Don't Touch The Bride のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

Cheryl Mr. Han has been avoiding me again. Since the night we kissed, it’s like my face has become forbidden to him. And to top it all off, he had the audacity to miss my math competition. The first one I had ever entered—and I won. I didn’t expect the damned award to be this heavy, though. He replied to my text with a simple ‘okay’, but I never saw him. Neither did Chris. Maybe he was there, lurking in the back, not wanting to draw attention, avoiding the seat that had been reserved for him. But if he had been there, he would’ve at least congratulated me, wouldn’t he? I sighed and tossed the heavy glass trophy onto the seat beside me. “Do you know where he is?” I asked Chris, who was driving me home. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “He hates me,” I groaned, throwing my head back against the seat. Chris snorted. “He bought you a yacht.” I scowled. “Yeah, and now he’s messing with my head. One day, he’s avoiding me like I have the plague, and the next, he’s looking

Cheryl “Relax, baby, okay?” Mr. Han’s raspy voice filled my ears, low and soothing.I nodded, but I couldn’t relax. My chest was hammering, my skin burning with anticipation.His lips met mine—soft, deliberate, teasing. The only sounds in the room were our mingled breaths and the wet press of our lips. He kissed me gently at first, then deeper, his tongue sliding against mine in slow, sensual strokes.I melted into him, my fingers digging into his shirt, needing more.Mr. Han took my hand, guiding it between my thighs. My breath hitched.His other hand slid beneath my head, tilting it up so he could kiss me harder, deeper, like he wanted to drown me in him.Heat coiled in my stomach.I loved the way he kissed me. The way he devoured my lips, like he was savoring me, like he had all the time in the world to ruin me.Then he did something unexpected.He pressed his fingers against mine, urging me to move them over my slick folds—controlling my touch without ever making contact himself.

Cheryl It was late.1 AM.Just after I had managed to cry myself to sleep, my phone buzzed beneath my pillow.My heart leaped.I scrambled for it, hands shaking, hoping—praying—that it was Mr. Han finally returning my missed calls and answering my unread messages.But it wasn’t him.It was Minnie—his twin sister.I swallowed down my disappointment and pressed the phone to my ear.“Unnie…” ( sister)“Hey, baby. How was your exam today? Are you okay? I’m sorry for calling so late. I just wanted to check on you.”I knew what this meant.Mr. Han had called her—not me—to ask if I was okay.I bit my lip. I had FaceTimed Minnie earlier to wish her a happy birthday, and she’d called me back later to chat.Now, she was calling because he told her to.“My exam was fine, Unnie,” I murmured. “And yes, I’m okay, but… Mr. Han—he’s not home, and he won’t talk to me.”My voice cracked at the end, and I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself not to cry.“It’s okay, baby,” she soothed. “Go back to slee

Cheryl The weekend passed blissfully without Mr. Han’s presence interrupting my life. I was fine. I didn’t care about him anymore.My Oppa was dead to me.I had just finished my exams for the day, and relief washed over me. Two more damn papers, and I’d be free for the summer. But now, I had to decide what to do with it.Stay home and rot?Intern at Tonyhan and deal with Mr. Han?Both options were frustrating. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible. Then, I remembered the form I had brought along to fill out—the one for the summer math program at Harvard.Cambridge or Boston? I don’t know.I wasn’t entirely sure if I wanted to go yet, but I just needed a little push. Taking out the form, I began filling it in.A few moments later, Anna slid into the seat across from me, sipping on her smoothie.“Gimme a second, I need to finish this,” I mumbled, keeping my focus on the form.“What’s that?” she asked, adjusting her glasses and leaning forward for a peek.“The summer math prog

Cheryl Mr. Han was taking longer than I expected. Panic clawed at my chest, but I forced myself to believe he was just having trouble getting the money.Mark leaned in close, his breath hot against my cheek as he grabbed my jaw. “The longer your husband takes, the more I want to pluck one of your pretty little eyes and send it to him,” he sneered, laughing.I jerked my head away, disgust curling in my stomach.Then his phone rang.Mr. Han.Mark smirked as he answered. “Come to the basement, Han. And pray the cops aren’t with you, because if they are, I’ll kill Cheryl and gladly go back to jail.”Minutes later, the door burst open.Mr. Han stepped in, still in his work suit, his tie loosened, his face dark with fury. He looked disheveled, rougher than I’d ever seen him. Without a word, he lunged—grabbing Mark by the collar and slamming him back. The briefcase in his hand cracked against Mark’s head with a sickening thud.Mark stumbled, blood streaking down his temple.“Oppa, he has a