Semua Bab His Icy Regret: I Quit My Hockey Secret Lover's Wet Sheet: Bab 11 - Bab 20

“The nurse said you fainted from overwork,” Marco scoffed, “But I know that’s not the real reason. You… were thinking too much about some underhanded trick to play me, that’s why.”Marco bent down, brushed aside the strands of hair clinging to Hazel’s neck, and planted his lips there. He sucked hard on the pale skin, leaving a red trail.He pulled his face away slightly, his lips curling into a dark, crooked smile as his eyes scanned his work of art. “Serves you right.”The red mark stood out in stark contrast to her vulnerable, milky-white skin.“She didn’t even move an inch, hm?” A soft laugh escaped his smile. "What should I do with you?"The effects of the hospital’s medication seemed to have submerged her consciousness into the deepest depths of sleep.Marco murmured. “Even if someone took you away to be sold tonight, you probably wouldn’t even notice, Hazel,” he whispered hoarsely into the silence of the room, his thumb gently stroking the kiss mark.His gaze turned into a sharp

The phone felt cold against my ear. The HR manager's voice on the other end sounded like the distant buzzing of bees."You may resign at any time without paying anything."For a moment, I thought I had heard it wrong. “…What?”Silence stretched on my end. My fingers tightened around the phone. "Why... all of a sudden?"Had that jerk suddenly developed a conscience just from seeing me collapse?I shook my head, and a short, breathless laugh slipped out of me.No. That man didn’t even know how to spell empathy. He was the same man who encouraged me to become his mistress after he married.So, what was this? Moral charity?"The company has reviewed the contract," the HR manager continued, "and decided it needed to change the clause." Her explanation faded into a dull hum.I stared at the wall, unfocused. "Ah, you did?" A bitter taste crept onto my tongue. I knew it must be pressure from Marco, given that he was the club owner's son and their best player, and they couldn't afford to refu

Crap.Even I knew I was being stupid. Why should I care about him? Whether he had a fever, an allergy, or even if he collapsed right in front of me, I should’ve just stood there with my arms crossed and watched.Or… had my body become too docile around him? Was my muscle memory more obedient than my pride?“Listen.” I met his eyes, so close I could see my own reflection in those dark brown pupils that looked like they wanted to swallow me whole. “You only believe what you want to believe, don’t you?”I looked away and slowly pushed myself up.Marco was still gripping my wrist, but this time I put up a fight. I tensed my arm muscles, refusing to be pulled back into his gravity.My resistance seemed to irritate him. He jerked his grip away with a cynical chuckle.“Still playing hard to get, huh?” His voice was hoarse yet sharp. “And you were so hungry that night.”Hungry? That night?What the hell was he talking about?I took a deep breath, the cold dorm air stinging my lungs. Hold it t

Thick, red liquid spurted out, staining the expensive white shirt of the man pressing down on my shoulder.“Bastard! Blood!” he screamed, jumping back as if he’d been splashed with acid. He frantically checked his neck and face, his eyes widening as he searched for wounds.“What happened, dude?!”But he found nothing. Of course, he wouldn’t, because I wasn’t stupid enough to hurt him, the young master of an influential family who would be a nightmare to deal with.“The fuck? This crazy bitch…” His breath quickened as he turned to me. “She cut herself.”Great. What a ridiculous, panicked expression.I lowered my trembling hand, the shard of glass from the broken picture frame still clutched in my grip. A cold sting burned along my arm. I forced myself to stand, though my knees felt like jelly. Blood from my nose and hands dripped onto the floor in a steady rhythm.I lifted my head and stared at them, my eyes probably looking unhinged.“One more step,” my voice came out hoarse, “and I’l

[Marco Marten]The soles of Marco’s sneakers crunched over shards of champagne glass, grinding them into dust along the paved path. He had just stepped out into the front garden when the sight before him brought him to a halt.The night air, once filled with expensive perfume, now reeked of torn earth and gasoline. Decorative lights hung in broken strands, their loose ends sparking faintly over the trampled grass.But the most striking sight stood in the center of it all.The purple sports car.The hood was caved in, as if something heavy had been smashed into it again and again. The oversized ribbon lay crumpled and filthy on the ground, and one of the side mirrors dangled uselessly from a thin wire.Marco’s eyes narrowed.Hazel did this?Near the gate, Hendrik was shouting, veins bulging in his neck as he pointed toward the dark street. “Get her! Go after that bitch! What are you security guards even paid for?!”A reasonable command. Yet none of them moved.“Hendrik, enough.” Mr. Si