Chapter 11: The Man Who Wants to Fuck Her
In the haze of smoke, his phone rang. It was the company calling.
“What is it?”
Sienna’s anxious voice came through the phone: “Damian, where are you? The board is waiting for you.”
Damian’s attention was instantly pulled back to work. He extinguished his cigarette, listening to the call while striding quickly toward the elevator.
In the operating room, Evelyn opened her eyes the moment the gurney was pushed in.
“Is he gone?” she asked.
“Gone.” Ethan quickly stripped off his white coat, retrieved a backpack from a nearby cabinet, and handed it to her. “Quick, change your clothes. The car I called for you is on the street behind the hospital entrance. The driver will take you to the address I texted you. I will stall for time here. You only have fifteen minutes to leave the hospital.”
Evelyn swiftly changed into the jeans and gray hoodie from the backpack, tucking her hair under the hood.
“Ethan, thank you,” she said.
“Don't mention it,” Ethan pulled down her hood, concealing most of her face. “Hurry. Be careful on the road. I will find you once I have dealt with things here at the hospital.”
Evelyn nodded firmly, without another word, turning and quickly slipping out through the operating room’s secondary door.
The corridor was empty.
Following Ethan's instructions, Evelyn kept her head down and hurried through the long hallway, taking the fire escape downstairs.
The moment she pushed open the hospital’s back door, a cold gust of wind mixed with rain rushed at her face.
It was raining.
Not heavy, but dense, like an endless gray net enveloping the entire city.
She pulled her hood tight and rushed into the rain.
The cold rainwater splashing on her face instantly sobered her up.
She was free.
She had truly escaped.
A surge of post-trauma euphoria and an indescribable bitterness flooded her heart. Tears uncontrollably mixed with the rain.
She ran, glancing over her shoulder, terrified that Damian’s people would be chasing her.
Just as she turned a corner, she slipped because she was running too fast, losing her balance completely.
She gasped, about to fall to the ground, but instead crashed right into a firm yet warm chest.
There was a muffled thud.
The impact made her dizzy, and her nose stung sharply.
“Careful.”
A low, magnetic male voice sounded above her head.
A strong, powerful arm firmly stabilized her waist, preventing her fall.
Evelyn awkwardly lifted her head, seeing a face mostly concealed by large sunglasses through her wet bangs.
The man was tall and broad, wearing a well-tailored black suit. Even on this overcast, rainy day, he exuded a powerful, imposing presence.
She quickly regained her footing, stepped back, and created distance between them.
“I am sorry, I...”
The man did not speak, but took a pristine white handkerchief from his inner jacket pocket and offered it to her.
Evelyn paused, realizing her face was covered in a mixture of tears and rain.
Embarrassed, she took the handkerchief and hastily wiped her face.
“Crying for someone who is not worth it is a waste of yourself,” the man suddenly spoke.
Evelyn’s movements froze.
How did he know...
“Your husband, he does not cherish you.”
The rain fell diagonally, wetting his broad shoulders.
He seemed oblivious to the cold, watching her quietly, his gaze behind the sunglasses unreadable.
Suddenly, he opened a long black umbrella. The canopy was large, instantly creating a small, dry sanctuary for the two of them.
He placed the umbrella handle into Evelyn’s hand.
“If,” he leaned slightly, lowering his voice even further, his tone holding a strange seduction, “you were my wife, I would actively take your hand and guide it onto my large throbbing cock to let you feel its scorching heat.”
“Then, I would grab your breasts and suck them deeply, tease your clitoris, stimulate your moist pussy to release enough wetness, next, I would guide my cock to slap against your wet cunt, and then, aiming for your opening, powerfully thrust deep inside, generating enormous pleasure for you.”
Rainwater dripped down the edge of the umbrella ribs, splashing into tiny ripples on the ground.
Evelyn stood rigid in place, tightly clutching the large black umbrella. The handle seemed to retain the heat of the man’s palm, scorching her hand.
His words were like the strongest intoxicant, having seeped into her blood, making her entire body weak and dizzy.
Shame mingled with a strange, unprecedented feeling of being desired, burning her cheeks hot.
The man gave her a slight nod. The gesture was elegant and aloof, as if the person who had just whispered those lewd words into her ear was not him at all.
He did not say another word, turned, and strode away. His broad back quickly merged into the gray, rainy backdrop of New York.
He was gone.
Just like that, he left.
Leaving her, an umbrella, and a heart completely turned upside down.
Evelyn stood still, allowing the cold wind to seep into her soaked collar.
“If you were my wife, I would...”
Those words echoed in Evelyn's mind again. Each word felt like an electric current, causing her lower abdomen to contract sharply.
“Bastard.”
She cursed fiercely, yet she did not know if she was cursing the mysterious man who had appeared and disappeared so suddenly, or her own disobedient heart.
She could not stay here any longer.
Before Damian realized what happened, while she still possessed this fleeting moment of freedom.
She tightened her grip on the umbrella and hurried to the street corner, finding the yellow taxi Ethan had arranged for her.
“Hello, let us go,” her voice was extremely hoarse.
The driver, a middle-aged man, glanced at her in the rearview mirror, noticing her pale face and wet hair, with a hint of sympathy in his eyes.
The car smoothly merged into traffic.
Evelyn leaned against the window, tightly clutching the document envelope containing all her hope.
She could feel the presence of the small life in her abdomen, a weak yet determined bond, reminding her that she could not fall down.
After an unknown period, the car stopped in a quiet neighborhood.
Ethan’s studio was in a seemingly ordinary apartment building.
Evelyn paid the fare, opened the black umbrella, and quickly walked into the building.
Using the key Ethan had given her, she opened the door. A warm, dry wave of air rushed out, mixed with faint scents of disinfectant and coffee.
The studio was spacious, occupying almost the entire floor.
Outside the massive floor-to-ceiling windows was the city's night view.
The interior featured a minimalist industrial design: concrete gray walls, black metal bookshelves, and a huge central workstation.