Mistakenly Provoking the Gangster Prince

The back alley of New York University's south gate was a kaleidoscope of neon lights and shadows.

Elena Vance had just gone through a breakup. Under the encouragement of her best friend, she stepped into the "Midnight" bar for the first time in her life. Emboldened by alcohol, she pointed at the most dazzling and coldest man in the center of the dance floor and shouted at the top of her lungs:

"So what if you're handsome! You look like you need a punch, who are you trying to impress with that attitude!"

At that moment, the originally noisy bar fell so silent you could hear a pin drop.

In the center of the dance floor, Julian Foster slowly turned his head. He had a handsome face that was intensely aggressive, with dark, messy hair partially obscuring his eyes. His entire being radiated a "stay away from me" hostility.

"Are you talking to me?" Julian's voice was calm, but it instantly made Elena's alcohol-induced courage vanish.

"I... I said you... are handsome..." Elena immediately lost her nerve and tried to slip away.

Julian didn't chase her. He just stood there, watching the figure fleeing like a rabbit, a cruel yet excited smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Julian, who's that girl? How dare she talk to you like that?" a subordinate asked tremblingly.

"I don't know her." Julian took a sip of cold whiskey, his eyes dark and brooding. "But tomorrow, she will know me."

Early the next morning, Elena walked toward the teaching building with her books as usual, only to find a whole row of black Maybachs parked at the university gate.

The surrounding students were gathered in thick layers, watching.

Julian Foster, dressed in a black motorcycle suit, leaned against a car door, holding a warm breakfast in his hand.

"Elena Vance, come here." He beckoned, his tone like he was calling his own pet.

Elena shrank behind the crowd, wishing she could find a hole to crawl into. "You... you must have the wrong person, right?"

Julian strode over, and under the watchful eyes of everyone, he cornered her against a wall. Leaning down to her ear, his voice was low and seductive:

"Weren't you scolding me quite happily last night? Why aren't you continuing this morning?"

Elena Vance originally thought that scolding Julian Foster in the bar last night was just a nightmare.

But when she saw twelve black Maybachs neatly lined up at the university gate early the next morning, she knew the nightmare had only just begun.

Students from the entire university were gathered at the gate, pointing and whispering.

"Isn't that Julian Foster? The 'Prince' of the Foster family in New York?" "What is he doing at our school? Who is he looking for?"

Julian was dressed in a pure black motorcycle suit, holding a bag of steaming hot dumplings, leaning boredly against a car door and smoking. His gaze swept through the crowd of students and finally landed precisely on Elena, who was attempting to climb over a wall to escape.

"Miss Vance, climbing walls doesn't quite match your 'heroic' personality from last night."

Julian's voice wasn't loud, but it made Elena's body freeze instantly.

She turned her head awkwardly, forcing a smile that looked worse than crying. "Mr. Foster, what a coincidence. What brings you here to... inspect our school?"

"Inspect?" Julian walked over slowly, cornering her step by step. "I'm here to catch up with Miss Vance. When you called me 'punchable' last night, you were very energetic."

"I was drunk! Really! I'm allergic to alcohol, I talk nonsense when I drink!" Elena clasped her hands together, pleading desperately.

Julian stared at her deer-like eyes, which were wide with panic, and suddenly found it a bit amusing. He reached out and stuffed the bag of dumplings into her arms, his tone leaving no room for argument:

"Eat it. After you're done, come with me."

"Where to?"

"To let you see if I'm really 'punchable'." Julian gave a wicked smile, directly picked Elena up horizontally, and threw her into the back seat of the Maybach.

Elena Vance was taken by Julian Foster to a private shooting range.

"Hold it." Julian stuffed a delicate pistol into Elena's hand. "Miss Vance, since you think I'm arrogant, let's see who's more arrogant."

Elena's hands were shaking. "Mr. Foster, I really don't know how to use this..."

"I'll teach you." Julian strode behind her, encircling her from behind. His hot chest pressed against her back, and his long fingers covered the back of her hand, leading her hand to slowly pull the trigger.

"Bang!"

The bullet hit the bullseye.

"See that?" Julian's voice sounded in her ear, low and sexy. "This feeling of being in control of everything is what you call 'arrogant'."

For the rest of the afternoon, Elena was kept by Julian's side.

He took her to an underground racing track for drag racing, took her to a gang negotiation scene filled with killing intent, and even took her to taste the most expensive afternoon tea in New York.

"Julian Foster, what exactly do you want?" Elena finally couldn't help but ask.

Julian put down his coffee cup, his dark eyes staring at her. "Elena Vance, you are the only woman in New York who dared to scold me in public. Since you scolded me, you have to take responsibility."

"Responsibility? How?"

"Be my girlfriend." Julian said it matter-of-factly. "Since you think I'm 'punchable', then stay by my side and supervise me at all times. How about it?"

Elena's jaw almost dropped in shock.

Did this gangster prince's brain really get damaged by her scolding?

Over the next two weeks, Elena Vance's life underwent a world-shaking change.

No matter where she went, she could feel someone protecting her in the shadows. The girls at school who used to gossip about and bully her now avoided her like the plague.

Even her counselor's attitude toward her became cautious.

This afternoon, as Elena came out of the library, she saw that familiar black Cullinan parked by the road again.

The window rolled down, revealing Julian Foster's incomparably handsome face. "Get in."

Elena sat in without any protest. "Mr. Foster, when are you finally going to let me go? My classmates are all saying I've been 'kept' by a mob boss."

Julian chuckled, his long fingers tapping the steering wheel. "Isn't that what they're saying? In New York, who doesn't know that you, Elena Vance, are Julian Foster's person?"

"That's a unilateral announcement!" Elena glared at him, puffing out her cheeks.

"Oh?" Julian leaned in close, his deep eyes staring into hers, his voice low and magnetic. "Then how does Miss Vance want to make it a 'two-way street'?"

Elena was enveloped by his scent, her face turning as red as a ripe apple. She instinctively shrank back. "I... I have to go back to the dorm to finish my homework."

"I had someone do your homework for you." Julian dominantly grabbed her wrist. "Tonight, come with me to a place."

"Where to now?"

"My grandmother's birthday banquet," Julian said word by word.

Elena was stunned. "That's a family banquet, it wouldn't be appropriate for me to go, would it?"

"You're my prospective girlfriend, what's inappropriate about it?" Julian started the car without any room for argument.

Elena wanted to cry but had no tears. This prince was really getting more and more out of line!

The Foster family's old mansion was a garden villa with a great sense of history.

Elena Vance wore a pale pink cheongsam that Julian Foster had prepared in advance. Her dark hair was like silk, making her look like a lady from a traditional painting—vibrant and graceful.

The moment Julian saw her, a flash of amazement crossed his eyes.

"Elena, come in with me." He took her hand, their fingers interlocking naturally.

At the banquet, everyone's eyes fell on this well-matched couple. When Old Mrs. Foster saw Elena, she couldn't stop smiling.

"Good child, come and sit by Grandma."

Elena had originally expected to be made difficult by the wealthy elders, but to her surprise, Old Mrs. Foster was extremely open-minded. She held Elena's hand, asking about everything, and even spilled a bunch of Julian's childhood embarrassments.

When they left the mansion, it was late at night.

Elena looked at the man walking beside her and suddenly felt that he might not be that "bad." Although he was eccentric and domineering, the tenderness in his eyes when facing his family couldn't be hidden.

"Julian, why did you bring me here?" Elena asked softly.

Julian stopped and looked at her under the moonlight, his expression serious. "Because I want you to know that I'm not just playing around. Elena Vance, don't think about running anymore; you can't escape."

There was a hint of paranoia and deep affection in his voice that had never been there before.

Elena's heart skipped a beat.

Under the fierce pursuit of this top New York prince, her originally solid heart defense seemed to be crumbling bit by bit.

Since the visit to the Foster mansion, the relationship between Elena Vance and Julian Foster entered a subtle "observation period."

Elena no longer avoided him, and occasionally she would even take the initiative to send him a message, although most of the time it was to ask when he would return the stack of homework that had been done for her.

One day, New York was hit by a sudden rainstorm.

The entrance of the milk tea shop where Elena worked part-time was crowded with people seeking shelter from the rain. She was so busy she barely had time to breathe.

"Welcome, what would you like to drink?" she asked without looking up.

"A glass of warm water," a familiar voice replied.

Elena looked up sharply and saw Julian Foster standing at the counter. He was dressed in a suit, but because he hadn't used an umbrella, his shoulders were wet, and there were water droplets on his forehead.

"Why are you here?" Elena quickly poured him a glass of hot water.

"Just passing by," Julian lied without blinking. In fact, he had just finished a negotiation worth several hundred million dollars. When he saw the heavy rain, his first thought was that the silly girl definitely wouldn't have an umbrella.

The other girls in the milk tea shop were whispering; after all, a man of this caliber could usually only be seen in financial magazines.

Julian waited quietly in the shop for her to finish her shift.

When she finished work, Elena found that he had already driven the car to the shop entrance. He personally got out of the car, opened a large black umbrella, and blocked all the wind and rain, holding her tightly in his arms.

"Elena Vance, I have the patience to wait, but that doesn't mean I'll wait forever," he whispered in the car, wiping the rain splashes from her face.

At that moment, Elena saw a tenderness in his eyes that could drown someone.

This most arrogant man in New York seemed to have really been "subdued" by an ordinary girl like her.

Despite Julian Foster's protection, there were always some people who lacked common sense.

Julian's business rivals had been staring at his weakness. And Elena Vance was that most obvious weakness.

One day after school, Elena was stopped by several thugs in the alley on her way home.

"Hey girl, come with us. Mr. Foster will come to pick you up," the leader said, his face full of scars, holding a cigar.

Although Elena was afraid, she forced herself to stay calm. "Do you know the consequences of touching me?"

"Consequences? As long as we can get a handle on Julian Foster, what does a little risk matter?"

Just as they were about to forcibly take Elena away, a black SUV suddenly charged into the alley, screeching to a halt in front of them.

Julian Foster jumped out of the car like a god of death.

He didn't bring anyone with him, entering the fray alone. His eyes were cold and sharp, as if he wanted to swallow these thugs alive.

"You want to touch my person? Have you thought about how you want to die?"

The scene that followed was extremely violent. Julian's skills were astonishing, every move ruthless and decisive. In less than five minutes, all the thugs were lying on the ground, groaning in pain.

Julian walked over to the trembling Elena and pulled her into his arms, his grip so strong it felt like he wanted to rub her into his very blood and soul.

"I'm sorry, I'm late."

His voice was trembling.

Elena heard his rapid heartbeat. At that moment, all her terror turned into a profound sense of security. She wrapped her arms around his waist and cried softly.

After that attempted kidnapping, Julian Foster guarded Elena Vance by his side in an almost obsessive way.

He took her to his top-floor penthouse in the city center.

"From today on, you live here," Julian said coldly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Julian Foster, this is illegal imprisonment!" Elena was a bit overwhelmed.

Julian suddenly turned around and pinned her against the huge floor-to-ceiling window. His jawline was tight, and his eyes burned with a fire called "lingering fear."

"You can understand it that way. Elena Vance, whenever I think of something happening to you, I want to destroy the whole world. Do you understand?"

His sanity was crumbling.

These days, he couldn't close his eyes all night, his mind filled with the image of her being surrounded by thugs.

Elena looked at the dark circles under his eyes, and her heart suddenly softened completely. She reached out and gently stroked his brow.

"Julian, I'm fine. I'm very good now."

This simple action instantly dissolved the man's hostility.

He lowered his head and rested his forehead on her shoulder, like a wounded child seeking her scent.

"Elena Vance, you won. I, Julian Foster, am completely fallen for you in this life."

Outside the window was the dazzling night view of New York; inside, two souls finally merged completely at this moment.

The atmosphere continued to heat up in the ambiguity.

In this top-floor penthouse, the two lived a life similar to "cohabitation." Julian Foster would cook personally every day (though the taste was hard to describe), while Elena Vance was responsible for laughing at him from the side.

This night, the night view of New York was exceptionally charming.

Elena was sitting on a rocking chair on the balcony counting stars, and Julian walked over carrying two glasses of red wine.

He had taken off his usual suit jacket and was only wearing a white shirt with the collar slightly open, radiating a lazy and noble sexiness.

"Elena," he called her softly.

"Hmm?" Elena turned her head.

Julian leaned down, his hands supporting both sides of the rocking chair, completely trapping her within his sphere of influence. His gaze was deep as a pool, staring straight at her red lips.

"Elena Vance, do you know? On the day you scolded me in the bar, I wanted to do this."

"Want... want to do what?" Elena was so nervous her breathing stopped.

"I wanted to take you home, lock you up, and let only me see you," Julian's voice was hoarse. "But now, I want to do something else even more."

"What?"

"Kiss you."

As soon as he finished speaking, his kiss pressed down.

It was a domineering, passionate kiss that also carried an extreme tenderness. Elena closed her eyes, her hands involuntarily climbing up his neck.

All resistance vanished at this moment.

She finally admitted that she had fallen in love with this most arrogant, most domineering man in New York, who also loved her the most.

One year later.

At New York University's graduation ceremony, Elena Vance, wearing her academic gown, stood on the stage as the outstanding graduate representative to give a speech.

In the audience, sitting in the middle of the first row, was a man in a black suit, noble and extraordinary, holding a large bouquet of vibrant red roses.

All the students in the school knew that the most powerful prince in New York was Elena Vance's devoted boyfriend.

"Finally, I want to thank one person." Elena looked at Julian Foster in the audience, her eyes full of smiles. "I want to thank him for not actually punching me on that bar night, but instead giving me a lifetime of love."

The audience erupted in cheers.

After the graduation ceremony, Julian strode onto the stage and, in front of everyone, knelt on one knee.

He took out a dazzling diamond ring from his pocket.

"Elena Vance, I've been scolded, I've been kissed, and even my grandmother has accepted you. Now, are you willing to take the title of 'Mrs. Foster' as well?"

Elena's eyes were red as she reached out her hand. "Julian Foster, you're still so arrogant."

"Only to you." Julian smiled as he slid the ring onto her finger, then stood up and picked her up horizontally.

"Let's go, I'm taking you home."

"Which home?"

"Our home."

From the heart-pounding first encounter to the steady stream of their current life.

Elena was glad that she had mistakenly provoked Julian Foster that night.

And Julian was also glad that into his life had burst a silly girl named Elena Vance who dared to scold him.

(The End)