Dawn was breaking, and after a night of passion, Lauren Walker's untouched body felt utterly exhausted.
She sat up slowly, the dim light of early morning allowing her to gaze at the man lying beside her.
His face, distinguished and noble, with an air of royalty, invaded her vision.
His dark, striking eyebrows, deep-set eyes, a nose that was prominent and sculpted, paired with thin lips that turned up slightly at the corners—crafted by God himself, unparalleled.
Lauren was entranced, her delicate fingers unconsciously tracing the slight frown between the man's brows.
"Ah!"
A strong hand suddenly grasped her slender one, and Lauren cried out in alarm.
"You've got some nerve trying to seduce me with such cowardice?" The man's deep and menacing voice came from above.
Lauren's body tensed up, a fleeting look of panic crossing her fair and delicate face.
Indeed, she had drugged him, sparing no effort to drag him from the bar to this place.
"Do you like it? Don't all men love a bad girl?" A slight smirk played at the corners of Lauren's mouth.
Quentin Robinson narrowed his dark eyes and scrutinized the woman before him, a cool smirk gracing his lips, "Have we met?"
His tone carried a hint of confusion. Lauren's expression faltered, and she scoffed inwardly. Met? Their names were on each other's marriage certificates.
He clearly didn't care about her, not coming home for two years, not even knowing what his own wife looked like.
Everyone in Deerland knew that Quentin Robinson, CEO of Robinson Corporation, had taken an extremely broad-minded trophy wife.
Quentin, a notorious playboy surrounded by admirers, and at home, he had a wife who could tolerate his affairs outside.
Men envied him; women were jealous.
Lauren bit her lower lip, got up, and reached for her scattered clothes on the floor, ready to leave.
"Stop right there!" Quentin's commanding voice came from behind her.
Lauren's spine stiffened; if she stayed any longer, she worried she'd blow her cover.
After all, she had loved this man for five years! Keeping up the facade for so long was already a stretch.
"Can't Mr. Robinson handle a one-night stand?" she said stiffly, forcing a light laugh.
A trace of annoyance crossed Quentin's face. He had encountered many women eager to throw themselves at him, but this was the first to speak to him with such a tone—it was fascinating.
"What's your name?"
His deep voice resonated from behind, and even without turning around, Lauren could feel his intense gaze as if he could see right through her.
"Are you suggesting you want a round two, Mr. Robinson?"
Quentin was speechless.
Lauren was unsure how she found her way home from the hotel. Her mind was flooded with Quentin’s visage, his deep and magnetizing voice echoing in her ears.
The man was indeed like poison, a source of humiliation and indifference, yet the moment she saw him, she found herself irresistibly drawn like a moth to a flame.
For two years, she had held vigil in the villa, not once catching a glimpse of him. Instead, she was greeted daily with headlines about his scandalous nights out with various young heiresses and models.
“Madam, the Dowager asks that you join her for dinner,” came an aged voice.
Lauren snapped out of her reverie and looked up at the Head Butler standing before her. “George, I understand,” she said.
It was the Dowager who had orchestrated Lauren’s marriage to her idolized heartthrob Quentin, a marriage that turned into the tomb of her love…
She made her way to The Robinson Estate, nestled amidst the suburban hills, drawn by its captivating vistas and tranquil ambiance.
Stepping out of the car, Lauren immediately saw the Dowager at the entrance, leaning on her cane. Hurrying over, she felt a searing pain, grinding her teeth yet concealing it with effort.
Quentin had been fierce the night before, his advances growing increasingly violent, leaving her on the brink of unconsciousness from the excruciating pain. Yet, despite her agony, his appetite seemed insatiable.
A flush of red crossed Lauren's face as she reached the Dowager and tenderly supported her, urging, "Grandma, the wind is chilly outside, please let's go in."
"Lauren, I have been longing to see you," said the Dowager, patting Lauren's delicate hand with her own gnarled one, smiling kindly.
A twinge of emotion hit Lauren as she thought of her own family, filling her with bittersweet feelings.
The Walker family was eager to marry her off to Quentin, indifferent to her well-being in their quest to climb the social ladder. In contrast, the Dowager had shown her care that could rival that of her family.
A month earlier, the Dowager had presented her with a medical report, revealing her deteriorating health, and confided her wish to see a great-grandson before her time was up.
To avoid leaving the Dowager with regrets, Lauren spent a month investigating, and tracking Quentin and took advantage of a night when he was intoxicated at a bar, seizing the chance to get him into a hotel room.
She even went as far as learning seduction techniques from women skilled in the art to catch his interest, and fortunately, she succeeded.
Whether she could become pregnant or not, was now up to fate.
"Dowager, the food is ready," interrupted a servant nearby.
The Dowager watched Lauren with a smile, "Lauren, go get something to eat! You look even thinner now."
"Dowager, being slim is trendy among young people these days; they call it the 'chic boniness'," Lauren replied with a laugh.
"This Dowager is old and doesn't quite understand these trends; I just hope you're healthy," the Dowager said fondly, looking at Lauren with affection.
Five years ago, she suffered a heart attack at the airport, and her assistant hadn't made it in time to pick her up. If it hadn't been for Lauren's timely help, she might not have survived to see another day.
At that time, amidst the crowd, no one dared to step forward, only Lauren rushed over, heedless of everything else, to rescue her, insisting on taking her to the hospital before she felt at ease.
What struck the Dowager most was afterward, despite her readiness to offer a hefty reward, the young girl had turned her down with unwavering principles.
After years in the cutthroat world of the shopping mall business, she had seen too many people swayed by greed, becoming indifferent to the harsh realities of life, but this warm-hearted, kind girl had gained her respect.
As they got to know each other better, the Dowager learned of Lauren's interest in her grandson, and so she arranged for Quentin to marry her.
Unfortunately, love is about mutual affection, and she had hoped her foolish grandson would recognize the admirable qualities of the person right beside him. It was a pity that after all these years, their relationship remained stagnant, leaving poor Lauren in a state of uncertainty.
Reflecting on this, a look of regret appeared on the Dowager's face. She looked up at Lauren sitting beside her and said, "Lauren, I've arranged to have dinner with Quentin, you should take this chance to talk things over with him."