Chapter 89 If: Modern Extra 2

Chapter 89 If: Modern Side Story 2

That night, Bai Yu entered the Family Head’s room.

Holding the ruby, the Family Head’s attendants quickly cleared a path for him, leading him into the private bedroom.

Imuir had booked the most luxurious suite on the cruise ship. The bedroom was spacious, with a central bed measuring two-point-three meters in width. Bai Yu strolled in, his gaze sweeping past the bedside—then paused, his eyebrows arching slightly.

There was a bottle of lubricant and several unopened boxes of condoms.

Bai Yu took in the sight. The size matched his own. He had no idea how Imuir had estimated it, having only met him once before—when Bai Yu had been wearing a suit.

The bedroom was empty. Bai Yu sat down on the sofa by the bed, with his hands folded, waiting for Imuir to return.

Only then did he notice the sound of water running in the room.

The suite’s soundproofing was excellent. The faint trickle filtered through three layers of glass, barely perceptible, yet in the silence of the room, it echoed distinctly, piercing straight to Bai Yu’s ears.

He was showering.

The water stopped and started intermittently, as if he was applying soap before rinsing it off.

Bai Yu thought to himself, *How completely shameless.*

According to tabloids, every Family Head of the Hradelier family was promiscuous and without moral restraint. And now, this Family Head was openly showering in front of a stranger—proof that the rumors were true.

Bai Yu’s disgust deepened, but with Lewis’ situation at stake, he couldn’t simply leave.

Before long, the water stopped. Imuir seemed to have stepped out of the tub. The bathroom door's glass was fogged thickly with steam, yet through the haze, the vague outline of a figure could still be seen.

The biracial beauty’s silhouette was as striking as his face. Imuir seemed to be deliberately stalling, lingering naked behind the glass. He sat on a chair, lifting one elegantly curved leg, carefully drying himself with a towel—from thigh to ankle—before leisurely tending to his hair and tying on his robe.

He hadn't bothered with undergarments at all.

Then, at last, Imuir opened the bathroom door.

The Family Head was barefoot, leaving wet footprints on the carpet as he stepped forward. His movements were light and graceful, the prints nearly forming a straight line—like a cat’s. The moment he saw Bai Yu, a smile played across his lips. Then he knelt on the bed, naturally spreading his arms toward Bai Yu at the edge.

For most people, this pose would mean: *I want a hug.*

But when a venomous, calculating beauty did this, Bai Yu was completely baffled.

The Family Head, arms outstretched, was asking for an embrace from the stranger he had bought with a ruby.

Frowning, Bai Yu lowered his gaze, studying Imuir, trying to discern his intentions—but—

The silk robe barely reached his thighs, and with Imuir kneeling like this…

Bai Yu averted his eyes.

He asked, “What does the Family Head want with me so late at night?”

The question was redundant, because in the next second, Imuir had already wrapped his arms around his neck.

Even as Imuir pressed him down by the shoulders, Bai Yu—holding the Family Head as they toppled onto the bed—still didn’t understand whether this confused arrangement had been settled.

—He wanted a prisoner released. Imuir wanted pleasure. A tangled deal, but one that could barely be called mutual agreement.

So Bai Yu asked, “Lewis…”

Before the words could fully leave his lips, Imuir had already pressed forward, silencing the rest with a kiss.

He placed a finger against Bai Yu's mouth. "Don’t mention unimportant things right now."

Six months apart had made him miss the doctor far too much.

Imuir didn’t believe Bai Yu still lost his memory. He assumed the doctor had remembered at least something—because, knowing him as he did, Bai Yu wouldn’t have come this late at night unless he had already recognized his little cat.

The doctor was not one for casual affairs. He was rational about intimacy and restrained, never one to indulge in pleasure. If anything, he was excessively controlled—so much so that Imuir couldn’t even complain in pain, lest the doctor actually stop.

Bai Yu had never once lost control, to the point where the duke, looking in the mirror, often questioned the allure of his face.

Every night, curled up in the doctor’s arms, Imuir would debate asking him next time to be less gentle, less considerate. His childhood had been through rough times—perhaps the doctor could bring a different kind of tempest.

But before he could voice these thoughts, he found himself transported here, a disgraced family heir with no one to rely on. The script was familiar, and he handled it easily. The only problem was that the doctor had lost his memory.

At least he had found him.

Even if the memories weren’t fully restored, it didn’t matter. As long as the doctor didn’t reject him, Imuir would stay by his side until he remembered.

With that thought, the little cat eagerly pushed the doctor down, planting messy kisses along his collarbone and neck before tugging loose the ties of their clothes—both Bai Yu’s and his own.

Bai Yu frowned slightly. The sensation of being forced was unpleasant, and he wasn’t particularly enthusiastic, so his touch wasn’t gentle. Then came Imuir’s startled gasp, his lake-blue eyes widening even more, resembling a kitten’s.

Though clearly in some pain, he inexplicably perked up, pressing closer to the doctor as he began to beg for kisses desperately.

Imuir left Bai Yu’s neck wet from kisses, occasionally pausing to bite his shoulder—lightly, just enough to leave a mark—before soothing the spot with a lick.

Again and again, until the doctor’s shoulders looked as though he’d been mauled by an actual kitten, covered in light red marks.

Bai Yu tilted his head slightly, thinking, *I’ll probably need to wear a high-collared shirt.*

In his bad mood, Imuir showed no signs of stopping. Bai Yu’s hands were rough, his hold tight. Just as the family head bit down on his neck, Bai Yu’s fingers tightened around him—and suddenly brushed against something strange.

Furry. Like… a tail?

A tail?!

He pinched it in disbelief. It was soft, fluffy, and disturbingly alive, twitching under his touch.

Tail seized, Imuir shuddered, biting down harder as if in protest. Yet the appendage betrayed its owner, coiling tightly around Bai Yu’s wrist like a vine, trembling as it looped itself once.

Bai Yu: "..."

Why was there a tail?!

He tugged experimentally. Imuir winced, shooting him an annoyed look.

Bai Yu: "..."

The tail was clearly part of Imuir.

Not some toy or accessory—a real, living tail, warm and jointed, with bones beneath the fur.

A tail on a human was bizarre, something that should have unsettled or at least bewildered any normal person. Yet Bai Yu felt no confusion at all. Instead, he had a strange feeling this was normal, like this was how it should be.

As if this exotic beauty was meant to have a platinum tail, and this very tail was meant to coil around his wrist, locking snugly around it.

"......"

This wasn’t the first time Bai Yu had felt this way. Ever since waking up on the cruise ship, this feeling had grown overwhelming. It seemed he had forgotten something familiar, and when the tail brushed against his palm as Bai Yu absentmindedly stroked the fur, the feeling became unbearable.

Lost in thought, he naturally stopped moving. Imuir butted against him impatiently and asked in confusion, "Doctor?"

At this rate, the Duke might seriously question his allure.

Bai Yu frowned. The title "Doctor" was also strange. He and Imuir were strangers who'd crossed paths—merely two passengers on the cruise ship. How did Imuir know he was a doctor? Yet Imuir’s tone was intimate, as if he had called him that a thousand times.

In a sudden epiphany, Bai Yu grasped a clue.

His gaze fell on the ruby red as blood on the nightstand, dazzlingly bright. Foggily, it came back to him—a little cat had once given him a similar ruby.

...A little cat?

The Duke, Illiria... Imuir?

Bai Yu went rigid with shock, suddenly remembering the gilded ducal palace, the platinum-and-white kitten, System 66, and that bewildering mission. Scenes connected in his mind, and a flood of fragmented memories rushed in.

By the time he pieced most of it together, a cold sweat broke out on Bai Yu’s forehead.

Imuir was apparently his wife!

Having forgotten his wife entirely, only for the kitten to seek him out with longing eyes and push a betrothal gem toward him—yet Bai Yu had mistaken him for a treacherous noble, a degenerate patriarch who wanted to exploit him, a scoundrel who used friends as leverage. And if that weren’t bad enough, he had gone too far, leaving him...

Bai Yu’s gaze lowered.

In Illiria, he had always been a gentleman, restrained and proper. The Duke by his side had always been elegant and dignified. But now, Imuir’s eyes glistened with tears, his expression fragile, his wrists and neck marked with red restraints, and his tail twitching occasionally—clearly in deep discomfort.

"......"

Bai Yu instantly entered a state of post-coital clarity.

He felt completely drained, and a little guilty.

Bai Yu didn’t smoke, but at this moment, under these circumstances, he wished he could hold a cigarette between his fingers and pace around the deck.

But there were no cigarettes on the cruise ship, and he couldn’t leave the Duke alone to collect himself.

The moment Bai Yu’s demeanor shifted, Imuir noticed immediately. He lashed his tail, sensing the change, then lifted his eyes in disbelief, fixing him with an accusatory stare.

Wh-what was going on?

What had he done to make the doctor suddenly like this?

Imuir’s befuddled mind replayed the earlier scenes, and he realized in shock that the doctor had glanced at him—and then, just like that...

"...?"

Imuir knew that in Bai Yu’s homeland, there was a saying about the "seven-year itch"—that over time, one might grow to find their partner completely unattractive. But he and the doctor hadn’t seen each other for half a year!

Wasn’t "absence supposed to make the heart grow fonder"?

The Duke clenched the sheets tightly, unable to stop his claws from unsheathing. The expensive fabric was snagged to ribbons. Gritting his teeth in silent frustration, he refused to lift his head and look at Bai Yu.

Bai Yu had spent so many years with the duke that he had long since figured out his partner's moods. After only a brief pause, he understood and gently pinched the kitten's earlobe, drawing him into his arms. "Imuir... should we keep going?"

Imuir gave him a suspicious look but, seeing no sign of dislike or anything negative on the doctor's face, he bit his shoulder and muttered, "Keep going."

His ears red, he added in a small voice, "I like you like this today."

Bai Yu raised an eyebrow.

The doctor was usually a gentleman and restrained—but only to avoid hurting the kitten. Yet if his partner was asking for it, he wasn’t opposed to playing along.

Soon enough, Imuir found himself unable to stay angry.

The doctor had always known how to handle the kitten. By the time Imuir went soft against him, nuzzling into his embrace, Bai Yu let out a quiet sigh of relief.

The kitten was pacified.

Meanwhile, Imuir, satisfied, clung to his reclaimed doctor and lazily asked, "By the way, earlier..."

Bai Yu's eyebrow twitched.

"Earlier, you mentioned Lewis—was there something about him?"

Imuir had seen how close they were and had been burning with jealousy.

After a subtle pause, Bai Yu brushed it off completely. "Nothing. Just some random nobody."

With a high-society big shot as his wife, who needed some boss?