Chapter 240 Taking the Initiative to Come to the Door
Chapter 240 Taking the Initiative to Come to the Door
Sean was braced above her, tiny beads of sweat on his forehead, his breath heavy and hot against her collarbone, sending a tingling sensation through her.
"Wait a little longer. I haven't even filled you up yet," he murmured, pressing his lips to her earlobe, his voice low and rough with unsatisfied hunger. "How many times has it been and you're already tapping out?"
"How many times?" Susan forced her tired eyes open and glared at him, her voice barely above a whisper. "Count it yourself. From eleven o'clock to almost three in the morning, you..."
She never finished the sentence. He covered her mouth with his, his tongue tangling with hers in a deep, demanding kiss.
He pulled back and brushed away the tears at the corners of her eyes with his thumb, letting out a low laugh. "You owe me for all those years. You're going to have to pay it back slowly."
Susan had no energy left to argue. Her mind felt like it was soaking in warm water, growing hazier by the second.
Her last memory was his warm palm pressed against her side, his lips on her forehead, his voice distant, as if coming from another world: "Sleep."
Then she knew nothing at all.
The next morning.
When Susan woke up, her whole body felt like it had been run over by a truck. Every single muscle was screaming.
She rolled over and reached out to find nothing but cool, empty sheets beside her.
Cold. He'd been gone for a while.
Susan pushed herself up and looked around the empty bedroom. On the nightstand sat a glass of water, still steaming, with a note tucked underneath.
She reached for it. The handwriting was bold and firm: Gone to work. Breakfast is in the microwave, two minutes should do it. Text me when you're up.
At the bottom was a little heart, drawn so badly it was almost funny — lopsided and clumsy, like someone who'd never drawn one before.
Looking at that sad little heart, Susan felt some of her anger melt away. But then she thought about how he'd kept her up all night like a man starved, flipping her every which way, ignoring every plea she made, and the anger came rushing right back.
She threw off the covers and got out of bed. Her legs buckled immediately and she nearly hit the floor, grabbing the nightstand just in time to steady herself.
"Sean, don't you dare come back," she muttered through gritted teeth, using the wall for support as she made her way to the bathroom.
Standing under the hot shower, she looked down and saw marks scattered across her collarbone, her sides, her inner thighs — red and pink in some places, fading to bruised purple in others.
She closed her eyes and took a long, slow breath.
When he got home tonight, she was going to tear him apart. She'd stake her name on it.
---
Sean left the apartment before the sky had fully brightened.
He drove straight to the office and had his assistant Quinn pull up everything on the kidnapper the police had caught.
The man's name was Mark Nelson. Thirty-five years old, unemployed, with a prior record.
The police had been questioning him all night. He admitted he'd been hired by someone, but refused to say who, no matter what.
"Keep digging," Sean said, sitting behind his desk, fingers tapping the surface. "Check everything. There's no such thing as a perfect secret."
"Yes, sir." Quinn nodded and left the office.
Sean leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples.
His phone rang. He glanced at the screen — it was the family home.
He picked up. His father's voice came through: "Come home. Now."
Sean frowned. "I've got things to deal with at the office. Can it wait until this afternoon?"
"What could possibly be more important than the mess you've made?" Julian's voice rose sharply.
The line went dead.
Sean stared at the ended call screen, his brow creasing.
His father had a bad temper, sure, but ever since Sean had grown up and taken over the company, Julian rarely spoke to him like that.
Sean grabbed his jacket and headed out.
When his car pulled into the driveway of the Miller family estate, he noticed an unfamiliar white sedan parked in the garage — out-of-town plates.
He walked inside.
Three people were sitting in the living room.
His father Julian was in the main chair, his expression dark and stiff.
Across from him sat two people — Victoria and Brian.
Victoria was wearing a loose beige dress with a cardigan over it and flat shoes. She looked fuller than the last time he'd seen her, with light makeup that couldn't quite hide the exhaustion on her face.
But what made Sean stop cold was the slight curve of her belly.
She was sitting with one hand resting on her stomach, the bump clearly visible.
His pupils shrank.
Before he could say anything, Brian stood up first.
Brian was wearing gold-rimmed glasses today, dressed in a sharp suit, looking polished and refined — but his eyes carried a sharp, calculating edge.
"Mr. Miller, long time no see." He extended his hand with a perfectly measured smile. "Do you remember me?"
Sean didn't take it. His gaze moved from Victoria's stomach to Brian's face, his voice ice-cold. "What are you two doing here?"
"Shay, watch how you talk," Julian snapped, slapping the armrest. "Victoria is pregnant. Show some respect."
"Respect?" Sean let out a cold laugh and looked back at Victoria. "Victoria, you actually had the nerve to show up here yourself?"
He'd been looking for her — trying to deal with the situation before it got out of hand. And here she was, walking right through his door.
Victoria's shoulders drew in. Her eyes went red as she looked toward Julian, her voice small and fragile, like a frightened animal. "Uncle Julian... I..."
"Don't be afraid." Julian stood up and stepped in front of her, facing Sean. "Sit down. Let me finish."
Sean didn't move. His eyes swept over Victoria's belly, then back to Julian. "Dad. Why did you call me back here?"
He said nothing more. He just stood there, expression unreadable.
He wanted to see what they were planning to pull.
Julian took a deep breath, pointed at Victoria's stomach, and said slowly, word by word: "Victoria says she's carrying your child."
The room went quiet for two seconds.
Sean didn't even blink.
He just looked at Victoria, and the corner of his mouth curved slightly — a smile so cold it had no warmth in it at all. "My child?"
"Shay!" Julian's voice hardened. "Why didn't you tell me something this important?"
Victoria was their adopted daughter. If this got out — if people found out his son had gotten involved with her — the gossip alone would be brutal. And on top of that, it had already started affecting the company. The shareholders weren't going to be easy to deal with either.
"Nothing happened between us," Sean cut him off, his voice steady. "Someone drugged me. I was unconscious. How exactly was I supposed to get her pregnant while I was out cold?"