything personal was gone. Even the tablecloths had been packed away. It was clean, empty, unrecognizable.

Cheng Lang suddenly felt like her arrival was a joke.

So, it was true.

She had already sold it.

This was their marital home.

So, she really—

Cheng Lang shut her eyes. Her brow furrowed tightly. A piercing headache struck her temples.

________________________________________

By the time they got home, Zhu Sui had to carry Song Zhen inside.

Her first heat was unlike that of any other Omega—fierce and unrelenting. At first, Zhu Sui’s pheromones managed to suppress the scent, but not long after they left, it surged back stronger than ever. Zhu Sui didn’t dare roll down the windows.

Even in the garage, Song Zhen twitched and whimpered whenever Zhu Sui touched her. She kept trying to hide.

Only after Zhu Sui explained things did Song Zhen finally relax.

But that calm lasted only until they entered the home. Zhu Sui laid her gently on the sofa, went to adjust her shawl—only for Song Zhen to cling to it tighter.

Confused, Zhu Sui looked up—and saw her flushed cheeks, burning red from heat and… shame.

Song Zhen’s voice was barely audible, trembling on the edge of tears. “It’s… awful.”

“My skirt… it’s wet.”

“Don’t… don’t look.”

Zhu Sui froze, then politely stepped back. After a moment’s thought, she spoke gently:

“Then why don’t you freshen up a little first? I’ll change the sheets to silk ones… Omegas are extra sensitive during this time. Tonight, maybe don’t wear pajamas…”

Otherwise, the fabric rubbing against her would only make it worse.

Song Zhen gave a tiny nod.

Zhu Sui went into the bedroom. The ventilation system was already running. Thankfully, she’d prepared in advance, knowing Song Zhen would move in eventually. The silk bedding had been ready for a while—she just hadn’t expected to need it so soon.

As she made the bed, she heard the shower running.

Song Zhen had gone to clean herself up.

She returned, cheeks still red, wrapped in a towel.

Zhu Sui spoke a few words, but seeing that Song Zhen wanted privacy, she quietly left the room.

The citrus scent lingered through the apartment. When Zhu Sui went to wash up herself, her body reacted too. Not in heat—but her instincts, as a marked Alpha, stirred at the presence of an Omega’s scent.

She found herself imagining what it would be like… to taste it.

An Omega’s pheromones, especially when released through the skin, were incredibly sweet to an Alpha.

In her eyes, Song Zhen had become a ripe, juicy mandarin.

Even after a shower, Zhu Sui couldn’t sleep. She picked up a book to distract herself.

But not long after, she heard soft crying.

She’d told herself not to go in again.

But the sound persisted. Eventually, she couldn’t help it. A few minutes later, she opened the door.

The moment she stepped in, a wave of citrus pheromones overwhelmed her, making her instincts flare.

Inside, Song Zhen was curled up in bed, whimpering.

“Jiejie?”

No answer.

“I’m turning on the light, okay?”

“Don’t… don’t turn it on… please…” came the soft reply, choked with sobs.

Zhu Sui obeyed, entering without turning on the light. Dim hallway light slanted across the bed, revealing the flush on Song Zhen’s face.

Zhu Sui reached out—but as soon as she did, Song Zhen’s body tensed. The thin bedsheet outlined her form perfectly.

Right—she’d told her not to wear pajamas.

So underneath… there was nothing.

In the dark, Zhu Sui’s voice grew low and coaxing. “Jiejie… what’s wrong?”

Song Zhen didn’t answer. Zhu Sui asked again.

This time, she broke down and cried. “I… I keep… leaking. I can’t stop it…”

She clamped her legs together, utterly humiliated.

“You need release,” Zhu Sui said softly. Song Zhen couldn’t see her face.

“Can you do it yourself?”

Song Zhen sobbed in response.

Zhu Sui sighed. Her voice became even gentler in the dark.

“You didn’t like my nails, did you…?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”

She paused.

“I’ll use my tongue.”

________________________________________

In the dark of Song Zhen’s room, the night air cloaked everything. Two pheromones intertwined.

Song Zhen had begged Zhu Sui not to help—but to no avail. When it hit, she shivered…

And tears welled up again.

Zhu Sui finally raised her head, her lips wet and glistening in the dim light. That moisture wasn’t hers.

She licked her lips, tongue vivid and red.

“You know… Alphas love the taste of Omega pheromones…”

She paused, lips curling into a smile. Her breath tickled the air.

“Jiejie… you’re so sweet.”