You Said You’d Only Tuck Me In, but the CEO Wants to Sleep with Me

[Both Pure + Healing Each Other + Mutual Devotion + Extreme Size Difference + Sweet Romance, No Angst]

After my childhood friend siphoned off 300,000 yuan and left me bankrupt, I posted on my social media in the middle of the night and turned the tables, ruining his reputation.

To pay off my debts, I took an absurd part-time job that paid over ten thousand yuan an hour: going to a villa halfway up the mountain to serve as the “exclusive white-noise Foley artist” for a business tycoon on the verge of a breakdown.

Rumor had it that Yan Ting, a rising tech mogul, was ruthless and cold-tempered.

He suffered from severe auditory hypersensitivity and chronic insomnia. He couldn’t tolerate even the slightest noise, and everyone gave him a wide berth.

I thought it was just a job-for-pay arrangement. My only task was to make white noise with plastic bags and water cups from behind one-way glass, lulling him to sleep.

That was until one stormy night, when the high-and-mighty tycoon pushed open the door and cornered me against the wall, his eyes bloodshot.

His voice was hoarse, his obsession almost out of control. “Stop tapping the microphone.”

“Let me hear your real heartbeat.”

Later, the childhood friend who’d run off with my 300,000 yuan knelt in front of me and begged me to let him go.

Yan Ting wrapped an arm around my waist from behind and coldly tossed a card in front of him. “Get lost. He’s exhausted from last night and can’t stand the sound of a dog barking right now.”

[Resilient, money-loving low-level Foley artist × outwardly cold, inwardly starved-for-love tycoon]