Titus Zane lay in bed, hands cushioning his face, struggling to find sleep for a long time, with the sobs and accusations of his sister Olivia Zane ringing in his ears, and the image of her ceaselessly pounding her thighs right before his eyes...
It’s like rewinding a tape; the scene kept playing over and over in his mind, impossible to dispel.
The accusations from his sister lashed at Titus Zane’s heart like a whip, constantly reminding him that all of it was his own doing.
Footsteps could be heard coming from the corridor outside the bedroom, the sound of leather shoes clacking against the Marble floor.
Instinctively, Titus Zane suddenly looked up in the direction of the door, his nerves on edge.
With a loud bang, the bedroom door was forcefully pushed open from the outside, trembling as it hit the wall and was about to rebound when it was held in place by a long arm.
Nathan Moore stood in the doorway, dressed in a white shirt and black trousers, a gentlemanly attire, yet at that moment, he seemed like a demon straight from hell, his presence emanating a terrifying menace.
Titus Zane’s pale lips moved slightly but before he could make a sound, the demon at the door quickly approached, grabbed his shoulders, and yanked him off the bed.
"Titus Zane!" The two words were spoken through gritted teeth, revealing his hatred.
"Nathan..." Forced to prop himself up, Titus Zane half-sat on the bed, his disheveled hair covering half his face, but unable to hide the panic in his eyes.
"Titus Zane, you wicked woman!" Nathan Moore raised his hand like a vice, and with a scream from Titus, "Ah...", he was thrown onto the bed.
There was a "thud" as the forehead collided with the oak headboard of the bed. It was not enough to knock him out but it hurt sharply.
Barely supporting himself on his forearms, Titus Zane lightly touched the aching spot on his forehead, feeling a sticky sensation; he most likely had a bleeding cut.
Letting his hand fall, Titus Zane awkwardly braced himself on the bed, his posture rather disheveled.
With a throbbing pain on his forehead, Titus Zane laughed.
Pale lips curled into a smile, laughter escaping, but those cool eyes overflowed with tears, unstoppable.
Titus Zane looked up to meet the stern gaze of the man standing in front of the bed, his smile unwavering.
He said, "Nathan Moore, if tormenting me can bring you balance, then please, don’t hold back."
Titus Zane faced the menacing Nathan Moore, his eyes closed, expressing his despair.
In the past, he had always been the aggressor, and now he has turned to abuse against her.
Nathan Moore’s handsome brows furrowed slightly, a flicker of unclear emotion crossing his eyes, fleeting so quickly even he couldn’t catch it.
Once again grabbing Titus Zane’s arm and yanking her in front of him, Titus clumsily fell at the edge of the bed, with Nathan looming above, his thin lips falling onto her neck, biting down hard without a trace of mercy.
Pain radiated from the neck, as if the artery was nearly bitten through. Titus Zane bit her lips, hands tightly clutching the sheets below, making no attempt to struggle.
If at first she had fiercely resisted, then after a few times, she had given up.
Because no matter how hard she struggled and resisted, what came in return was an even more brutal punishment from Nathan Moore.
Actually, when her sister Olivia was sobbing downstairs earlier, she should have known that tonight was destined to be anything but calm.
Nathan Moore’s lips and tongue trailed down her body, biting hard at each spot to leave marks, as if trying to consume Titus Zane whole, unable to quell the hatred in his heart.
The cries from Titus Zane never stopped, but it was Nathan Moore’s forceful blow that truly made her scream out.