Titanic: True Love Forever

Chapter 35: Sugar Baby

This feeling is ten thousand times more thrilling than a plausible line like only you.

I tried to explain this Carl Hockley guy's actions with a reasonable attitude, the first time we met I knocked him to the point where he almost had a stomach bleed, and the second time we met was to catch a thief. Then after a series of things that happened when I was unlucky and he was unlucky, it's kind of amazing that the two of us didn't become enemies.

And now, he actually fed me with a gentle face, until I was braced for death, and he hated to press the plate to my face, just for fear that I wouldn't get enough to eat. Could it be that he'd already come up with a more tossable method out of it, though of course I preferred to believe it was because I'd pulled him back from under the engine machine that he'd become so kind, and if he didn't tie me up, I'd almost have to convince myself.

By the time the stuff was packed down, he was still sitting in that chair at the end of the bed, looking bored and wanting to talk to me. I didn't want to study, at all, what that maid's face looked like when she came in to pack up her things just now.

"Do you remember, what part of the world you're from? Ireland?" He crossed his arms and rested them at his chin, then pursed out a light smile that was just enough to not seem overly affectionate yet decent.

A mask for a good social occasion, I looked up at the ropes around my wrists, given to tying them up for the night really afraid of ruining them.

"I remember that part of Ireland being rather ...... well, barren." Unaffected by my lazy attitude, he continued to gently try to communicate with me in a gesture of 'erudition'.

"Whatever you say." I replied unconcerned, where I came from didn't mean anything to me, the most important thing in life was to never look back and take a big step forward, it was enough for me to know where I was going.

Carl choked on my uncooperative attitude, the smile on his face disappeared for a moment, but of course he quickly put away that displeasure of being stung and continued to maintain his good gentlemanly demeanor, flashing that fake smile once again, "So do you remember your parents?"

"Amnesia." I replied unconcerned, there was nothing to do right now anyway, and there was no way to come up with a plan to stop this ship while lying in bed. Since this guy was bored enough to want someone to talk to, I didn't mind having more company to talk to.

"Amnesia." He laughs a little in disbelief, lifting his own downcast eyes and touching his chin with his fingers crossed over each other, reaffirming, "Amnesia, well, you just didn't want to tell me, did you."

Even if it was just to pass the time, I would have preferred a stranger with more of a sense of humor and understanding of communication to ramble on about the topic. Not this one in front of me, whose face changed three times in less than two sentences.

"Yeah, I don't want to tell you." I told him so, curling my eyes and giving a generous, enthusiastic smile.

Carl froze, as if no one else dared to speak to him like that, causing him to be unable to comprehend what I was saying for a moment. Then he suddenly gave a helpless smile and said, somewhat cluelessly, "What about the rest? You can dance, and you've danced for a living besides that 'profession'?"

That kind of occupation? If I hadn't known he was referring to stealing, I would have thought this was a conversation between johns.

I move my fingers, my fingertips lightly tracing the air. "Yes, dancing for a living." It's probably because he's so bored after dinner that Calhokli needs to pull someone in like this to keep talking with him, and since we're all bored, it doesn't matter if we have a candlelit nightly talk session.

"Who told you to go dancing, and how do you know how to dance?" He looks like he's remembering something really bad, and somewhat unbearably runs a hand over his face, then annoyingly pulls out a cigarette and lights it, taking a hard drag.

This guy was such a heavy smoker, even if there hadn't been a financial crisis in twenty-nine years, I guess he would have finished with lung cancer.

What's wrong with dancing? Dancing is in your way?

I sniffled, attempting to ignore the frequent second-hand smoke, and then said nonchalantly, "No one, just a hobby."

"Interest?" He repeated in a high voice, that annoyance turning to anger, then Carl laughed angrily, cigarette clutched in his fingers as he c****d his head at me incredulously, "You show your thighs in front of other people, or maybe ...... you might wear very little to go dancing to that kind of inexplicable thing, and you say that it's your hobby, you're a real ......"

"Slutty?" I idly picked up for him before he was too embarrassed to say such a horrible word.

Carl had just taken a drag on his cigarette when I gagged until he was on the verge of gagging, and he choked and coughed on his own smoke, barely stopping the coughing before he coldly turned his face down and told me with commanding forcefulness, "You won't be interested in this kind of interest in the future, and I forbid you to do that nonsense dance to hook up with a man again."

Messy dance? I looked at him speechlessly, if I wasn't tied up right now, I could just jump up and make his head explode with a stool. In his eyes, dancing is "hitting on men", which man did I hit on?

"Whoever made you learn this stuff didn't mean you any good, you could probably do a little ballet, just a little." Carl said matter of factly, and he looked like he'd hate to be happy if I was better off with a crippled foot and couldn't jump.

I continued to look up at the pattern of the wall panels above the bed, the words were not coming out, next time I'll never find someone who can't talk like this to talk to.

"Haven't you ever taken ballet?" He saw that I wasn't very interested and faked another friendly smile in an attempt to make it seem like he was actually cordial and likable, but unfortunately as soon as he opened his mouth that high and mighty rich kid superiority complex was exposed.

I felt that even if I ignored him and let him talk to himself all night he could still put on a show, although more than likely he would get annoyed. After thinking for a while, I said flatly, "I began to contact dance at the age of three, studied classical ballet in France at the age of seven, came into contact with modern dance at the age of eleven, went to New York at the age of fifteen to study with modern dance masters, and at the age of seventeen, I entered an internationally renowned company as a performer and became a soloist, and then I became a principal dancer and started touring the world. At the age of twenty-one I left the company and traveled the world to experience any kind of dance, my favorites being Spanish flamenco and classical Chinese dance." That's a pretty lackluster and uninspiring synopsis, and it would have been much more impressive to say what international awards she's won, how much money she's made or how much money she's made.

Carl listened to my dry self-introduction with a cigarette in his finger, and was slow to react for a moment, he looked at me with a stiff smile and waited until the cigarette burned his finger, then he jumped in shock and shook it off, then asked in a low voice: "What? What are you talking about?"

I was silent for a moment before I turned my eyes to gaze at him, speaking so seriously for the first time, "I'm saying, if you're just a layman, put away your gesticulating buffoonery, and don't make a fool of yourself by making comments like this one in a mess."

I've been dancing almost all my life, it's in my blood and bones and can't be separated.

Carl stopped laughing too, he seemed to want to be angry, but then he went quiet, a sense of confusion appeared on his face, it looked like he was stuck in some weird puzzle. Then he said, "How old are you now?"

"Eighteen." I said calmly, I actually thought this body should be a little younger, but unfortunately I couldn't pinpoint the exact age, it was a long way to go to press my new body into the kind of foundation I had in my last life.

"You're lying to me again, you look like you're in your late teens, yet you say you're traveling the world at twenty-one. What is classical Chinese dance and that flamenco, modern dance?" Carl gave an incomprehensible laugh that sounded like he was mocking me for having my lies exposed once again.

"Consider me lying to you." I'm telling him this because I have nothing better to do than talk to him, and it's a good bet that the bastard's eyes aren't filled with anything but money in his head. Though money is a good thing, and no one else has it plastered all over their body to show it off like he does.

"Are you going to live like this?" Carl shifted his body a bit, placing his arm across the armrest while his other hand unconsciously stroked his chin as he looked up and down at me with a demeanor that resembled a conference table negotiation. "You sound like you enjoy bouncing around, but this society is cruel, Emily. You just haven't seen nice things, well, you should buy some nice clothes, have your own servants, and go up to the theater when you can to watch other people dance. You don't need to dance yourself at all; these are ...... all things that only the poor people should think about."

"I am the poor man." I summarized for him with an expressionless face.

"Just for now, you don't have to worry about money in the future." Carl finally spoke of his interest, and looking generous and friendly, he said, "I can help you with all your money difficulties."

That's pretty generous, did I misunderstand him? Is this guy actually a saintly father who has money he has nowhere to spend and uses it all to help the poor? I looked at him incomprehensibly, worried that he was possessed. His fiancée jumped into the sea and was rescued, and he only gave twenty dollars, only to turn around and come to my aid, the contrast was so great that I couldn't turn a blind eye to it.

I tried to separate my mind to observe him, with a not-so-obvious sight, silent from his knees, to his hands on the chair. His fingers gripping the chair tapped unnaturally where the armrests were, a small gesture of great anxiety, even urgency. From his white shirt to his bowtie, I finally, without moving, saw those subtle expressions on his face; he smiled a calm smile, but the corners of his mouth would twitch in a controlled way, as if that smile would collapse at any moment into a cold trace of a line.

Finally I saw his eyes, he did not dare to look at me, his eyes were slanted to the other side of the bed, but then quickly returned to me, looked at me, then continued to tilt elsewhere, this monotonous action he repeated many times. If I didn't know he had a thick skin, I would have thought he was being shy.

Carl was getting a bit fed up with my silence, he changed his sitting position again and said with an unchanged smile, "I have an empty apartment in New York, you can just move in when we get off the boat, I remember there was a big empty room in the apartment, if you like to dance I'll convert it into a dancing room. Don't go out dancing in the future okay?" Carl's fingers on the chair flexed up, looking agitated, but his facial expression didn't change at all. His eyes flickered away from me uncontrollably for another moment as he looked at me and a soft, slurred, "Just dance for me."

It's only then that I think something's wrong, did I miss something in the middle? From relief for the poor to giving you an apartment to help you build a dance house to just dance for me alone. Didn't we just start talking casually to pass the time because we were bored?

Why did the conversation end up here?

"Sounds like you want me to be your mistress me haha ......" I can't help but say jokingly, only to quickly stop hahaing as that stiff smile on Carl's face hides and the hand he's cupping his chin with goes uncontrollably next to his mouth. I see him bite his finger once and then look at me with an expectant look on his face.

Anticipation ......

I can't help but bite my teeth and ask suspiciously, "You're kidding," against the pressure of his "You say yes" face.

Carl immediately shook his head, when he finished shaking his head he realized that this action is childish, a trace of chagrin flashed on his face, then he sat up straight, put on a mature and stable look, said seriously, "You can be with me, this is a great benefit to your future."

The future ...... is of great benefit.

"You may not know me yet, my family is manufacturing steel, and many shipyards have cooperated with me. I've traveled to many countries, done a lot of business, and know many people, including the King of England." His chin tilted upwards as he spoke, confidence turning into a condescending smile that blossomed at the corners of his mouth.

Was this self-promotion at an election meeting for a U.S. Congressman? If I didn't have my hands free, I would have applauded him, the King of England sounded so great.

"These may not interest you, I know." Carl said magnanimously, "I shouldn't have to talk about such boring stuff to a lady, I just want you to know more about me."

Why would I want to get to know you? Almost dumbfounded, I looked at him, surprisingly speechless for a moment.

"If you agree, I'll have Lovejoy find you a room in upper class first, don't go back there in third class, it's not a good place." Carl finally shook off his feelings of agitation as he stroked his tail ring pleasantly and very self-congratulatoryly began to make arrangements for me.

Without talking, it would probably take less than five minutes for him to have me all set up for the next fifty years without even asking you. No wonder Rose ran off and jumped into the sea, with a control-freak pitbull like that, any sane person would have been tortured by him to the point of not being able to think straight.

Then he left his chair and moved slowly next to me, reaching out his hand to try and touch my face, and I stared at him intently. Finally, his fingers were so gentle they felt like feathers caressing my cheek, "This is a great opportunity for you to get out of your lower class and come to me."

For those who didn't know, they would have thought we'd known each other for decades because his tone was so deep that it made your scalp tingle.

I tried to repress the urge to open my mouth and bite his hand until it was a bloody mess. Taking one deep breath at a rate that would give the wrong impression that I looked nervous. Carl strokes me more gently as he says encouragingly, "I know your choices, and I have a lot to offer you, Emily."

It's almost like a line from a demon tempting an angel.

I think back to my past experiences with stage performances, the ups and downs settling down, then a slow expression of sadness, which transitions into a stoic emotion, and finally I nod to him as if I've been through an intense mental struggle.

Carl's face full of confidence all of a sudden cracked, he said with some uncertainty, "You agree?"

I continued to nod my head with two eyes that revealed delight.

Carl couldn't help but tickle the corners of his mouth, but of course he quickly pursed it back up, with a look on his face that he wanted to laugh but was holding it back.

"You can start by untangling me, Cal." I requested softly, frowning down at the right time, looking uncomfortable.

Without even thinking about it, Cal nods with a request, his hand on my knot, and I look at him with a look of adoration, watching his fingers approach the rope, touch the knot, and stop still ...... not moving.

The delighted adoration on my face said to disappear, and I glared at him with an expressionless face.

Karl Hockley also stared at me expressionlessly, just do not untie the rope. He asked abruptly, "You are not tricking me to untie the rope."

It seemed he wasn't happy to be stupid yet. Without hesitation, I replied, "No."

"You tricked me." He grabbed my wrist suddenly, pressing the rope into my flesh.

I felt nothing for his outburst, just a look of pity that he wasn't a little more foolish.

"You lied to me again." He continued his angry accusation, making it sound like he wasn't trying to subvert me, but I was trying to subvert him. Then he gave a menacing look and told me nonchalantly, "Anyway, you've already agreed to come with me when you get off the boat.

"

This is simply kidnapping to the end, isn't it? I struggled a little with my hands, trying to shake off his shackles, "Do you want to tie me up with a rope for the rest of my life?"

"Until you do as you're told and succeed in becoming a lady, I don't mind keeping you tied up." Carl was so angry with me that he was eating me alive.

I let out a pained sigh, can't this guy ever be normal? Being locked up here again, I'll go crazy from his torture before the ship sinks, and I suddenly feel a dark future ahead of me.

Carl tries to touch my face again, touching my hair, I can't help but turn my face away, he unhappily breaks my face with his hand, insisting that I face him. I tussled with him and pulled away again, he then pulled back, I tried to pull away from his octopus hand as he tried to get me to face him.

Is my face a balloon? It's almost broken from all the pinching.

I couldn't take it anymore, I didn't want to take it anymore. I glared at him with hatred in my eyes. Carl was stunned by my glare, then he glared back even more angrily.

We turned into two cockfighters, fighting in the air with glaring eyes, so gruesome that you could hear the sound of knives cutting through flesh and blood.

At the same time that I was killing him with my eyes, I moved my feet little by little. Before Carl could defend himself anywhere else, I snapped my waist and one foot softly left the bed, pressing right into the pillow. Then my foot suddenly rested on the place of his neck, and with a hard bend of my knee and a hard and strong pressure, Carl, who was caught off guard, was thus pressed directly onto the bed by my foot.

The other foot also timely wrapped over, my feet instantly clamped his neck, see my judo cross strangle.

Carl was swung to the bed by me, some panic want to get up, the result is my legs clamped on the neck, he had a few seconds to struggle at all no door, can only woefully said loudly, "Let go of me."

"You let go of me first, you dead pervert." Only know two days can open the mouth to talk about adoption, want women want crazy right.

"I said no swearing, you should start watching your behavior from now on." Carl grabbed my feet and rubbed his head against my thighs, his neat short hair turning into a cocktail nap again.

"I said get off me, you f*****g pervert." What are you touching, your hand is on top of your leg, this is on purpose.

"You already promised."

"Who promised to be your mistress? My nod is a refusal."

"What's so great about lower class, what that poor shithole can offer you." Carl's hands were wrapped in a death grip around one of my legs and he finally broke free.

"I'm sorry ......," I said without hesitation as I stomped my other foot into his face, instantly distorting it, before decisively saying, "I can't see you."

You control freak who can't understand people and likes to play bondage deserves to have your fiancée taken from you by Jack.