The Mafia's Rose Married The CEO

While the commotion was happening inside the Qing's residence, Wuming was still in the hotel room.

He fished his phone from his pants, which were on the floor. He saw that it was Qing Lok who was calling him. "What's up?" he answered, breathless.

"Where are you?"

Wuming sat up at the sound of his brother's grave voice. "Is everything okay?"

"We've… we've learned something about Mother."

"Okay, what is it?" Wuming was ready to leave when he heard that Qing Lok was sniffling. He was crying but it was not a happy cry. "What's wrong?"

"Wuming… she's not dead."

Wuming was more surprised that he was not surprised. People disappeared all the time. Hell, he disappeared himself. One day he was a member of the highest society of Chengshi and then the next he was just gone. His father erased all his traces like he never existed.

With the way that the clues were leading somewhere, it was one of the things that Wuming already expected. 

"How are you doing?" asked Wuming.

"I'm fine," he said and sniffed again. "I'm fine. It's just a mess right now."

"I'm going home."

"No!" said Qing Lok. "Stay where you are. Chen's a mess too." His brother offered a chuckle. "Go be a mess somewhere. We got too much in this house. I'll see you when you get home. Slash a few heads for us."

Wuming ran a hand through his hair. "Okay. I'll be home by tomorrow morning."

The call ended.

The Mistress' arm wrapped on Wuming's chest. "What do you mean tomorrow morning? What's going on at your house?"

"Someone came back from the dead."

The Mistress smiled down at him. "Don't they always?"

On that Wuming smiled back. "I shouldn't have slept with you."

"Yeah, you shouldn't have. But I don't think you regret it."

Wuming looked within his chest and found no regret. "That was fun."

The Mistress leaned down and pressed a kiss on his lips. "It was better than my fantasies."

"IT WAS NOTHING LIKE YOUR FANTASY."

The Mistress shook her head and their noses bumped. "It is everything I wanted from you. There are two fantasies. I like the slower one better."

Wuming pushed himself to his elbows. "You're in love with me."

The Mistress scoffed with mirth. "What?! I am so not in love with you."

Despite the situation at home, Wuming found himself laughing as he fell down to his pillows. His hands rubbed his face. "You are in love with me. When did this happen? Last year? Two years ago? Were we already friends three years ago?"

The Mistress sat up with a shocked look on her face as she slapped Wuming's arm. "I am not in love with you. And yes, we were already friends three years ago."

"Oh man, this is the juiciest of your stories yet."

"What made you think I am in love with you?"

Wuming sat up and pressed in between her furrowed eyebrows. "Why? It's because you fantasized me making love to you. Not the rough s.e.x. But making love. For real."

The Mistress jerked her face away when he made a move to touch her. "I am not in love with you."

"How long have you been fantasizing about me?" Wuming felt guilty pressing her with these questions but he wanted to know. 

"Okay," said The Mistress. "While I still have some of my dignity, I will tell you the truth. It hadn't been long since I started fantasizing about you." She turned her face away again and down, like she was embarrassed. "I think… I think it was when you took me to dinner the last time I was in town." She shifted slightly and munched on her soft lips. "But I think it was longer than that because when you thought I was Camille when I called you then��� it hurt, just a tiny bit."

Wuming smiled. "You have a crush on me."

The Mistress rolled her eyes. "I know a lot of assassins, women and men, who have a crush on you. And most of them hadn't even met you in person."

"They want me because I'm number one in the field. Deep inside, I think what they really want is to kill me and take my place. The same goes for you." Wuming turned to the telephone. "What do you want to eat? You have me until morning."

"Addison."

"Sorry, what?"

"Addison."

Was that…? Wuming straightened up and looked at her.

"My name's Addison," she pursed her lips but she never took her eyes off his. "Since I know your real name, I thought you would like to know mine."

"Beautiful name." Wuming held her hands. "I didn't ask because I didn't want you to think that I am obligating you to say anything about your personal life to me just because you already knew mine. Our identity is the one thing that matters to us. It gets out and we're dead. I don't mind you knowing about me and my story. I can cover me and family's ass."

"And I got no one," said Addison. She smiled and Wuming thought that her name suited her, just for this moment. She was sweet and happy. "I trust you."

"Of course," Wuming nodded at her. "But if I'm going to be honest, you look like you're a Roxy or a Natalie. Something with an -y sound at the end."

"Because Addison is not a name for an assassin?" she laughed.

Wuming shook his head. "It's a name for a girl who lives in a huge gated house in the tallest hill." Addison did not say anything. "Shit, are you loaded?"

Addison traced a finger on his cheek. "Do you know why they call me The Mistress?"

"I've always wondered why you were called that," answered Wuming feeling a little nervous.

"It's because…" she said and traced her long nail at the length of his throat. "I am The Mistress of The Devil."