Chapter 60

Chapter 60
Elise's POV

I heard Victor laugh.

He placed the phone beside me, and then he began to move—violently.

"No... don't do this...!"

I only managed a single terrified cry before my voice shattered under Victor's thrusts.

I couldn't suppress my screams.

Or rather, even if I could, it would be meaningless.

Victor's lower abdomen slammed against my ass with brutal force, producing a continuous series of slapping sounds. The wet sounds of his cock moving in and out. Even more perversely, Victor deliberately spanked my ass, creating crisp, sharp noises.

I knew Liam might be listening. But this tense stimulation only made me more sensitive.

I felt all the sounds being amplified, and I could no longer think about what Liam might be thinking.

"Victor..."

I called out Victor's name, unable to distinguish whether I was pleading or resisting.

He moved faster and faster, harder and harder, seemingly with no intention of stopping.

I had completely forgotten about Liam's existence, my mind consumed by a single thought—if this continues, I'm going to die, aren't I?!

I didn't know how many times I climaxed. Even after Victor buried himself deepest inside and came, my body continued to tremble uncontrollably.

He didn't withdraw immediately, but maintained this position as he picked up the phone from the nightstand.

I heard Victor say in a deliberately surprised voice, "Liam, you're still listening? But we need to go take a shower now."

Victor hung up the phone.

I finally recovered from my climax, my body going slack, nearly collapsing to the floor. Victor caught me quickly.

"Don't worry, I told you I'd make you forget him." Victor maliciously waved the phone in front of me, then casually tossed it aside. "But I don't want to be interrupted again next time."

Victor carried me to the bathtub and ran warm water. Only then did rationality gradually return to my mind.

I looked at Victor somewhat dazedly, finding it hard to believe what had just happened. But Victor was even more wicked than I'd imagined—he could see the accusation in my eyes, but his attitude was one of complete indifference.

"Don't look at me like that," Victor's gaze fixed on me. "This is the lesson you deserved. I won't allow you to think about him while you're with me."

Fine.

I scooped up a handful of water and splashed it on my face.

Unexpectedly, I didn't feel very apologetic about it.

The breakup with Liam was because of Victor's demand. But until today, I had been constantly thinking about how I should give Liam closure, how to end this relationship of several years. I was afraid Liam wouldn't be able to accept it, and also afraid he would continue to pester me.

But now, fuck it, no more explanations needed.

I didn't believe that after listening to that phone call, Liam could still calmly consider me his girlfriend.

Maybe that was Victor's intention too? It didn't matter. Liam and I—it was completely over.

---

Liam's POV

When the sounds came through from the other end of the phone, I thought I'd misheard.

No.

I hoped I'd misheard.

But the sounds were too clear. Clear enough that every detail drove into my ears like nails—panting, the sound of bodies colliding, and Elise's voice.

Her cries.

"Victor..."

I called the bartender over and got a private room.

I didn't know how I made it from the bar to here. The floor beneath my feet seemed to sway, the walls spun, the lights stretched into long halos, everything becoming blurred and unreal. But I clearly remembered one thing—I'd thrown everyone out of the private room.

"Get out."

That's what I said to those hostesses. They probably hadn't seen this kind of scene before. They froze for a moment, then left one by one. The bartender wanted to say something but shut his mouth after I glared at him.

The door closed.

I sat alone in the darkness.

The phone hadn't been hung up. I kept holding it. The screen's light illuminated my face, probably revealing an extremely ugly expression. But I couldn't see it. I could only hear.

Sounds transmitted from the receiver.

One after another.

Elise's voice.

She was crying out. Not the painful kind, not the forced kind. I could tell. We'd been together for so long—of course I could tell. It was—

It was pleasure.

She was enjoying it.

With a man. With my uncle. On the other end of the phone, while I was still holding my cell phone.

I didn't know how much time passed.

One minute? Ten minutes? An hour?

Time lost all meaning. Every second stretched into infinity. I felt like I'd been thrown into the deep sea, water pressure coming from all directions, squeezing, trying to crush my chest cavity.

What kind of tone did she use when she called his name?

That tone—she used to use it with me.

No. That's not right. She never used that tone with me. When we were together, she was quiet, restrained, sometimes even passive. She never cried out this loudly. She was never this invested. She never—

So that's it.

That's where the problem was.

I wasn't inadequate. I simply never truly had her from the beginning.

This realization was more devastating than any insult.

Rage churned up from my stomach, burning through my throat, burning through my nasal cavity, burning until my eyes stung. I wanted to smash things. I wanted to scream. Wanted to shatter this phone, demolish this entire bar, tear the world into pieces.

But my body couldn't move.

I just sat there. Listening.

Listening to Elise's voice reaching some peak again and again, then breaking apart, then climbing up again. Listening to that man's breathing, low and controlling, occasionally saying a word or two—"good girl," "obey," "say my name."

Every sentence was like a knife.

Cutting slowly.

I didn't know what expression was on my face. Probably twisted. Probably pathetic. The Sterling family heir, huddled in a shabby bar's private room, clutching his phone, listening to his ex and another man having sex.

Then I felt it.

A shameful sensation. Starting from my lower abdomen, spreading along my spine upward, climbing all the way to the back of my skull, exploding into a scalding heat.

I was aroused.

This fact made me want to die.

Alcohol. It must be the alcohol. I'd already had four or five drinks, my mind wasn't clear, so my body reacting this way was—no. It wasn't the alcohol.

It was because of those sounds.

Because of Elise's voice.

Because of everything I was hearing right now—her gasps, her moans, the tone she used when calling another man's name—they were stimulating me. In a way I least wanted to admit. In a way that made me feel utterly disgusting.

I threw the phone.

It hit the wall, bounced once, and fell to the floor. The screen stayed lit, the sounds continuing. Coming from the floor now, more distant, but also more real—like a reality from another world, belonging to someone else, having nothing to do with me.

I covered my face with one hand.

My fingers were wet.

I didn't know when the tears had started.

Was I crying?

The Sterling family heir. Twenty-five years old. In a shabby bar's private room. Listening to a recording of his ex-girlfriend having sex with someone else, crying while masturbating.

I didn't want to admit what happened next.

But the body is honest. More honest than reason. More honest than dignity. More honest than all the goddamn Sterling family pride.

Alcohol and sound mixed together, becoming a kind of poison. It flowed through my veins, burning away all self-control, burning away all sense of shame, leaving only the most primitive, most filthy impulse.

The light in the private room was very dim. So dim I couldn't make out things in the corners. But I saw a figure.

Sitting on the sofa in the corner.

Motionless.

Never having left from beginning to end.

"...Anna?"

My voice was hoarse beyond recognition.