Chapter 65
Nora shook her head and said nothing.
Did she regret it?
Of course she did.
But regret was useless.
What Nora regretted wasn't that she hadn't compromised with Walter back then, but that she hadn't died in the year she was born.
"You rest first, I'll make dinner." Nora's voice was very low, full of politeness and distance.
Walter frowned and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window to light a cigarette.
The way Nora was now was clearly not what he wanted.
But it was only because she was Nora.
"Royce, tell Bronte's agent that she's been getting too bold lately. Tell her to settle down for a while - no commercial activities or acting jobs for the next six months." Walter said coldly.
On the other end of the phone, Royce understood. This meant blacklisting Bronte for at least half a year.
Just because Bronte had provoked Nora today.
"Yes, Mr. Wood."
After hanging up, Walter turned to look at Nora busy in the kitchen.
Her hair was loosely tied up, her figure thin.
From Walter's angle, Nora was truly beautiful, so beautiful he couldn't look away.
Six years ago, when Walter first met Nora, he thought someone like her was a canary suited to be kept in a golden cage, displayed for others to admire.
But now, Walter had an urge to hide Nora away, to make her belong only to him.
Hide her at home, where no one else could covet her.
"The contract - are you sure you don't want to look at it?" Crushing out his cigarette, Walter walked into the kitchen and hugged Nora from behind.
Nora's body stiffened, and the kitchen knife in her hand almost fell on her foot, but Walter caught it quickly.
"I don't need to." Nora shook her head.
"I want you with me, not as a housekeeper." Walter's voice was low and husky, reminding Nora again and again.
He had a strong sexual desire for Nora, but at least in this regard, he would respect her choice.
Nora numbly stared at the noodles in the pot, slowly lowering her hands.
"Walter, you shouldn't be short of women." Not shouldn't be - Walter had never been short of women.
"I'm not short of housekeepers either." Walter let go of Nora, leaning against the counter with a mocking tone.
Nora understood that Walter was the type of man who wanted more what he couldn't have, but once he truly got it, maybe he wouldn't be so obsessed anymore.
"I saw Bronte today. She's beautiful, dazzling, the kind of woman who shines wherever she stands." Nora turned off the stove and turned to look at Walter. "There's no need to waste energy on a woman like me. You won't like it."
Compared to a radiant woman like Bronte, she seemed too dim and dull.
Nora untied her apron, tossed it aside, and unbuttoned her shirt one button at a time.
The scars on her body were shocking, bruised and purple in a frightening way.
Because her skin was fair, even after all this time since getting out of prison, the scars still hadn't completely faded.
Her wrists bore scars from countless suicide attempts, very ugly.
Far from perfect.
A man like Walter had extreme standards for women, requiring at least perfection without flaws.
And she was already a pieced-together ceramic, broken and cheap.
Walter stood frozen in place, his fingers clenching one by one.
"Do you think someone like me is worth anything?" Nora laughed mockingly. She probably wouldn't be worth much even if she tried to sell herself.
"You should rest." After a long while, Walter spoke in a low voice. "When you've figured it out, find Royce to sign the contract. Use the money in the card as you like. If you need more, tell Royce."
Walter turned and left, almost fleeing.
Seeing Nora's body covered in bruises, his emotions were complicated.
Nora laughed mockingly, picked up the shirt from the floor, and crouched there for a long time.
Any man would not want her as she was now.
If they knew about the disgusting experiences she'd been through, they probably wouldn't even want to look at her.
What was the point.
---
Nightfall Clubhouse.
Walter left the apartment and went to drink alone at the bar.
"Mr. Wood." Bronte heard that Walter was drinking alone, and as soon as she entered the room, she threw herself into his arms. "I know I was wrong."
She had already heard from her agent that Walter was going to blacklist her.
She'd been with Walter for three years, rising from a nobody who just graduated from dance school to her current success - all thanks to Walter.
Although she'd made enough money over the years, what woman wouldn't love a man like Walter?
Compared to other women in the entertainment industry who found sugar daddies, Bronte was incredibly lucky.
Other big bosses were either fat and ugly or had all kinds of weird fetishes. Someone as handsome as Walter was rare.
Of course, Michael was an even better choice in all the female celebrities' hearts, but unfortunately Michael was a germaphobe who didn't allow any woman near him.
"Where were you wrong?" Walter didn't push Bronte away, asking in a low voice.
Bronte practically clung to Walter. "I shouldn't have provoked Nora."
"Stand up." Walter had Bronte stand.
Bronte didn't understand but obediently stood in front of Walter.
"Take off your shirt." Walter's voice was very low.
Bronte froze for a moment, looking around. Although there were only the two of them in the private room, still...
Biting her lip - after all, Walter was her sugar daddy.
Unbuttoning her shirt, Bronte took it off and tried to sit on Walter's lap.
"Get lost." Walter cursed under his breath, tilting his head back to down a whole glass of liquor.
Just as Nora had said, Bronte was beautiful, flawless, her skin without scars.
But inexplicably, Walter's mind was full of Nora.
"Walter." Bronte felt wronged, not knowing what she'd done wrong.
"Nora is my bottom line. If you provoke her, I don't mind letting you get to know me all over again." Walter stood up, straightened his suit, and left directly.
Bronte stared in shock at Walter.
She'd been with him for three years and never knew which woman would become his bottom line.
Who exactly was this Nora? She looked pretty ordinary.
---
Back home, Walter loosened his tie and glanced at the empty room.
Nora must be asleep.
Passing the dining table, Walter saw a bowl of vegetable noodles. The soup was still hot, the noodles not yet hard.
Clearly, Nora had just cooked it and left it on the table.
He instinctively glanced toward the guest room, then took off his jacket and tossed it aside. The noodles smelled surprisingly good.
He was actually a bit hungry.
After eating a few bites, Walter raised his hand to his forehead.
Irritably pulling off his tie and throwing it aside, Walter punched the dining table, sending the soup bowl crashing to the floor.
In his mind, all he could see were the purple bruises covering Nora's body.
Five years - he had kept Nora in prison for five years.
He had watched as James and the Adams family destroyed all her pride.
In the room.
Nora heard the noise and opened the door in panic. Seeing Walter sitting disheveled in the dining room, clearly having been drinking.
Keeping her head down, she went to pour him water, then crouched on the floor silently cleaning up.
"Get up." Walter's voice was somewhat hoarse.
Nora didn't move, still silently picking up the pieces.
"I said get up!" Walter pulled Nora up, his hands on the table trapping her in front of him.
Nora was frightened by Walter's anger, her trembling hands trying to push him away.
Walter's breath was hot as he just looked at Nora, his voice husky. "You can make demands."
He wanted Nora to depend on him. She could make any request.
Whatever she wanted, he could afford to give her.