“Tonight, don’t sleep in another room. Stay with me,” Yvonne murmured, suppressing her disgust and self-loathing at her own actions. She forced herself to seduce a man that she found utterly repulsive.
Under her flirtatious exterior, her gaze remained cold and calculating, flickering over the spot on his chest where the cross rested.
“Yvonne... What’s wrong? Are you running a fever? Are you drunk?” Taylor's voice grew hoarse with desire, but he restrained himself, even lifting a hand to check her forehead.
“I’m fine. I’m fully awake and know exactly what I’m doing...” Yvonne leaned in closer, gazing upon him with falsified tenderness. “We don’t need a wedding to make us husband and wife. We already are in every way that matters. Since we’re married, shouldn’t we be sharing a bed, enjoying the pleasures of it together...?”
Yvonne was desperate to get her hands on information Taylor kept hidden on his person, no matter the cost—even if it meant selling what was left of her sullied body.
She had a foreboding feeling that something terrible was about to happen and that neither she nor Taylor would be able to leave Sentania alive. She needed to get the evidence that would bring Christopher down as quickly as possible.
“Yvonne, you’re my woman. We have all the time in the world—there’s no need to rush.” Taylor’s pupils were dilated, dark with desire. He took a deep breath, struggling to keep himself in check.
“Taylor... you find me filthy, don’t you?” Yvonne feigned disappointment, her eyes misting. “You’re not with me because you love me. After all these years together, it’s been just out of pity—you feel sorry for me...”
“No! That’s not true!” Taylor refuted vehemently as he grabbed her shoulders. “Yvonne, I love you! It’s because I love you so much that I can’t bear to touch you! No one understands better than I do what you’ve been through. That’s why I won’t force you into anything. Marrying you... It’s more about protecting you than anything else!”
Yvonne was taken aback, staring at him as if she were seeing him for the first time. She remembered that if Taylor had not pleaded with Christopher to take her as his wife, she would have long since ended up buried in an unmarked grave.
There was a flicker of gratitude in her heart, but that faint feeling could not outweigh the years of atrocities he had committed. It could not erase the image of Oscar’s vibrant life extinguished; the blood pooled around him as he died a gruesome death before her eyes.
“Ever since we arrived in Sentania, I’ve felt this inexplicable anxiety, and I haven’t had a single restful night,” Yvonne said softly as she rested her head on Taylor’s shoulder. “Stay with me tonight, please?”
That night, they shared a bed innocently. Exhausted from a night of slaughter, Taylor fell into a deep sleep the moment his head hit the pillow.
Yvonne’s eyes snapped open, and she stared unblinkingly at the man beside her. She held her breath as she began to unbutton his shirt, her hands trembling. She held the cross in her palm, gripping it as if her life depended on it.
…
Sentania was a country with forests so dense that the tree canopies stretched on for miles. The scenery was equally as breathtaking, and they were blessed with a temperate tropical climate.
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