Chapter 9-Demons who look alike.
1612 Words
Rainie's POV
The man's voice held a softness to it, but the insatiable greed lurking in his swollen eyes was unmistakable.
I was taken aback, vigorously shaking my head and clutching my robe tightly, my face flushing as I tried to find my voice.
However, before I could say anything, his hand reached out and caressed my neck gently.
"What a pitiable sight. Who has treated you so harshly?" he remarked, his gaze filled with a hunger he couldn't conceal.
I quickly pulled away from his touch, my eyes widening as I stared at him.
He narrowed his eyes slightly and retorted, "Don't pretend to be a fierce maiden! Have some sense; I won't skimp on compensation."
With those words, he grasped my hand and began pulling me towards the exit.
Startled, I let out a cry for help, but those who could afford a room on this floor held a certain status, and who would dare to interfere?
Despite the occasional passerby, they all seemed to ignore my plight as they glanced away.
Clearly annoyed by my cries, the man covered my mouth with his other hand.
I bit down with all my might, causing him to wince.
He retaliated by delivering a harsh slap that left my cheek tingling and a metallic taste of blood in my mouth.
Just then, a door swung open behind me, and Alexander emerged. A casual glance in my direction revealed me being forcibly lifted from the ground by a stranger.
The stranger's cheeks turned crimson, a touch of scarlet at the corners of his mouth, and in that instant, Alexander grasped the situation, his gaze darkening.
The man's eyes lingered on my concealed bosom with an undeniable lust, unaware that my neckline was being lifted from behind.
Suddenly, my neckline was yanked up, and a ferocious blow struck his spine.
The pain was so intense that he collapsed to the ground, howling in a manner reminiscent of a butchered pig.
Alexander walked over to me, stepping on the man's hand with a solid thud.
The sound of bone crunching accompanied his step as the man's eyes rolled back, the agony rendering him unconscious.
Turning his attention to the shadows where his bodyguards lurked, Alexander motioned discreetly.
"Take care of this quietly. Don't let it escalate to the old man's attention."
I remained on my knees, shivering uncontrollably.
My arm was raised, but my legs felt like jelly, causing my body to slump downwards.
Furrowing his brow slightly, Alexander extended his arm to help me up, my awareness hazy as I closed my eyes, following the rhythmic sound of his footsteps.
Abruptly, I was placed on a cold, unyielding surface.
When I opened my eyes, I found myself beside a bathtub, its porcelain surface resembling a piece of polished jade in the soft lamplight.
My bathrobe was swiftly removed, and I gasped in shock. His fingers held my chin, forcing me to face the large mirror beside the bathtub.
As Alexander released his grip, he remarked with a touch of dryness, "Take a look at yourself in this wretched state."
He turned on the faucet, and warm water flowed into the tub, the steam rising gently. Gradually, my frigid body began to thaw.
I looked down, watching the waterline rise slowly, the ripples distorting my reflection. His voice reached me through the mist, carried by a comforting warmth, hinting at a subtle tenderness.
"Anywhere that guy laid his dirty hands on you? Get yourself cleaned up, then come with me to grab something to eat," Alexander's tone was calm, but the concealed greed in his swollen eyes was unmistakable.
My eyes welled up, and I bit my lip to hold back a sob. Just as Alexander was about to stand, he heard my choked sound and settled back down by the bathtub.
His hand reached out to wipe away the traces of blood from my lips.
Shivering, tears in my eyes, I looked up at him, my voice quivering, "You... don't want me to leave?"
His grip tightened suddenly, and my cut lip met the hardness of his teeth, making me wince.
I closed my mouth to avoid more pain. Through the steam, I observed the slight furrow of his brows, and understanding the unspoken warning, I stayed silent.
He picked up a bottle of shower gel, squeezed out some foam, then pulled me up.
I stood there like a statue, allowing him to spread the foam across my body with a forceful motion.
Though my skin stung, I dared not object, letting him thoroughly cover me with the lather.
Standing in the water, I felt lifeless, as if I were a sculpture. Inside Alexander, a simmering irritation brewed. He tossed the showerhead into the tub with a clatter, his voice icy, "Hurry up."
The bathroom door closed, and I finally let go of the tension that had been gripping me.
Slowly, I eased myself back into the tub, watching the foam dissolve into the water.
Overwhelmed by emotions, I couldn't help but cry openly.
How had things come to this? Moon Goddess, please return my wolf to me, please save me.
However, I couldn't afford to linger.
I had learned enough about Alexander's temperament.
He wouldn't resort to physical violence or verbal abuse, but a casual action of his could easily push me to my limits.
Stepping out of the bathroom, I found my clothes, dressed hastily, and then quickly blow-dried my hair.
Alexander sat at a distance, his gaze fixed on me.
He asked, his tone nonchalant, "Still in the same attire?"
I whispered softly, "I... didn't bring... any other clothes."
He didn't say another word, waiting until I finished combing my hair before signaling for me to follow.
In the upscale restaurant downstairs, the waiter's eyes widened at my shabby clothing, but his surprise quickly disappeared upon noticing Alexander's dominant presence.
Respectfully, he escorted us to our reserved window-side table.
Alexander swiftly placed the order, and I nervously perused the French menu.
His voice, calm yet tinged with authority, reached me, "You... haven't eaten anything today?"
I nodded in response, and Alexander shifted his gaze away. He turned to the waiter and instructed, "Go to the nearby restaurant and fetch a soup."
The waiter, caught off guard by such an unusual request, didn't dare to defy him and promptly followed his instructions.
Confused by his sudden concern and fearing to provoke his anger, I kept my head lowered, focusing on the intricate patterns of the tablecloth.
With his phone in hand, he checked his emails, and a faint smile unconsciously graced his lips. It had been a month since I met him, and he rarely smiled.
Even when he did, it was usually a smirk or a disdainful curl of the lips. This genuine smile before me was the first of its kind.
Unlike Dylan, when he smiled, there was a subtle dimple on his left cheek.
Yet even without that distinctive feature, this smile stood apart.
Upon deeper reflection, Dylan's smiles were often tinged with profound contemplation, perhaps born from the hardships he endured.
After entering elementary school, his foster mother, initially believed to be unable to conceive, surprisingly became pregnant.
His social standing plummeted, and it wasn't until he got his own wolf at eighteen that he learned he was a beta. However, Dylan led a cautious life, always having to hide his true self.
Feeling my gaze, Alexander looked up at me.
My gaze, veiled by memories, remained fixed on his face, yet in reality, I wasn't seeing him—I was seeing someone else through him.
His smile suddenly vanished.
He set his phone down on the table, the sound jarring me.
Baffled, I stared at him.
Narrowing his eyes slightly, he leaned in, capturing the residual warmth in my eyes.
He said, "Miss Spark, regrets won't help you now. Don't forget, who chose to abandon Dylan through their actions?"
My face drained of color, and I clenched the tassels hanging from the tablecloth.
A familiar cold smile curved on Alexander's lips.
"You willingly crawled into my bed for money. Later, upon discovering he was from the Heffernan family, you wanted to return, thinking he lacked self-respect and would take you back? Face reality and work diligently to please me in exchange for your graduation certificate."
He fell silent, and I suppressed the urge to cry, nervously twisting my fingers.
Soon, the waiter arrived with a soup.
The soup had been cooked to a velvety thickness, its rich flavors evident, but with each spoonful, it felt akin to swallowing grains of sand.
Having indulged in every course from appetizers to dessert, Alexander rose from his seat and left the restaurant.
I hesitated briefly before trailing behind him, exiting the dining area.
Back in the room, he seized me forcefully, drawing me into an embrace. His fingers gripped my chin, his gaze fixed on mine, and he spoke with deliberate slowness, "Take a good look, who am I?"
My chin smarted, and a potent wave of humiliation surged through me.
Biting my lip, I remained silent.
"Speak."
Sensing the frostiness in his voice, I snapped out of my daze, memories of being roughly ejected from the room earlier flooding my mind.
Not daring to resist, I responded softly, "Alexander..."
He released his hold, and I let out a relieved breath.
However, that relief was short-lived. In the next moment, I was shoved to the ground, the cold tiles sending shivers through my body as their frigidity seeped through the thin fabric of my clothing.
Before I could fully react, my garments were unceremoniously torn away by his strong hands.
- Writer
