Read with BonusRead with Bonus

Chapter 3

"Why?" he asked.

Harper looked away, spinning a flimsy lie. "I-I’m scared. I took some medicine. "

She was so beautiful and that pretty face made her look vulnerable.

Francis' heart softened for no reason. He turned back, expertly unlocking the door to her apartment and ushering her onto the bed.

"I'm fine," she hinted, signaling that he should leave.

After all, Francis was accustomed to his large mansion and had never lived in such small apartment.

"Hmm," he hummed, acknowledging her words, yet he didn't move to leave. Instead, he began to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt...

Harper was dumbfounded, "Why are you undressing?!"

"I'm not feeling well."

The implication was clear – she did not want make love tonight.

"Harper, I’m not that much of a beast.”

Francis finally turned away with a satisfied grin upon seeing her flushed face, heading to the bathroom.

Soon after, Francis emerged, glancing at Harper and casually noting that the bath was ready.

Harper was a stickler for cleanliness, she yearned to soak in the tub.

She stood up too fast, a moment of dizziness nearly sending her sprawling.

Thankfully, Francis's timely support steadied her, and in one swift motion, he scooped her up and carried her toward the bath.

His familiar scent made her heart beat faster, and she stuttered nervously, "Put-put me down."

He obliged, setting Harper by the tub before starting to unfasten the buttons of her dress with experienced hands. His precision was like that of a man reviewing documents – utterly natural.

The cool touch of his fingertips sent involuntary tremors through Harper.

She clutched at her neckline, blushing profusely, and managed to say with flustered annoyance, “I can do it myself, now get out!”

"It's not the first time I've taken a bath with you."

Her ears burned crimson at the reminder.

Each time after they made love, Francis often carried her to the bath tub.

"Francis, please leave."

He stopped teasing her and stepped out, closing the door behind him,

Feeling refreshed after her bath, Harper stepped out in her robe. To her surprise, Francis was still there.

Choosing to ignore him, she prepared for bed, but he caught her waist and ushered her back to the bathroom.

"You're going to sleep with your hair wet?"

Francis began to blow-dry her hair after spreading it out.

The scent that surrounded him stirred her heart.

His tenderness was torturous. She feared she might never let go.

With her hair finally dry, she faced the man in the mirror and thank him.

Francis stood close behind her, arm propped on the counter, eyes lazy in the reflection. "And how will you thank me?" he flirted.

Harper choked on her surprise, wide-eyed and speechless. She used to thank him with sex, but that was no longer an option.

They were on the brink of divorce!

Abruptly, he reached out, seized Harper's chin, and turned her face toward him , "Don’t ever look at someone else like that again."

As Francis’s face drew closer, Harper felt cornered and turned away, trying to escape.

But he held her by the shoulders, his voice deep and commanding, "Don't move."

Their breaths mingled, eyes entwined, and Harper thought he was about to kiss her. Her heartbeat uncontrollably, with fluttering eyelashes.

The man’s lips left a tender kiss on her forehead and hugged her.

Then he touched her flushed cheek, his voice was so gentle: "This is your punishment."

Harper was speechless. ...

She fell so easily into his tenderness, too effortlessly intoxicated by his gentle demeanor.

The sudden ring of her phone dragged Harper back to reality from the drowning sweetness.

She consciously pulled away, giving space.

Francis answered the phone in the balcony.

It lasted a few minutes before he hung up and came back inside.

Harper was already wrapped up in bed.

Not waiting for him to speak, she muffled under the blanket, "Close the door when you leave."

"Get some rest," he said, grabbed his coat, glanced back at the bed one last time, and left.

Only after she heard the door close did Harper shredded the pregnancy test she had tucked away in the drawer.

Everyone knew that Chloe was the only person Francis had ever loved. How did their two-year marriage compare to the love between Chloe and Francis.

She was now somewhat relieved she hadn't spoken anything about the pregnancy.

At a private hospital

"Francis."

A weak voice called from the hospital bed.

Chloe was dressed in a lilac-colored V-neck gown, which clung softly to her figure, outlining her slender shape.

Francis turned and walked over, his tone soft and concerned, “You’re awake.”

"Sorry for being such a hassle," Chloe said with a twinge of guilt.

Her words were drenched with emotion, serving as a reminder to Francis that she is still special to him.

"It's no big deal," Francis replied, his face betraying little emotion. "Hungry? I can have Victor pick up something."

"I'm not in the mood to eat," Chloe said softly, her voice probing. "Where were you tonight? I didn't interrupt anything, did I?"

"No," Francis responded calmly, glancing at his watch. "It's too late. You should get some rest."

"Francis, I'm scared," Chloe's voice broke as she reached out to touch his waist from behind.

"Stay with me tonight, won't you?"

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter