The Illegitimate Flame: Bride of Ashes-Chapter 28- You’re insane

"Do you think this is funny?"

The moment Janet saw that nonchalant smile on his face, a wave of irritation surged in her chest.

She remembered—this was exactly how he looked the first time they met too. That casual, half-smirking facade. A smile that clearly hid something darker, yet so unreadable it was impossible to tell if he was joking or not.

"Janet Xi..."

Manfred didn’t seem the least bit bothered by her cold glare. Instead, his striking features curved into a pleased grin as he shamelessly leaned closer to her.

"I’ve discovered something," he murmured. "You’re even more beautiful when you’re mad."

"Ridiculous."

Janet rolled her eyes and stood up, ignoring the smug expression on his face. She didn’t know him well—and had no desire to be alone in a room with a man like him. He was far too dangerously attractive, like some devilish creature in human form. Just being near him made her feel suffocated.

"Hey, don’t leave now—the concert’s already started. If you walk out, you’ll disturb the whole hall!"

As Janet made for the door, Manfred reached out and grabbed her arm with surprising force.

She stumbled backward and landed right on the couch, her back hitting a hard, unyielding wall of muscle.

A thick wave of masculine scent surrounded her.

"What are you doing? Let go of me!"

Janet flushed as she felt a pair of strong hands wrap firmly around her waist.

She tried to pry his hands away, but Manfred only pulled her closer—until her entire body was enveloped in his.

A faint, familiar scent rose from her skin, reaching his nose.

And in that dim light, with her clear and delicate face so close to his, something flickered in Manfred’s usually shadowed heart.

Just for a second—he hesitated.

"Hey—I’m a married woman. Let go!"

Janet instinctively leaned away, trying to put distance between them, but his face was so close their breaths nearly blended.

"As far as I know, your husband’s a cripple, Janet Xi. How’s a broken man supposed to satisfy you?"

Manfred’s voice lowered, rich with provocation.

"Come on. Be with me. I’ve got money—and I’m fully functional."

His hand wandered up the side of her neck, fingers tracing her skin in what might have been affection—but felt more like a taunt.

"Shut up! Don’t you dare talk about him like that!"

Without thinking, Janet raised her hand and slapped him hard across the face.

Pain burned her palm.

She hadn’t meant to hit him with so much force—had even expected him to dodge.

But she couldn’t let anyone insult Philip.

"Did that hurt?"

For a brief second, fury flickered across Manfred’s face—but then, unexpectedly, he smiled.

A wicked, dangerously seductive smile.

He caught her still-stinging hand and lifted it to his lips, tongue grazing her reddened palm in a slow, deliberate motion.

"You’re insane."

Janet yanked her hand back, face burning with shame and fury.

The intimacy of that gesture unsettled her in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

Strangely enough, when Charles had kissed her against her will, she hadn’t felt this... violated.

"In exchange for that slap,"

Manfred leaned back and finally released her, settling onto the other end of the couch.

"Sit through the rest of the concert with me."

The teasing grin had vanished.

He didn’t look at her again, just turned his head slightly to the side, lips curled into something colder, something mocking—like he already knew she wouldn’t leave now.

What Janet never could’ve expected was—

when she finally stepped out of the concert hall with Manfred...

Charles and Elvira would be walking out from another exit at the exact same time.

Their eyes met.

Charles’s sharp brows furrowed in displeasure the moment his gaze fell on Manfred standing behind Janet.

Even from across the sparse but bustling crowd, an intense aura burst from his dark, obsidian eyes.

It was as if their eyes mirrored each other’s presence—two predators sizing each other up in silence.

Janet’s lashes fluttered down guiltily.

Her feet felt like they were made of lead.

She forgot to keep walking the moment she saw Charles.

Elvira had noticed her too.

A mocking smile curved on her perfectly-painted lips.

Without missing a beat, she hooked her arm through Charles’s and pulled him away with exaggerated intimacy.

In the next moment, the surging crowd swept between them—separating Janet and Manfred.

Manfred stood back, watching that petite figure shrink in the throng of people.

She looked around helplessly, searching for him, and a satisfied smile tugged at his lips.

He easily parted the crowd and walked straight toward the confused Janet.

Suddenly, a warm hand enveloped her own.

At the exact moment Janet witnessed Charles and Elvira disappearing together from the opposite exit, a sharp ache pierced her chest.

She hadn’t missed that smug, victorious look Elvira had given her.

Why her?

Why would Charles be with her?

"I... I should go home,"

Janet murmured, even though she knew perfectly well it was Manfred holding her hand.

Still, some foolish part of her had been hoping it might’ve been someone else.

The flicker of disappointment in her expression did not escape Manfred’s sharp gaze.

He said nothing—just held her hand tighter and led her toward the parking lot.

"Hey! I said let go!"

Janet yanked at his grip, her voice tight with emotion.

She wasn’t even sure what she was mad about—Manfred’s persistence, or the image of Charles with Elvira.

Why should it matter?

He can be with whoever he wants—it has nothing to do with me.

"Manfred, what are you trying to do?"

she snapped, glaring at him as he all but shoved her into the passenger seat of a sleek, fire-red Ferrari.

"Dinner. Then I’ll take you home."

Ignoring her protests, Manfred adjusted her posture, fastened her seatbelt with unexpected care, then started the engine and sped off.

"I don’t need a ride from you! I can go home on my own!"

Janet didn’t say another word throughout the entire dinner.

The moment they stepped out of the restaurant, she jerked her arm free and rushed to flag down a taxi on the roadside.

She left before Manfred could stop her.

"Shit!"

Manfred cursed, kicking the tire in frustration.

His eyes stayed fixed on the direction her cab had vanished.

Leaning against the hood of his car, he pulled a peppermint cigarette from his pocket and lit it, his gaze turning cold and sinister.

Janet had barely stepped into the villa when she spotted a familiar car parked in the courtyard—a sleek Bugatti Veyron.

Her heart sank.

He’s back already?

Before she could even step onto the walkway, a strong arm yanked her to the side.

A low, simmering voice murmured above her head:

"Two and a half hours, Janet.

Getting bolder, aren’t we?"