Allure: Peerless Beauty

chapter 13

Ada struggled to get up from the ground and staggered towards the door, but he grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back.

The round bed was a soft, elegant aquamarine, resembling the deep sea, filled with a romantic atmosphere, but at this moment, it became the butcher's block.

Gilbert Bruce was like a cunning executioner! He knew how to subdue her, preventing her from struggling too much, yet not causing too much harm. He knew how to silence her cries for help, rendering her calls unanswered. He knew exactly what threats to use to make her drop her guard and completely submit.

He was a cold-blooded executioner, allowing her scalding tears to flow like rivers down his cheeks, but remaining unmoved by her cries and pleas.

The roses in the vase bloomed recklessly, their vibrant red akin to blood, flaunting their beautiful life, yet capable of wilting in an instant. It was a release bordering on despair, with no past, no future, no hope, only a dizzying desolation.

Her body was exposed in the pale moonlight, her pained eyes rising and falling in his indifferent gaze.

Finally, at the brink of breaking, she almost shatteredly begged him, "Gil, Gil, please..."

In fact... she knew what he wanted to hear, she had always known.

But she couldn't say it, even as she bit her lip until it bled. Yet, at this brink of collapse, his unyielding demeanor nearly drove her to the brink of collapse. She hadn't expected him to go this far; she was his defeated subordinate, forced to submit to his cruelty.

This monosyllabic nickname was an intimate code word spoken only between the two of them, gently circling the tip of her tongue like the autumn breeze sweeping through the countryside, warm yet lonely.

The Bruces and Lambs were originally close friends, with Gilbert being a bit older. But when Ada was young, unlike her other siblings, she never called him Gilbert. She didn't want their relationship to feel distant; she simply called him "Gil."

"So, you still remember, you remember everything," Gilbert held her tear-stained face, "Little Ada, you were never innocent; you owe me a promise. You promised to be my bride."

Her tears flowed uncontrollably, like a burst dam. Yes, she always remembered, even though her life had been full of twists and turns, she never dared to forget.

He held her trembling body, overwhelmed by her tears, repeatedly calling her name, "Ada, Ada... I know you'll hate me. What I'm doing today will make you hate me to the core. But..."

He paused, cupping her face with both hands, forcing her to look into his eyes, "I won't let you go. The Lamb owes me too much, and I will collect debts from each and every one... including you."

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When dawn broke, Ada stepped out of the bedroom. She saw gardeners trimming the lawn in the courtyard, and cooks preparing breakfast in the kitchen. It turned out that there were people here; they just knew how to become invisible at the right time.

The servants were surprised to see her, understandably so. Given the upheaval of the previous night, it was miraculous that she could stand here now, unscathed.

Ada walked out of the villa alone, with no one stopping her, and she didn't need to explain anything to anyone.

As she approached the door, the early morning driver ran over and asked if she needed a car.

Ada didn't say anything; she just waved her hand and walked away without looking back.

She got on a bus heading towards the city center, joining other early risers. As soon as she boarded, she felt the gaze of others on her with a strange look. Ada didn't understand until she lowered her head and saw the bruises all over her neck. She had walked too fast and hurriedly, not even noticing them until now. She wanted to cover them with her hand, but the bruises on her wrist were even more conspicuous.

Ada sat at the back of the bus, where it was more spacious. She curled up, hugging her knees, as if trying to ease her physical discomfort. She was in agony, trembling in the corner of the bus. The bruises and scars on her thighs were concealed by her skirt, but a glaring crimson mark on her shin couldn't be hidden.

"Dear, are you okay? Do you want me to call the police for you?" An elderly woman sitting nearby looked at her anxiously.

She shook her head, her expression weary, "Thank you, I'm fine."

Ada rested her face against the window, gazing at the continuous coastline. The cool sea breeze blew in, carrying specks of golden sand. The morning sea breeze was chilly, and she was dressed lightly. She hugged her chest with her hand, feeling a wrenching pain. It felt as if she could see Gilbert's eyes shining brightly in the darkness, so resolute and cold.

At that moment, his hand was on her neck, his lips close to her ear, his breath icy. "I've been waiting for you to grow up since you were fourteen. Over the years, across such a long time, you've finally grown up and appeared before me, but you've completely forgotten about me. Ada, do you know how sad I was when I realized this? I've been waiting for you, waiting for you to remember me. You were within my reach, but I didn't dare to approach you. I yearned for you every day, suffering in agony. But now, you're telling me that you remembered everything."

Gilbert suddenly chuckled and tightened his grip, "Perhaps I should just strangle you."

She felt a wave of suffocation, but what awaited her wasn't death; it was a feeling even more terrifying. It was living and dying simultaneously, loving and hating, half paradise, half hell. It was tearing her body and soul into messy fragments, then piecing them back together in an excruciating way, making her almost deformed, agonizingly alive.