Seductive touch

Irene's heart pounded as she struggled to respond, her voice trembling. "Yes?"

"Miss, the Young Master wishes to meet you," Albert, the bodyguard, introduced himself. "I am here to escort you."

Irene's mind went numb upon hearing Albert's words. She couldn't fathom what was happening. It was supposed to be her wedding day, and now this man appeared, making little sense to her.

"Are you coming, Miss Jones?" Albert inquired once again.

Nodding silently, Irene followed the bulky bodyguard, her heavy gown weighing her down. Each step she took away from the wedding aisle only intensified her humiliation and crushed any remaining confidence she had.

Irene wanted to ask Albert what was going on, but she refrained from doing so. She didn't know him well, and that shattered any ounce of trust she had left.

As they emerged from the banquet hall, a black SUV pulled up in front of them.

Respectfully, Albert announced, "The Young Master is inside."

After his words, he opened the car door for Irene. She caught a glimpse of a broad back facing her, which only heightened her anxiety.

Various thoughts raced through her mind, but she composed herself and stepped into the car, not wanting to exacerbate the situation further.

"So, you must be Irene Jones."

Irene's body stiffened upon hearing the deep, monotone voice she never expected to encounter.

"I asked you a question," the voice continued.

Chills coursed through Irene's body as his impersonal tone intensified her fear. She had never encountered someone with such a cold aura, especially since he refused to face her. Her breath quickened in response.

"Are you deaf? Or perhaps you don't wish to answer me, Miss Jones?"

Bile rose in Irene's throat, leaving her powerless to respond. It was a senseless situation she found herself in, rendering her unable to provide any meaningful answer.

"I... I think Miss Jones may have difficulty speaking. Do you stutter?" he inquired.

Irene was unsure how to respond, as this stranger wasn't contributing anything positive to her well-being. She was terrified, and her fear manifested in her stutter, defying any explanation she could offer him.

"So, Miss Irene Jones, you are the chosen bride of Myers?"

Irene replied, "Yes, I am," even though she wanted to express that she wasn't chosen but rather replaced. However, she lacked the strength to voice her situation.

"Don't you think you're too ugly to be chosen?" he sneered.

Irene's hand fell to her side, and she pondered, "How does he know about my appearance? He hasn't even looked at me, except for his back."

What could he possibly say about her face?

Her conscience taunted her, "He isn't lying, though."

"I don't know about that," she finally responded, unsure of how to answer.

"You think I'm unaware of how your greedy family has thrust you into your sister's place?" Theodore spoke.

Irene clenched her fist, recognizing that his knowledge only worsened the situation. She believed no one knew her sister had disappeared, and her family had made her a scapegoat. Yet, this stranger seemed aware, and she suspected he was connected to Myers.

What if he was the same person she was forced to marry?

Before she could process further, she found herself pinned against the tinted window, her mouth agape as she met the gaze of dark green eyes. His intense stare penetrated her deep brown eyes, slicing through her like a sharp jaw, leaving her terrified and breathless.

"I hate liars like you," 

Irene shouted in frustration. "Who the hell are you? Leave me alone now!"

Theodore chuckled. "Ha! Ha! Ha! Why are you so amusing?" Irene's breathing escalated as she stood in such proximity to a stranger, intensifying her fear to its peak.

"Do you really believe anyone will save you?" he taunted.

Irene felt her blood run cold, observing something flash in his bright green eyes, now darker than before.

His sharp nose approached her neck, sniffing her scent, stirring heat within her body.

Irene's eyes widened in disbelief. His words were not what she had expected, completely unexpected.

"What the hell do you mean, you bastard?" Irene shouted in anger, but he tightened his grip on her wrist, as though ready to break it.

"So, Miss Jones dares to call me a bastard?"

Irene's breath hitched at the sight of his darkening green eyes, brimming with the utmost anger she had ever witnessed.

"Who are you? Why the hell are you touching me and speaking to me like this?"

"I am Cyril Myers, your husband's cousin," he declared.

Irene asked, "Then why the hell are you behaving this way?"

Theodore smirked, finding Irene intriguing. It enticed him to witness her reaction, even though she appeared "ugly" to him. After all, he was Theodore Myers, her future husband, the person she was obligated to marry that day.

"Why do you even want to marry an impotent and ugly man? Although you are repulsive as well, what's wrong with indulging in a night with me? I can offer you pleasures beyond his imagination. So, what's stopping you from spending a night with me?"

Irene couldn't comprehend his line of questioning. First, he insulted her appearance, and now he proposed a one-night stand. It all felt incredibly disgusting, beyond her expectations.

If she was so disgusting, why did he desire her? The thought unsettled her, and she refused to engage in such sordid affairs.

"I don't need to do that, Mr. Myers. Regardless of my husband's shortcomings, he is mine, and there's no need for your words to intrude upon me. If I have no issue with it, what's your problem? Today is my wedding, for God's sake! If you continue this behaviour, you'll undoubtedly regret it. So, just leave me alone!" Irene asserted.

Theodore pressed himself closer, causing her gown to slip halfway, exposing her thigh. His grip tightened on her hand as his other hand rested on her bare skin, intruding upon her most intimate boundaries.

Irene struggled, feeling his hand on her exposed thigh. The fear inside her escalated, surpassing her tolerance. It was a terrifying situation she couldn't fathom.

Theodore trailed his hand upward, and Irene winced as he clamped down on her sensitive flesh, inflicting both fear and pain.

Irene hissed, her face reddening with humiliation and embarrassment. She fought back tears, refusing to display her vulnerability, which he sought from her. She felt a mixture of fear and shame, unable to define her emotions at that moment.