Looking into his peach blossom eyes, which seemed to express affection even toward a dog, I once again fully realized that he had never truly cared for me.
With his intense possessiveness, he only saw me as a toy to amuse himself with.
Feeling his body, which was on the brink of losing control, I didn’t go along with him for the first time. "I'm tired, let's do it another day."
My repeated interruptions of his advances made Vincent exude an icy aura.
He narrowed his eyes, as if about to question me, when the phone rang urgently.
Hearing the crying on the other end of the phone, Vincent hurriedly opened the door and ran downstairs.
By the time he brought a drenched Evelyn upstairs, I was already lying in bed.
However, he used a spare key to open the door and ordered me with an indifferent tone, "Go make some ginger soup for Evelyn to warm her up."
I sat up and watched them, motionless.
Evelyn immediately pouted, her face full of grievance as she said, "Vincent, although she's a maid, don’t you think asking her to make me soup in the middle of the night might be too much trouble? I’ll be fine if I just rest for a bit."
After speaking, she sneezed.