Chapter 98 Chapter 98. Lysander’s True Face
Lysander’s gaze darkened, unreadable. He took another drag from his cigarette and asked casually, as if it had nothing to do with him, "What about you? Are you upset?"
"No."
Lysander laughed softly. He lifted his hand and pressed the burning cigarette against Zoria’s chest, slowly pushing it down. Her light-colored clothes scorched instantly, leaving behind an ugly black mark. A harsh stench filled the air—the smell of burning fabric mixed with seared flesh.
Zoria trembled with pain, but she did not dare move.
"Does it really not hurt here?" Lysander asked, pressing harder.
The orange flame went out at once. Ash fell onto her chest. Zoria lowered her head and looked at the burned hole in her clothes.
"It hurts on the outside. Not on the inside." Inside, she had already gone numb from pain long ago. If she were to keep hurting over someone like him, it would be utterly pointless.
The gentle smile never left Lysander’s face. He stubbed out the cigarette and tossed the filter into the trash.
"I like you like this." As he spoke, he lifted Zoria’s chin. His other hand stroked the hair at the back of her neck, as if petting a cat or a dog.
Forced to look up, Zoria’s misty eyes appeared pitiful. In that moment, she looked exactly like a domesticated pet—and the way Lysander treated her was no different from how one treated a pet.
He pulled her off the bed and took her into the bathroom, carefully undressing her. Her body was thin, her complexion pale like someone gravely ill, yet her skin was smooth. After soaking in warm water for a while, it flushed faintly pink.
Lysander brushed aside the bangs on her forehead. Her features were exquisitely refined—she truly was a beauty. No wonder Zephyr hated her and yet could never bring himself to let her go.
After the bath, he did not allow her to put her clothes back on. He carried Zoria out of the bathroom naked. Water dripped from her body, trailing across the floor. He pushed her in front of a large built-in wardrobe.
In a gentle voice, he said, "I knew Zephyr would use you to trade for Faye, so I prepared this room a long time ago. This place was made by me, just for you. Even the clothes inside were custom-made for you. Go on, open it and take a look."
His smile was soft, but his eyes were terrifying. A dark, sinister aura seeped from his gaze, twisting his handsome face into something almost monstrous in an instant.
Zoria shivered despite herself. She clenched her teeth, sensing that nothing good could come from this place. She opened the wardrobe door. Inside were rows of expensive dresses.
"Tonight, we’ll try them one by one."
"You said you wouldn’t force me like Zephyr did."
At that, Lysander laughed, baring the sharp fangs of a wolf. "Since I’ve brought you here, I can’t exactly do nothing with you, can I? If you don’t want to, I’ll just have to use another method to make you willingly put on each dress."
At last, Zoria saw Lysander for what he truly was. He was indeed a master of hypocrisy.
Lysander grabbed Zoria by the shoulders and casually pointed to one of the dresses. "Put this one on first."
Stiffly, Zoria put on the dress he indicated. Lysander watched her with interest. He stepped forward, wrapped an arm around her slim, soft waist, and rested his chin on her shoulder.
His breath brushed against her skin as he chuckled softly. "Beautiful. If Zephyr saw you like this, he’d probably be quite pleased." Zoria, tonight we’ll just play for one night. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to Zephyr’s villa so you can pack up your things. I want to see the look on Zephyr’s face."
Zoria replied coolly, "Do whatever you want."
She forced herself to appear indifferent as she looked at her reflection in the mirror, her brows knitting slightly.
Zoria had an exquisitely beautiful face. The black lace nightgown clung tightly to her, making her dangerously alluring, as if deliberately provoking the instincts of a wolf. And Lysander’s gaze stayed fixed on her, leaving her with nowhere to escape.
The more ashamed Zoria felt, the more she wanted to hide. And the more she tried to retreat, the harder Lysander shoved her forward, forcing her to stumble toward the mirror. Her eyes reddened uncontrollably.
Lysander grabbed her chin and made her look straight at her reflection.
"Look at you. You’re really beautiful." His golden eyes darkened, his lips crimson as if stained with blood.
"More beautiful than any woman I’ve ever seen." A cold gleam flashed in his gaze, sharp and predatory.
In the mirror, Zoria saw a twisted version of herself. Her body went icy cold. Compared to this slow, drawn-out torment, she would rather it all end quickly. Even being raped by Lysander would be better than being humiliated like this.
Her body trembled violently. It was clearly summer, yet she felt colder than in the dead of winter. And the night—at least for her—had only just begun.
……
Rain pattered down all night long. When Zephyr saw Faye, his heart skipped several beats. He hurried over, draped his coat around her shoulders, and scooped her up.
Faye shuddered and screamed shrilly, "Don’t!"
Zephyr stroked her head and softened his voice. "Faye, I’m here."
Gradually, Faye’s body relaxed in his arms.
She sobbed, "Zephyr… I’m so scared."
A hollow, uneasy feeling spread through Zephyr’s chest. Before his eyes, Faye was covered in blood, so badly hurt she was barely recognizable. Beyond worry, he felt real fear clawing at him.
He was afraid that Zoria might have been reduced to the same state.
Zephyr rushed Faye to the hospital. When the doctors saw him carrying in a blood-soaked female, they panicked. After the examination, they determined that while Faye had many external injuries, the most serious were her broken arms—and her legs, which had fractured bones as well.
At the very least, Faye would need to be hospitalized for a month. Her mental state was extremely unstable, and she kept calling Zephyr’s name. He stayed by her side, planning to leave once she fell asleep and wait at home for news of Zoria. But Faye couldn’t sleep at all. Dark circles ringed her eyes, her sclera bloodshot, yet she stubbornly kept her gaze fixed on him. Her eyes were full of terror, as if the moment she blinked, Zephyr would disappear.