Chapter 45: Fingers in Her Pussy
The calendar on the living room wall, illuminated by the crystal chandelier, clearly showed the dates marked off with a red marker. Evelyn stood there, running her hand over the paper. She counted the remaining blank squares. Just two months left.
“What are you looking at?” Damian’s heavy voice came from behind.
He smelled of alcohol and frustration from Sienna’s absence. He pressed up against her back, his warm hand sliding to her waist.
“Damian, I don’t feel well. I need to rest early.” Evelyn’s voice was flat.
Damian tightened his arm, trying to pull her into a hug. “Don’t be difficult, darling.”
“I’m going to shower.” She broke free.
Damian stood stunned, watching her enter the bathroom. He heard the click of the lock.
“Damn it!” Damian cursed under his breath, irritably tearing off his tie and sinking into the soft sofa.
His phone on the coffee table vibrated faintly. He grabbed it, expecting a flirty text from Sienna. Instead, the screen showed a message from an anonymous number.
He tapped it open. A photo immediately filled the screen.
The background was a dimly lit Michelin restaurant, with elegant dinnerware and an expensive-looking bottle of red wine. The woman was Evelyn. She was facing sideways, wearing a genuine smile he hadn't seen in years. Opposite her sat a man. The man was only a broad back, dressed in a well-cut dark suit, his posture relaxed. One hand rested casually on the table.
Bang! The phone hit the carpet hard.
Betrayal. The word exploded in his mind. His wife dared to go out on a date with another man! Was she refusing him because she had a lover? He wanted to rush into the bathroom and drag Evelyn out to question her.
But a sliver of reason stopped him. No. If he confronted her now, she would deny everything. He needed proof. He had to catch the adulterer.
Early the next morning, Evelyn hurried to the corporation before she could even eat breakfast. As a regular employee, she couldn't be late.
Damian watched her car leave, took out his phone, and dialed Dave, his secretary.
Dave answered instantly. “President.”
“Listen, from now on, put someone on Evelyn twenty-four hours a day. I want to know where she goes and who she meets.” Dave seemed startled by the anger in his tone. He paused for a second. “Also,” Damian continued, his voice tight, “find all her recent call records, text messages, and chat logs from all her social media. Report any abnormality to me immediately.”
“Yes, President.”
Damian hung up, looking out at the empty driveway. Evelyn, you better pray I don’t find anything.
Meanwhile, Evelyn drove into the morning rush hour traffic. The light turned red. She stopped the car. Her phone chimed with a notification.
It was a reply to the post she made days ago, asking about the preferences of Nova Group’s mysterious Asian CEO, Ryan K. Lawrence, to better inform her designs.
She tapped it open. The sender’s ID made her breath catch: “R.K.L.”
Then, a message popped up. [To understand me, it’s better to ask me directly.]
Evelyn was stunned. Him? Ryan K. Lawrence himself? How was that possible? Her mind went blank. How did he see her post?
Before she could recover from the shock, a second message appeared. [To deliver a design that truly catches my eye, you need a deep understanding of me, don’t you?] The man's words held a hint of knowing amusement.
Evelyn hadn't processed the information yet when he sent a photo. The image's intimacy made her head spin.
It was a photo of a man’s lower torso. Below a lean waist, a clearly defined V-line disappeared into the edge of deep gray underwear. The fabric outlined a startling shape, radiating raw masculine power.
A new message followed immediately. [I hope one day we can know each other naked and honestly.]
The flippancy and teasing, the shame, shock, and a strange sense of panic overwhelmed her. She slammed the phone screen off, as if dropping a hot potato. Her chest heaved.
That tone... That provocation... Damn it, it was familiar. And she hadn't forgotten the movement of his fingers inside her pussy, making her climax again and again.
A sudden hot rush surged from deep inside her body without warning. It quickly soaked her tender core. The moist heat was so clear. She shamefully squeezed her legs together, her knuckles white on the steering wheel.
Oh God... She was reacting like this just from a memory.
The same flippancy. The same confidence of total control.
A ludicrous idea surfaced, one that almost made her laugh.
The man who gave her an umbrella on a rainy day. The man who covered her with his jacket when she fainted after giving blood. The man who aroused her desire in the auction box.
Could he be... the CEO of Nova Group, Ryan K. Lawrence?
The thought sent a shiver through her.
Beep! Beep beep!
A sharp, impatient horn from behind pulled her back to reality. Evelyn suddenly realized the traffic light had been green for a while. She was stopped like an idiot, blocking the cars behind her.
She frantically stepped on the gas. The car lurched forward. “I must be crazy,” she muttered, unsure if she was cursing the driver behind her or herself.
No. It couldn't be such a coincidence. The world wasn't that dramatic. A billionaire CEO would never spend so much effort on a neglected housewife. It was absurd.
She shook her head hard, trying to dislodge the crazy idea, and focused on driving to Omni Group.