Tan Xiang's unconcealed disdain and contempt didn't anger Song Guanchao in the slightest.

He wasn't so easily provoked.

"Stop the car," Song Guanchao said.

Shen Qing glanced in the rearview mirror, then slowly pulled the car over to the curb.

Song Guanchao got out, walked to the driver's seat, pulled open the door, and said, "Sit in the back."

Shen Qing was puzzled, stealing a look at Tan Xiang.

Tan Xiang nodded slightly. Shen Qing undid her seatbelt and got into the back seat.

Once Song Guanchao was back in the car, he floored the accelerator—the engine roared, the car shot forward like an arrow loosed from its bow.

The two women were pressed back against their seats by the sudden force.

Half an hour later, the car left the city limits.

Tan Xiang felt a faint unease, but quickly reassured herself: If Song Guanchao hadn't dropped them off at the police station, there was nothing to fear.

At four in the afternoon, the car pulled up in front of a small hotel in town.

The very same hotel he'd visited twice before with Wen Ru.

With the car parked, Song Guanchao grabbed the keys and said, "Get out."

He headed into the hotel, booked a room, and climbed the stairs.

"What does he want?" Shen Qing whispered anxiously, worry flickering in her eyes.

Clearly, she was remembering things she'd rather forget.

Tan Xiang thought of that incident too. She shook her head gently and followed without a word.

On the second floor, inside the room, Song Guanchao tossed the car keys aside, sat down, and said, "Chairman Tan, I'm going to ask you one more time—do you accept my proposal?"

Tan Xiang's face was as cold as ever: "Lin Bin is dead. I finally regained my freedom, and now you want me to be your informant at a single word? Wishful thinking."

Song Guanchao sneered: "Then you shouldn't have messed with me! You want to use me, but pay no price? The world doesn't work that way."

"You have two choices."

"Either you do what I say, become my informant, and help me make a name for myself."

"Or I give the video to Director Liang—and publicly reveal your undercover identities in the criminal world."

Every country has its laws. Every family its rules.

On the streets, nothing is more despised than an undercover agent.

Once their cover is blown, every business under their control will take a hit—nobody will work with them again.

Worse yet, they could find themselves with a death mark over their heads.

Granted, the underworld isn't as wild or as loyal as it was decades ago.

But there's always a clique of diehards.

And informants have always been the untouchable line—for both sides, cops and crooks.

Once Song Guanchao exposes them, their path forward will be cut off.

Tan Xiang fell silent, weighing her options.

Shen Qing was nowhere near as calm—her face was tense, eyes flickering repeatedly to Tan Xiang.

After a long pause, Tan Xiang made up her mind. "I can be your informant."

"But—"

She changed the subject: "I need to know the identity of your undercover."

Song Guanchao laughed, contemptuous and dismissive—a mirror of how she'd spoken in the car: "This isn't a negotiation. You have no right to bargain."

"Song Guanchao…"

"Chairman Tan, I already gave you a chance. You're too greedy, wanting everything."

"You showed no mercy—don't expect any from me."

Song Guanchao felt that he'd backed off enough at noon in the private room.

The problem was, Tan Xiang didn't trust him.

He understood her way of thinking, but understanding didn't mean agreement.

Plus, this whole mess was putting his life in danger.

When it counted, Song Guanchao was never careless.

Tan Xiang pressed her lips tightly together, emotions roiling inside her, but in the end, she still compromised.

"Fine, I agree!"

"But remember, if my identity is exposed, don't think you'll get away clean! At worst, we'll go down together!"

For Song Guanchao, that threat was utterly meaningless.

It was more like her impotent fury.

"Spare me the tough talk." Song Guanchao let out a soft laugh.

Tan Xiang said nothing more, stood up, and walked out with Shen Qing.

"Did I say you could leave?"

Tan Xiang froze, looking at him, unsure what else he wanted.

Song Guanchao stood up, his eyes cold and towering, sweeping over the two women, then gestured at his head wrapped in gauze.

"I spared you out of kindness, and you tried to take my life."

"So, Chairman Tan, how do you plan to settle this?"

Tan Xiang met his gaze with fearless calm: "Name your price."

Now that it was done, she wasn't going to make excuses.

Just like she'd said—everyone only looks out for themselves, heaven and earth be damned.

"Name a price?"

Song Guanchao sneered, suddenly reaching out to grab her collar. With a shove, her delicate body was thrown onto the bed.

Then, he looked toward Shen Qing. This time he didn't touch her, just undid his shirt buttons one by one.

Seeing his actions, the two women had already guessed what he was going to do.

The last time, it was because Song Guanchao had taken the drug, and they were the ones who drugged him.

Even when that happened, they could only accept it.

But this time, it was Song Guanchao taking the initiative.

And it was under these circumstances.

Of course, both women naturally resisted inside.

Shen Qing stepped back, "Song Guanchao, don't go too far!"

"You think you have the right to talk about 'too far' with me? Don't you find that laughable?"

Song Guanchao undid the last button, threw aside his shirt, revealing taut muscles.

As if recalling the madness of that night, Shen Qing's eyes filled with panic, backing away further and further.

Song Guanchao stepped forward, hooking her waist, his large hand sliding down and yanking off her pants, exposing her snow-white legs.

Shen Qing squeezed her legs tightly together, arms crossed protectively over her chest, but under Song Guanchao's advance, her resistance was futile.

Within moments, she was left with nothing but the barest scrap to cover herself; even her underwear was pulled up, just hanging off her arms.

He grabbed Shen Qing by the head, pushed her down between his hips, squeezed her cheeks, and forced open her red lips.

"Mmm~" Shen Qing's cheeks bulged, hands slapping desperately at his thighs, all to no avail.

Song Guanchao pressed her head down while glancing at Tan Xiang sitting on the bed, her face shocked, wrathful, and humiliated.

He let go, jerked Shen Qing upright, flung her carelessly onto the bed, then moved before Tan Xiang.

He didn't touch her, merely stared down at her quietly: "I don't like using violence against women."

Tan Xiang shot him a hateful glare, then slowly knelt, eyes squeezed shut as if resigned to her fate, pale lips gently parted.

The next second, she suddenly felt Song Guanchao enter her.

The humiliation inside her peaked, but she could not fight back.

Looking down at her little face—burning with anger and disgust—Song Guanchao's desire only flared hotter.

He grabbed her delicate face, ruthlessly thrusting a few times until he heard her retch, then finally stopped.

Then he flipped her over, her upper body lying on the bed, kneeling on the floor, and yanked off her expensive pants, revealing a round, full ass wrapped in sheer panties.

He gripped her slender waist, no foreplay, no pity, just brute force as he entered her completely.

Ah!

Tan Xiang bit her lips hard, but still couldn't suppress a faint cry.

She gripped the bedsheet tight, her delicate body under the messy clothes trembling uncontrollably.

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