Chapter 7 Regret
Brian couldn't comprehend what had just happened. His mind spun, unable to piece together the last few minutes.
What was this woman trying to do?
Force him into becoming the kind of man he despised the most?
The same kind of man his father had been, the one who ruined his mother's life and left a scar he carried to this day.
The thought made bile rise in his throat. The horror in his eyes shifted swiftly into anger.
Emma saw it, saw the disgust, the self-loathing and her heart sank.
He regretted it. He regretted her.
Her stomach twisted as realization hit her like a punch: she had lost her virginity for nothing.
"Please… continue," she whispered, her voice trembling but resolute.
"I didn't cry because of you. It…it's because it hurts. I will be quiet now." She sniffed, wiping her tears.
Brian froze, his fists tightening. Regret burned through him like acid. He had let himself be tempted into something unforgivable, something that went against every line he swore never to cross.
He glared at her, his chest heaving, but Emma refused to shrink back.
She refused to let him find an excuse to ditch her now. She could see that desire had vanished from his eyes, replaced with coldness and a hint of weariness.
"We've already done it," she said, summoning courage she didn't feel. "Even if you stop now, you owe me that role."
Her tone shook, but she held his gaze. He looked as though he'd rather break something than hear her voice again.
"Get out!" he roared, his voice shattering the air.
Emma flinched, fear gripping her heart.
"How can you do this for a role?" Brian spat, his words trembling with fury. "Throwing away your first time just to...damn it!"
He shut his eyes tightly, breathing hard.
"Get lost. Now!" he growled again, louder this time.
Emma opened her mouth to speak, but his outburst drowned out her words.
He stormed to the nightstand, yanking open a drawer with shaking hands.
Her stomach dropped when she saw what he pulled out; a gun.
"Get out!" Brian shouted again, pointing it at her. His hands trembled, his eyes red and wild. But beneath the fury, she saw something else, fear. He looked as if he was about to collapse under the weight of his own actions.
Emma froze, her breath shallow. She wasn't brave enough to test him. Her mind flashed with faces, her mother's worried eyes, her younger siblings' hungry smiles, her little cat, Nemo, curling beside her at night.
If she died here, who would take care of them?
Her legs trembled as she climbed off the bed. Her hands fumbled to pick up her clothes. Every move made her wince. The pain between her thighs was a cruel reminder of what she had done.
She forced herself to stay silent, dressing quickly while Brian stood there, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His expression was unreadable, anger and shame tangled together.
When she was done, she hesitated at the door. She wanted to remind him of the deal, to beg him not to discard her like she meant nothing, but one look at the gun and the fire in his eyes told her it wasn't worth it.
She turned and left. She'd rather face Charlotte's wrath than die in that room.
Behind her, Brian collapsed to the bed, his breathing ragged.
"Fck! Fck! Fck!" he cursed repeatedly, tossing the gun aside. The prop clattered onto the floor, the sound echoing in the silence. He buried his face in his hands, his knuckles white as guilt tore through him.
Her expression, those tear-filled eyes flashed in his mind again and again, refusing to fade.
What had possessed him into falling for the temptation when he had remained chaste all his life.
It was his first time as well, hence the reason behind his fascination as he explored her body, but it wasn't supposed to end that way.
He was supposed to lose himself to the first woman to have ever arisen a carnal feeling within him, but in the end, it was no different from taking the innocence of a vulnerable woman.
Meanwhile…
Just as Emma reached the door, it swung open.
A man in a brown suit stood there, his black hair slicked neatly back, revealing sharp features and calm, striking brown eyes. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, handsome, composed, and commanding.
Behind him stood the goddess of movies herself, radiating confidence and grace, her very presence making the hallway feel smaller.