Chapter 5: Noisy Sex from the Husband and Mistress
She walked to Evelyn's desk, her fingers seemingly casually brushing over the design drafts.
"Oh right," she said as if suddenly remembering something. "I did not bring a change of clothes. Could I borrow a nightgown? I am all sweaty and sticky. It is uncomfortable."
"Get out." Evelyn said, her voice low but carrying a warning tone.
Sienna paused for a moment, then laughed exaggeratedly. "What did you say? I did not hear clearly. It is just a nightgown. Do you have to be so stingy? Or are your old fashioned nightgowns too embarrassing to show?"
As she spoke, she actually turned and walked toward Evelyn's closet.
"I said," Evelyn stood up and blocked her path, her body trembling slightly with extreme anger, "get out of my room!"
"Your room?" Sienna snorted, her eyes contemptuously sizing Evelyn up and down. "Evelyn, do not be ridiculous. Soon, everything here will be mine. Your husband, your house, your closet... and of course, your nightgowns too."
She reached out to push Evelyn aside.
Evelyn grabbed her wrist.
"Do not touch me!" Sienna screamed.
"Get out!" Evelyn used all her strength to push her out of the room.
The two women instantly began to struggle.
"Enough! Evelyn!"
Damian appeared at the doorway, with only a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair still dripping water, clearly just out of the shower.
His grip on Evelyn's wrist was so tight it seemed he would crush her bones.
"What are you going crazy about now?" he frowned.
As soon as Sienna saw him, she immediately let go, her eyes reddening as she fell into his arms with a wounded expression.
"Damian... I... I just wanted to borrow a nightgown from Evelyn, and she..." she sobbed.
Damian embraced the trembling woman in his arms. When he looked up at Evelyn again, his eyes were as cold as ice.
He did not ask what had happened, nor did he give Evelyn any chance to explain.
He simply assumed that Evelyn was being unreasonable.
"Evelyn, have you had enough? Sienna just wanted to borrow some clothes. Did you need to act like this?"
Evelyn looked at him in disbelief.
She looked at the woman pretending to be hurt in his arms, at his undisguised accusation toward herself.
"Why cannot you be more gracious?" Damian continued, each word like a slap across Evelyn's face.
"Evelyn, Sienna is a guest. Is this how you treat guests?"
Damian's face darkened.
"Guest?" Evelyn shook off his hand, pointing at Sienna. "What kind of guest is she? A guest who climbs into the master's bed?"
"You!" Damian's anger was ignited. "Do you have to speak so offensively? Why cannot you be more generous? Sienna has already had it hard enough!"
Evelyn was stunned.
She looked at the man righteously defending his mistress, feeling as if she were watching a clown in an absurd play.
Her heart, at this moment, shattered.
Damian did not even look at her again.
He carefully cradled the sobbing Sienna in his arms, as if she were some fragile treasure.
His voice, was gentle in a way he had never been with Evelyn. "It is all right now. Everything is fine."
Sienna lifted her head from his embrace, looking over his shoulder to give Evelyn a smug and challenging glance.
Then, like a startled fawn, she was half embraced and half carried by Damian out of the room.
The door closed with a click, shutting out everything outside.
...
The next morning, sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting dappled shadows on the floor.
Evelyn woke up very early, or rather, she had barely slept at all.
She walked to the desk, looking at the broken pencil and the design paper with Sienna's footprint on it.
She could not let this go.
There were no proper tools in the room. She searched through several drawers and finally found a few fabric samples and a pencil stub that was barely long enough to hold.
Evelyn picked up those fabric pieces, her fingertips feeling the texture of different materials.
The smoothness of silk, the rusticity of linen, the luxury of velvet.
She laid the fabrics on the table, picked up the small pencil stub, and began to sketch anew on a fresh sheet of paper.
Without a ruler, she measured with her fingers.
Without colors, she noted them in words on the side.
She immersed herself in her creation, as if only this way could she block out the filth and nauseating reality of this house.
Soon, the door was pushed open.
Damian stood there wearing a perfectly tailored suit, his hair immaculately combed without a strand out of place.
He stood in the doorway, looking at her as if examining an object.
His gaze fell on the scattered fabric pieces and drawing papers on the table. His brow furrowed briefly, but quickly relaxed.
He thought she had finally come to terms with reality.
These things were just amusements to pass time for a bored woman.
As long as she behaved and no longer challenged his authority, he could tolerate these hobbies.
His tone carried a hint of condescending charity. "There is an important company dinner tonight. Get ready and dress appropriately."
Evelyn did not look up, nor did she pause her work.
"I am not going."
Damian's face darkened.
What he hated most was her defiance.
"Evelyn, I am not asking for your opinion. As the wife of the Omni Group's president, you have a duty to appear by my side at such occasions. Do you want people outside to laugh at me, saying I cannot even control my own wife?"
He leaned down, his hands pressed against the edge of the desk, trapping her between the chair and himself.
"We need to show the world that we are fine, very much in love. Do you understand? Stop causing me trouble."
Evelyn looked up, meeting his eyes directly.
Those eyes that were once full of love now held only calculation.
"Fine, I will go with you."
He stepped forward, wanting to stroke her hair as he used to, but Evelyn subtly avoided his touch.
His hand froze in mid air, his expression turning ugly, but eventually he withdrew.
"That is more like it." He turned and walked toward the door. "The driver will be waiting downstairs at six."