Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Benjamin furrowed his brows, calling out hesitantly, "Isabella? Where are you? Who's with you?"

Isabella felt a mix of embarrassment and frustration as she tried to push Christopher away, but he wouldn't budge.

Just as she was about to explain, Christopher leaned in closer, his voice calm, "There's a problem on this page of the project proposal."

He then maliciously bit Isabella's earlobe.

Isabella bit her lip hard to keep from making any noise.

Afraid Benjamin would sense something was off, she quickly explained, "I just ran into Mr. Harrison from Nexus Technologies. He said there's a part of the project proposal that needs to be revised. I'll talk to you later."

With that, she hurriedly hung up the phone.

Benjamin stared at the phone, puzzled.

Weren't they just at the bar?

How did she suddenly end up reviewing the project proposal?

As soon as Isabella hung up, Christopher grabbed her phone and tossed it aside, pressing his body against hers.

His rough breathing was hot against her neck, making her entire body tingle.

Christopher's hands roamed over her chest, his lips constantly kissing her shoulders.

The difference in strength between men and women was too great. Despite Isabella's desperate struggle, she was powerless against Christopher.

Her resistance only ignited his deepest desires.

Christopher gripped Isabella's waist, positioning her to straddle him.

In the next moment, he clasped her neck and kissed her, his tongue skillfully parting her lips to intertwine with hers.

Isabella's hands pounded on his chest, but he easily pinned them, forcing her to wrap her arms around his waist.

After a fervent kiss, Christopher, breathing heavily, whispered in her ear, "Thinking of being someone else's secretary?"

Isabella grumbled, "He said it himself."

Christopher kissed her lips again, chuckling softly, "Good girl."

Isabella frowned, pushing him away, "I need to go home."

"You're hurt," Christopher reclined back, his long legs sprawled out, turning to Isabella, "I have medicine at my place."

"No need," Isabella replied, having just been shoved by the thug, her hand slightly scraped. "I'll just use a band-aid when I get home."

Christopher didn't respond to her. Instead, he asked Mike, "What's the progress on the Eldridgeville project?"

Isabella's heart sank, her fingers clutching her clothes, creating ripples.

She knew this was a threat.

Mike calmly reported the project's status from the front seat, and Isabella didn't mention going home again.

Christopher suddenly felt irritated. He slammed the car door when they arrived and stormed into the house.

Isabella looked at the luxurious villa through the car window and sighed inwardly.

Mike hadn't left yet. He glanced at Isabella in the rearview mirror and struck up a rare conversation.

"Miss Carter, you must be special to Mr. Harrison. I've never seen anyone reject him, let alone hit him. I doubt there's another person in the world who could do that."

In the past, Mike had wondered about the relationship between Christopher and Isabella, but now he had seen it with his own eyes.

Isabella listened quietly, not responding. She opened the car door and stepped out.

To Mike, Isabella might have seemed strong-willed, even brave enough to stand up to someone like Christopher. But only Isabella knew that compared to the cruel actions Christopher and his friends had subjected her to, this was nothing.

A mocking smile tugged at Isabella's lips. Even now, Christopher could easily crush her self-esteem with just a few words, making her "willingly" step into his villa.

With each step she took, painful memories flooded her mind.

As soon as she entered the villa, Christopher grabbed her arm from behind, pinning her against the door and kissing her fiercely.

Christopher was even more aggressive than he had been in the car. His lips ruthlessly pressed against hers, his tongue teasing her pink lips.

The tingling sensation spread through Isabella's body instantly.

Christopher knew her too well. Just a little teasing was enough to make her body react in ways that shamed her.

With a smirk, Christopher gripped her waist, lifting her to straddle him, and carried her to the bedroom.

Christopher threw Isabella onto the bed, and she felt herself sink into the softness, her heart sinking with it.

She turned her head to look out the window, the heavy curtains blocking out any light from outside.

Christopher had already stripped her of her clothes, his hands roaming freely over her body.

Isabella shut her eyes tightly, a tear slipping out.

Her hot tear fell on Christopher's hand, extinguishing his burning desire.

Christopher let out a cold laugh, getting up from her and sitting on the nearby sofa, lighting a cigarette.

"You like him that much?" he sneered.

Enough to step into his villa for Benjamin, even if it meant compromising herself.

Christopher's simmering rage flared up again, uncontrollable.

Isabella remained on the bed, "At least he respects me."

Respect?

Christopher despised the poor's pitiful sense of pride.

If you have everything, people will naturally respect you.

But if you have nothing, pride is just an empty word.

Saying it out loud only invites ridicule.

But the poor cling to it, like how Isabella had quietly left him over a careless joke he and his friends made.

Christopher was curious to see if Benjamin could resist temptation.

He stubbed out his cigarette, grabbed a first aid kit, and pulled Isabella into his arms, carefully applying medicine to her wounds.

The bedroom was dimly lit by a bedside lamp, the warm light casting a soft glow over the gray bedding, shutting out the cold night.

Leaning against him, Isabella felt the rise and fall of his chest and the faint scent of cedar.

She stole a glance at Christopher, the warm light falling on his eyelashes, casting delicate shadows.