Today, he was unusually talkative. "Diana, as long as I'm here, you'll have a family. Why waste your energy on those who don't love you? Once this busy period is over, I'll take you on a world tour during my vacation."
I pushed him away with all my strength, wiped the blood from the corner of my lips and smiled brightly.
"Alright, I'll do as you say."
He didn't love me and indeed, I had no reason to waste energy on him.
My obedient compliance made Vincent's eyes darken. His hand eagerly reached under my clothes. "Diana, what kind of spell have you cast on me? Why can't I stop wanting you?"
I took a step back, avoiding him from getting any closer. It wasn't that I had cast a spell on him.
The familiar scent on him clearly told me that he couldn't bear to deal with Evelyn, so he came home to take his frustrations out on me instead.
Vincent saw me retreat and showed a momentary hint of displeasure, but soon his interest was rekindled.
"Are you playing hard to get? I like it..."
I coldly watched as he kissed me again and reminded him. "This is the master bedroom."
Sure enough, the lust on Vincent's face slowly faded.
For five years, although I was his girlfriend by name, I never had the right to sleep in his master bedroom.
To be precise, I had never even touched his bed.
In the past, he was afraid Mrs. Cross would find out about our relationship and pressure us into an early marriage and children.
So, I naively helped him keep it a secret.
As Vincent eagerly lifted me out of the master bedroom, Mrs. Cross suddenly came downstairs.
"Vincent, you two..."
Facing Mrs. Cross's scrutinizing and questioning gaze, Vincent, without a hint of embarrassment, blamed her.
"Mom, why don't you make a sound when you walk? Diana twisted her ankle and you suddenly came out without even worrying about scaring her..."
He held me tightly, subtly signaling me to cooperate.
Taking this opportunity, I struggled and jumped down. To my surprise, I really twisted my ankle.
Vincent looked at the cold sweat beading on my forehead and subtly gave me a thumbs-up.
Mrs. Cross, with a thoughtful look, watched her son busying himself for me, as if she wanted to say something but held back.
Finally, under my pleading gaze, she turned and went upstairs.
Vincent then turned and carried me into the bedroom that he had spent a lot of money decorating for me.
The most costly part of the room was the soundproofing.