Chapter 3

When Sylvie opened her eyes once more, she found herself lying on a hospital bed. She heard Connor's friends grumbling beside her.

"Everyone in Jewelton knows Connor is celibate. Even after he married Sylvie, he never touched her. Who knows how she got pregnant? What if Anna hadn't found out in time? Did Sylvie expect Connor to raise some other bastard's kid?"

"Sylvie's hopelessly in love with Connor, but Connor is keeping himself chaste. I bet she wanted to use a kid to hold over Connor's head. What a dumb, evil woman."

"Back in the olden days, a bitch like her would've been burned at the stake!"

Sylvie had just woken up. Her throat was too dry for her to speak. She looked at Connor. Only he knew the baby was his.

Connor sensed her gaze on him, but after hesitating briefly, he stayed silent.

Sylvie withdrew her gaze without a second thought. She'd forgotten that Connor didn't love her at all. Why would he sully his celibate, religious image for her sake?

Once his friends left, Connor finally approached Sylvie and said quietly, "I was too careless with using the proper protection. I'll be more cautious next time."

He didn't even apologize.

Although Sylvie didn't like him and didn't want kids either, she still felt a heavy feeling in her chest.

"And? Anna fed me an entire handful of abortion pills," she reminded weakly.

Still keeping his voice low, Connor said, "Annie's an innocent soul. She doesn't know the truth about us. She was just acting on impulse out of concern for me. In any case, we agreed from day one that we weren't going to have kids. Isn't this exactly what you wanted?"

Sylvie closed her eyes. "I'm tired. You should leave."

She raised her hand to shoo Connor off, only to notice that her arm was bandaged.

Looking rather sheepish, Connor explained, "Annie hurt her arm. She needed a skin graft. You have fair skin, so it was the most suitable."

Sylvie, who had been tolerant the whole time, was finally angered. "Did she even think about asking for my permission first?"

Upon hearing that Sylvie was holding Anna responsible for what happened, Connor frowned and said, "Don't blame Annie. I was the one who decided."

Sylvie had nothing to say.

Throughout these years, Connor had never once posted a photo of her on his social media. All of the gifts she received on their wedding anniversary were the freebies he got when buying presents for Anna. He even gave the necklace she got for her wedding to Anna to use as a necklace for her dog.

Sylvie didn't care about all of these things, but this time, she was genuinely tired of it all. Her only course of action now was to complete the mission at once and leave Connor for good. Only then could she be happy.

With this in mind, she turned to Connor and asked, "Are we doing it tonight?"

Connor thought Sylvie would be angry. After hearing what she just said, his concerns were assuaged. She was still the same doormat she always was. Regardless of how she was humiliated or denigrated, she would still prioritize him above all else.

Swallowing, Connor said, "You just had an abortion. You should focus on your recovery first. I'll come to you when I have an episode."

…

Sylvie spent a week in the hospital. When she got back to the Shaw residence, it was already midnight.

As soon as she opened the door, she saw Connor lying on the rug with a pained expression. His suit jacket had been tossed onto the floor, and his shirt was ruffled, too.

"Connor?" Sylvie called out tentatively.

When he met her gaze with bloodshot eyes, she figured out that his compulsive sexual disorder had struck again.

"Do you need me to help—"

She didn't even get to finish her sentence before Connor grabbed her. Before she realized what was happening, he had already picked her up and was carrying her to the altar, panting as he did.

"Here again?"

"It's more arousing here," Connor replied hoarsely.

Sylvie dutifully put on the mask without being asked.

It seemed like Connor had been holding it back for a long time now. After the first round, he immediately went for a second. He didn't stop at all.

In the end, Sylvie couldn't take it anymore. Gasping, she whined that she was in pain. Finally, Connor slowed down his pace.

…

After seven hours, Connor finally released Sylvie.

Falling back into his usual aloof demeanor, he buttoned up his shirt and said, "Didn't I tell you before that you're not allowed to talk when we have sex? It affects my ability to immerse myself properly."

In the last seven years, whenever Sylvie helped Connor with his episodes, she would have to wear a mask and was forbidden to utter any sounds. That made it easier for him to pretend she was Anna.

Sylvie quietly put on her clothes and brought out her notebook to jot down the number 998.

Connor's voice abruptly rang out behind her, "What are you writing?"

Before she could react, the notebook was snatched out of her hands.

Connor saw the line on the last page.

"Just hang in there a little longer. Soon, it'll hit 999 times."

Startled, Connor asked in a slightly trembling voice, "What will hit 999 times?"

Lowering her eyes, Sylvie said, "Once you've slept with me 999 times, I'll give you a surprise."

She purposely emphasized the word "surprise". She knew in Connor's eyes, she was nothing more than a doormat he could summon and banish at will. A surprise from her would surely be yet another trick she pulled to earn his favor.

Sure enough, Connor snorted. "I didn't think you were such a slut. You even kept a record of how many times we did it. I'm not interested in your so-called surprise."

Looking into Connor's indifferent eyes, Sylvie said coolly, "What if the surprise is that once I leave, you'll be tormented by your disorder for the rest of your life?"