002. A Humiliating Betrayal
1225 Words
Caelan didn’t bother to look up as he casually reached out and pulled Liora onto the sofa with him, his movements smooth and deliberate. With one swift motion, he shifted and pinned her beneath him, his cold eyes flicking briefly toward the door where Aveline stood. His voice was icy as he tossed out a casual remark, “If you want to stay and watch, I don’t mind.”
Why? Why did he always have to treat her like this?
Aveline bit down hard on her lip, trying to dull the sharp pain spreading through her chest. But no matter how hard she bit, it didn’t help. The ache in her heart was too deep, and it showed on her face. Her pale complexion only highlighted the agony she was trying so hard to hide.
Mrs. Bates rushed to her side, her voice filled with concern. “Mrs. Lysander, are you alright?”
Aveline forced a faint smile and shook her head. “I’m fine, Mrs. Bates. Could you please prepare the guest room for me?” She turned away, her fingers brushing the wall for support as she left the room that should have been hers.
The door closed behind her, shutting out the world. Inside, Liora's lips curved into a smile, her heavily made-up eyes glimmering with seduction. She draped her arms around Caelan’s neck, her body pressing closer. She leaned in to kiss him, but Caelan abruptly pulled back, standing up and evading her touch. He looked down at her with a mixture of contempt and amusement.
His cold, piercing gaze startled Liora, who had been lost in the moment. She had heard rumors about Caelan—how he was ruthless, wealthy, and untouchable. But facing that chilling stare firsthand, she understood why people called him the "Cold King."
He was a man so powerful, so terrifying in his detachment, that the title suited him perfectly.
Caelan’s voice was like frost, his tone cutting. “Without my permission, don’t ever try to kiss me.”
Liora hesitated, her frustration visible, but she was too determined to give up now. She wanted to be more than just another woman in his life. Even though Caelan was married, Liora didn’t care. She was willing to be his mistress if it meant staying close to him. She began to unbutton his shirt, her hands trembling with a mix of nerves and anticipation.
But Caelan caught her wrist, leaning in close to her ear with a low, mocking laugh. “Don’t bother,” he said, his fingers sliding up her dress, causing her to gasp in surprise.
Fear flashed across Liora’s face, her eyes wide with sudden uncertainty.
“What’s the matter? Not what you wanted?” Caelan’s smile was dangerous, a sharp edge to his voice.
As soon as he mentioned money, Liora’s expression shifted. Her greed flickered in her eyes as she leaned into him, her voice sultry. “Be gentle with me, Caelan.”
“Gentle?” Caelan raised an eyebrow, amused. He tightened his grip on her ankle and leaned in, his breath warm against her ear as he smiled—a smile that was far from kind. “You think a mistress deserves gentleness?”
***
Aveline didn’t sleep in the guest room that night. Instead, she wandered outside to the garden and spent the night alone, sitting under the stars, the silence pressing in around her. It was only when dawn broke that she returned, her body damp with morning dew.
As she climbed the stairs, she spotted Liora, looking disheveled and worn from the night before. The moment Liora saw Aveline, her lips curled into a condescending smile, as if she held some unspoken victory over her.
“Make us some breakfast, will you?” Liora ordered, her tone dripping with arrogance.
Aveline’s eyes met hers, unblinking. “Did you ask for it? Or did Caelan?”
Liora’s smile widened as she flicked her gaze toward the stairs. “Caelan, of course.”
Aveline’s lips curled into a faint smile as she brushed past her. “You should know, Caelan hates the smell of eggs. If you really want to get close to him, you should start by learning his preferences.” But even if you did learn everything about him, she thought bitterly, you still wouldn’t be able to reach him. She had spent eleven years understanding every little detail about him, and yet she was forever trapped in his contempt.
Liora yawned, waving a dismissive hand. “I couldn’t care less about his likes or dislikes. What matters is that he wants me.”
Aveline glanced back at her briefly, as if considering something, before she turned and walked away, her footsteps echoing down the hall.
When Aveline returned with a tray of breakfast, Caelan and Liora were already leaving the room, dressed and ready to go. Caelan's eyes flicked to the tray, and his brow furrowed in irritation.
“I thought I told you not to bother making me breakfast. I’ll never eat anything you prepare.” His voice was sharp, dismissive.
Liora laughed softly, clearly enjoying the moment. “You’d better remember that, Mrs. Lysander. You wouldn’t want to upset him again.”
Aveline stood there, tray in hand, her lips parting as if to say something, but Caelan had already walked past her, descending the stairs without a second glance.
Once again, all she saw was his back, walking away from her.
No matter what she did, no matter how hard she tried, all she ever received from him were his scornful words and the sight of his retreating figure.
Mrs. Bates watched Caelan and Liora leave, her expression full of concern. As soon as they were gone, she hurried up the stairs to where Aveline stood, frozen in place.
“Mrs. Lysander…” Mrs. Bates’ voice was soft, full of sympathy. She had witnessed Aveline’s struggles for years. The car accident had been a terrible tragedy, but it wasn’t Aveline’s fault. And yet, Caelan… He still couldn’t let it go.
Aveline took a deep breath and smiled faintly, though the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Will you join me for breakfast, Mrs. Bates? This house is far too big to eat alone.”
Caelan didn’t come home that night. Aveline ate lunch by herself, then spent the afternoon curled up on the sofa, half-watching TV, though nothing held her attention. By evening, the loneliness had become unbearable, so she retreated to the garden with her sketchbook. Sitting on the wicker chair, she began to sketch Caelan from memory, each line capturing his sharp features, his distant expression.
The sun was warm on her skin, but her hand, the one holding the pencil, felt cold to the touch.
***
That night, while Aveline sketched in solitude, Caelan was basking in the triumph of a long-awaited victory. After months of negotiations, he had finally secured the acquisition of the Horizon Group, a company ranked among the top fifty globally. It was a deal he had been pursuing relentlessly, and now, it was his.
To celebrate, the company’s executives had organized a lavish banquet. Caelan, ever the consummate professional, made his rounds, shaking hands, making toasts. But his mind was elsewhere.
By the time he returned home, it was late, and the house was dark.
- Writer
