Chapter 8
707words
"Mia," he said, his forehead slick with sweat, “let’s have another baby, shall we?”
Droplets of sweat fell onto my dazed face as he leaned closer, wiping them away before pulling me into his arms, his movements unyielding and insistent. The force of it left me breathless, words catching in my throat as I struggled to keep up.
I shook my head weakly, overwhelmed, silently begging him to slow down. But he misunderstood, mistaking my reluctance for refusal. His intensity only grew, his pace relentless.
"No, Mia, relax."
By the end, I was trembling, tears welling up and spilling over.
The truth was stark and inescapable: he didn’t care what I wanted. Not really.
He made the room next door available, intending to build a baby's crib. He designed every detail of the renovation himself.
Watching him crouched in the room, so focused on his work, I clenched my fists in silent fury.
Trevor, I won't carry your child.
Not now. Not ever.
Forget it.
Last year, Trevor had invested in a project in a neighboring city and had made a fortune. His business partners held a celebration at Dusky and invited him over.
When he received the news, he pulled me into his arms, kissing my ear gently. "Mia, I'm going out tonight. Wait for me at home."
I nodded obediently, murmuring, "Mm, I'll wait for you."
Satisfied, he left.
At home, bored out of my mind, I sipped warm milk and thought about what my next move would be.
That was when someone sent me a video.
It was a hostess from Dusky, known by the name Angel.
I knew her because she had taught me the ways to seduce Trevor.
I clicked the video, and there, on the bar counter, a woman was dancing. The dim lighting only heightened her allure; beneath the sheer crimson fabric, her porcelain skin glowed, and her slender waist swayed hypnotically. She danced for the crowd, but her eyes—those eyes—were fixed on Trevor below.
It was Cassidy.
Looks like her injuries had healed.
After everything that happened, her former employer, under Trevor's pressure, had dismissed her. Yet here she was. She was like a ghost that wouldn't leave.
The background of the video was filled with lewd and crude comments from the men below.
"God! She's so hot!"
"She's got an hourglass figure."
"Wonder how much she charges for a night?"
"Let's go ask."
Angel sent me another video, and I clicked it open as well.
Cassidy had been taken down and was now sitting on the lap of a fat, drunken man, across from Trevor. The man was toying with her body, his hands roaming as he drank.
Cassidy breathed softly, dodging away as she gazed at Trevor with eyes full of longing.
"Oh, Bruce, you're so naughty!
"Ah, you're hurting me! Don't be so rough."
Trevor took a sip of his drink, his voice casual as he muttered, "You all need to calm down."
Someone else laughed and chimed in, "Hey, who doesn't know that your wife is a beauty? But we've got nothing like that."
"Exactly, we're just playing with her, it's not like we're not paying."
Trevor's eyes shifted slightly, a glimmer passing through them, before he smiled and fell silent once again.
Cassidy's eyes lost their shine.
The video ended, and Angel sent me a message.
"Mia, it seems your husband really loves you. He didn't even budge with a hottie like her right in front of him."
I couldn't help but laugh out loud.
Cassidy had been in his bed—countless times.
But they had all been fooled by Trevor's cold and aloof demeanor.
Still, Trevor's possessiveness was something to reckon with.
I remember once, when I merely glanced at another man on the street, he took me home and punished me for hours.
The bathroom, the living room, the study, even the balcony—he left no part of the house untouched. Everywhere you could do it, we did it.
Begging didn't help.
Now, the woman who had once been his was about to be taken by another man.
Trevor, what will you do next?
