We Were Almost

CHAPTER 1

Elizabeth glanced nervously around as she made her way to her boyfriend—Anderson's condo unit. Her heart raced, afraid that, Arthur, might have sent someone to follow her. She had escaped from the restaurant where he had introduced her to the old man she was supposed to marry—the owner of Channing Empire.

Since childhood, Elizabeth had been under the care of Arthur Bently after her mother, who had worked as a maid in his mansion, passed away. Owing him a great debt of gratitude, she couldn’t refuse when the sixty-five-year-old man asked her to marry someone to save the Bently family’s failing business.

She had barely held back the urge to throw up; he was even older than Arthur.

The ‘Channing’ may have been filthy rich, but he was a complete slob.

It might be better to just run away with Anderson.

"Catherine, you're so good at this, huh?" Anderson’s voice floated with a seductive and teasing tone.

She froze in her tracks. Her heart sank as the sound of heavy moans followed.

"Anderson," she called out, her voice breaking as she pushed open the door to the living room.

Sir Arthur’s granddaughter, Catherine, was straddled on his boyfriend’s lap!

Her disgust deepened as she noticed Catherine's glistening lips while Anderson’s pants lay unzipped.

Instead of feeling ashamed, Catherine grinned at her. She moved her hips, and Elizabeth almost wanted to cover her ears as her shameless boyfriend moaned in pleasure.

“There she is, Ands. The woman who cheated on you,” Catherine taunted.

“You two are disgusting!” Elizabeth shouted, rushing toward them in fury.

But before she could grab Catherine by the hair, Anderson shoved her hard.

“You’re going to marry an old man for money!” Anderson yelled.

“H-How did you—”

Catherine let out a mocking laugh. Her chest was exposed, littered with marks.

“Don’t act all innocent, Elizabeth. You offered yourself to marry that old man. Did you really think I didn’t know that you and Granddaddy met with your soon-to-be old hag husband today, for his money?”

“T-That’s not true!” Tears welled up in her eyes. She was doing it for their family, and yet this was the betrayal she received in return.

“Shut up, Elizabeth!”

Anderson grabbed her arm so tightly that Elizabeth thought it might break.

“So that’s why you wouldn’t let me touch you—because you had another plan. How much is that old man paying you, huh? I’ll triple it! Just sleep with me. Damn it, I’ll wear you out—”

A loud slap silenced him.

She yanked her arm free, furious at his insult. But Anderson only grinned more wickedly. “What? Has he already slept with you?”

The tears she had been holding back burst forth. She shoved him hard and ran out of the condo, her vision blurred as she frantically pressed the elevator button. She didn’t care about the people staring at her as she rushed by.

In her haste, she collided headfirst into something—or rather, someone—hard as a wall.

"Careful," a deep voice said, the tone almost commanding.

Elizabeth lifted her gaze, only to be met with a pair of piercing ash-gray eyes. Despite her tear-blurred vision, the man’s appearance registered in her mind. His brows were knitted together in a harsh line, his expression cold and unreadable.

“A-Are you single, Sir?” she asked, her voice trembling.

He tilted his head slightly, his lips tightening.

The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down Elizabeth’s spine. It felt like his eyes were piercing right through her, and his size was intimidating—tall, muscular, veins running down his solid arms now wrapped around her waist.

She wanted to flee from his predatory eyes, but the fire of revenge burned too hot in her veins.

“If you are…” she said, summoning every ounce of courage, “pop my virginity. I’m giving you my piece of hymen.”

The coldness in his expression vanished, replaced by lust in his eyes she couldn’t quite understand.

He gazed at her as though she were his willing prey—vulnerable, submissive. And he was the dominant predator.

"You look fragile. Your eyes are sad," his deep voice crawled across her skin.

“M-My boyfriend cheated on me,” Elizabeth stammered, her tears pooling at the corners of her eyes once more.

That’s when she saw it—something dark and dangerous flickered in his ash-gray eyes. His jaw clenched tightly as if her words had struck a nerve, stirring something angry within him.

“Let’s go,” he said. His tone left no room for argument.

A chill ran down her spine as the man practically lifted her from where she stood. His arm was wrapped firmly around her waist, so tight that she couldn’t even muster a protest.

The moment they entered a dimly lit establishment, loud music crashed into her ears, mingling with the shouts of people raising bottles in celebration. She watched as the ‘stranger’ took something handed to him by a passing waiter. Moments later, they were climbing the stairs, heading to who knows where.

“Do you like it rough?”

Elizabeth gasped loudly as he suddenly shoved her without warning. She bounced onto a crimson-colored bed.

The room was bathed in a deep red hue, from the sheets to the flickering candles whose smoke carried an unfamiliar scent.

“W-What do you mean by rough?” Her eyes grew heavy-lidded. A strange sensation settled over her.

“How old are you?” he asked.

Though confused, she managed to answer, “Twenty.”

One corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. “Good. Just making sure you’re not a minor. I’m Wulfric.”

“Elizabeth,” she replied, her voice almost a whisper.

Wulfric grabbed a bottle of alcohol from the bedside table, uncapping it before walking back towards her.

She obediently parted her lips as he brought the bottle’s mouth to her mouth.

“Drink,” he ordered.

Her lips parted wider, eyes locking onto his with a seductive gleam, silently inviting him to do whatever he pleased.

The bitter liquid burned down her throat, and her body felt warmer, more alive.

Without even thinking, she spread her legs as he positioned one strong thigh between them, pressing firmly into her.

“Ahhh!” she moaned.

He tilted the bottle to his lips, and Elizabeth watched as the alcohol slid down his neck and chest. When Wulfric's gaze returned to her, his eyes burned with desire.

She gasped as his large hands pushed her back onto the bed, gripping the side of her skirt before violently tearing it away. Moans and grunts filled the air as Elizabeth surrendered her virginity to a man she barely knew.

“FUCK!” Nikolaus Wulfric cursed, jolted awake by the sound. The throb in his head from last night's hangover was unbearable.

With bleary eyes, he reached for his phone, only to realize he wasn’t in his office.

He shot up, cursing again as pain surged through his senses, noticing the empty side of the bed next to him.

“Where is that woman?” he muttered, noticing only the traces of blood on the sheets.

‘Virgin but a fighter in bed, huh?’ He smirked to himself.

He usually avoided virgins; they were far too clingy. But last night’s woman had been a tigress—a tempting challenge. He found it amusing that instead of sobbing over her heartbreak, she had boldly approached him, asking for s ex.

The way she had eagerly responded to his invitation for “rough sex” amused him. Her innocent eyes had been so enticing as he had taken her. And damn, he had found that so incredibly hot!

“What?” he said, putting his phone on loudspeaker as he walked naked to the shower.

“The Vile Hotel construction in Belgium collapsed, Sir,” the voice on the line reported.

His senses sharpened immediately.

“Chairman Channing demands your presence. The plane is ready. We’ll leave in an hour.”

He grabbed a white towel and walked back into the room, completely unbothered by his nudity. With disinterest, he let his secretary continue speaking on the line as his fingers traced the bloodstains on the sheets.

“About the Bentleys, Sir.”

Only then did he pick up his phone and press it to his ear.

“Chairman canceled the engagement. The lady of the Bentley’s disagreed with the marriage—”

“No!” he interrupted firmly.

“Sir?”

The secretary sounded taken aback, knowing how strongly he had opposed that arranged marriage—until last night. He had tasted his supposed to be a wife and couldn’t shake the memory of her intoxicating scent that had driven him wild.

“I want her to be my wife!”

ELIZABETH STUMBLED as she entered the Bently mansion. The pain from her loss of virginity still throbbed, but she forced herself to move on from the chaos of the night before.

“God! Elizabeth Kaycee, open your social media now!” Her best friend, Dorothea’s panicked voice crackled through the line. “Someone posted photos of you! Nasty photos!”

Her eyes widened in horror as she followed Dorothea’s instructions. Images of her entering the club with a man flooded the internet. And not just that—there were also edited pictures claiming she had married the old man for money. They even had her face in a scene with a naked boy doing a lap dance in a crowded place she recognized.

“Do you even know what club you went to last night?” Dorothea exclaimed. “It’s Jolus Club—a den for sex-starved people. They’re notorious for dealing illegal drugs and aphrodisiacs!”

“Elizabeth, you whore!”

She didn’t have a chance to respond before Martha, Sir Arthur’s eldest daughter, thundered into the room.

“Auntie—”

Martha slapped her hard, nearly causing her to lose her balance. Dazed, she looked up only to receive another fierce strike.

“Auntie Martha!” she cried out as the woman yanked her hair.

“You ungrateful little brat! You have no shame. You’ve dragged our name through the mud. Damn you!”

“Auntie, that hurts!” Elizabeth pleaded, struggling to free herself from the older woman’s grip, but Martha was too strong. Her weight was enough to nearly rip Elizabeth's scalp off.

“She even cheated on Anderson,” Catherine spat.

"You stole him from me!" Elizabeth shot back at Catherine, only to receive yet another slap.

“You’re the curse of this family! I don’t understand what Father sees in you to even let you live under our roof!”

Elizabeth felt her head spinning from the blows to her head.

“Ma’am Martha!”

Only then did Martha stop when the mansion’s housekeeper, Cecilia, approached.

“Don’t you dare stop me, Cecilia, unless you want to get caught up in my anger!”

Cecilia quickly shook her head. “Sir Arthur is in the hospital!”