Chapter 112: Calling Another Man's Name in Bed

That was his private resort.

The presidential suite on the top floor was kept vacant for him year-round.

They didn't speak the whole way. After throwing up, Isabella felt much better and fell into a deep sleep.

When the car stopped at the hotel entrance, he hoisted her over his shoulder and, ignoring all the shocked looks from the staff, walked straight into the private elevator.

The door to the top-floor suite opened.

He kicked the door shut and threw the woman from his shoulder heavily onto the king-size bed.

Isabella was thrown so hard that everything spun around her. Her stomach churned again, and she groaned in discomfort, her consciousness completely blurred.

Terry yanked off his tie, unbuttoned his shirt, and walked toward her step by step.

He looked down at her—at her cheeks flushed with an alluring redness from the alcohol, at her slightly pouted red lips glistening with moisture... That fragile and helpless appearance didn't stir even a trace of sympathy in him. Instead, it awakened the most primal desire for destruction and possession deep within him.

He wanted her, most intensely and directly, to carve a mark on her body that belonged only to him... He wanted her to know exactly whose woman Isabella was, from beginning to end!

With that thought, he leaned down, his burning lips pressing down hard again with punishing intent.

This time, Isabella didn't resist. She felt too awful—the whiskey was far stronger than she'd imagined.

Her consciousness was floating in mid-air now, unable to distinguish reality from dreams... The unfamiliar sensation on her lips reminded her of everything that had happened at the bar.

That refined man with gold-rimmed glasses... he looked so much like Robert.

"Robert... is that you?" She unconsciously mumbled a name from her throat.

That name struck Terry like lightning.

All his movements stopped abruptly as the words fell.

Terry lifted his head, looking at Isabella beneath him in disbelief.

She... who did she just call?

Robert?

At this moment, beneath him, she was calling another man's name?

"Isabella, do you have a death wish? You want to completely piss me off?"

Terry's rationality was no longer under his brain's control.

"Isabella!" He roared her name, his bloodshot eyes devoid of any humanity, filled only with greedy possession and madness.

His hand moved downward, roughly tearing open her short skirt... What appeared before his eyes was black underwear... Perfect, Isabella, you want a man that badly.

The night was long and wild.

The next day, the noon sun streamed in, making Isabella's back break out in sweat.

The hangover made her temples throb, as if someone had pounded them with fists.

The sunlight through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows was so bright she couldn't open her eyes.

She instinctively raised her hand to block it, but the movement pulled at every muscle in her body.

Then came an indescribable soreness and tearing sensation that made her gasp.

This feeling...

Isabella was no longer an inexperienced girl. With this sensation from her lower body, she immediately had a bad feeling.

All drowsiness gone, she snapped her eyes open to see a ceiling with classical decorative elements.

The air still held the heavy scent of tobacco and... the messy atmosphere after certain intimate activities.

Her brain froze for three seconds, then fragments from last night flooded into her mind like a tide.

Then came Terry's handsome face, twisted with rage...

"Ah!"

Isabella clutched her head and let out a scream of frustration at herself.

She remembered now, remembered everything.

Terry!

That bastard! He actually... actually took advantage of her while she was drunk... Does he just love taking advantage of people?

What kind of man does that!

She threw back the covers, wanting to get out of bed.

There was a full-length mirror by the bed, and Isabella glanced at it instinctively.

In the mirror, she was a complete mess, covered in marks of varying degrees. Her movements froze completely.

The silk quilt slipped down, fully revealing her skin covered in bruises and marks.

Those marks, scattered everywhere, extended from her collarbone down to where the quilt covered, shockingly and brazenly announcing the crazy things Terry had done to her last night.

She wasn't an inexperienced girl—of course, she knew what these marks meant. She bit her lower lip so hard she almost drew blood.

On the nightstand, a brand new Chanel outfit was neatly folded, with her phone placed beside it.

Anger surged through her without warning. She grabbed her phone from the nightstand.

When the screen lit up, there was a message from Terry, sent at 7 AM.

"Breakfast is on the table. Remember to eat. Bought you new clothes. Latest collection."

The tone was calm and natural, as if what happened between them last night was the most normal thing in the world.

But it was precisely this casualness that made Isabella feel sick... What did he take her for?

A plaything he could use to satisfy his desires and then dismiss with breakfast and an outfit?

Taking advantage of someone—what a bastard.

Though Terry's stamina and physique were good, and his face was extremely handsome, sleeping with him once wasn't a total loss, but... she felt dirty!

Isabella trembled with anger. She opened the chat and furiously typed out a message.

"Terry, you make me sick! You despicable, shameless bastard!!"

After typing that line, she hit send without a second thought.

After sending it, she threw her phone heavily onto the bed, venting her emotions.

She didn't want to stay another second in this place that made her feel humiliated, not even one second! So she endured her physical discomfort, grabbed the new outfit from the bedside, and rushed into the bathroom.

Hot water poured down from above. She scrubbed her body hard, over and over, as if trying to wash away all the marks from last night. But those bruises became even clearer and more glaring under the hot water.

After washing, she quickly dried herself and changed into the latest Chanel collection.

In the mirror, Isabella's face was flushed, her eyes slightly red, her lips still swollen and damaged.

She had to admit, Terry really put in effort last night—in just one night, he solved her hormone imbalance problem... What... what was she even thinking!!

Having such thoughts in her head, she quickly splashed her face with water to make herself look less disheveled, then grabbed her bag and left the resort's top-floor hotel without looking back.

As soon as she walked out of the hotel entrance, the glaring sunlight made her squint instinctively.