Adrian was a taut bowstring, a thrum of anticipation vibrating within him. He watched as Natalie's fingers, delicate as tendrils, suddenly clung to his neck at the height of their shared passion.
"Adrian..." she breathed.
The following morning, Natalie awoke to an all-encompassing soreness. She stared in stunned disbelief at her naked form lying next to Adrian, the events of the previous night starkly etched in her memory.
Yet her mind was a void... why?
In that moment, Adrian, who had been slumbering beside her, opened his eyes – eyes as fathomless as the abyss. His gaze swept the room before finally settling on Natalie. He spat out her name with a note of contempt, "Natalie!"
It was then that Natalie remembered, this was the aftermath of the gala. She was Natalie; she had no business being here. Her lips quivered, and words failed her.
Finally, she managed to stammer out, "Mr. Howard..."
Adrian rose, gathering his scattered clothes from the floor and dressing with a furrowed brow.
His eyes fell upon the extinguished scented candle on the nightstand. He squinted, then abruptly seized Natalie's slender neck. "Did you do this?"
"No...No..." Natalie protested, shaking her head in denial.
She hadn't done it!
Adrian's face remained impassive. As the quilt slipped from her body, he caught sight of the scars marring her back, and his anger ignited.
Natalie bore the same scars in the same place. No wonder he had lost control the previous night. It wasn't just the scented candle; he had mistaken her for Alice!
Adrian released his grip abruptly. "This affair – you must tell no one. If Alice finds out, I won't let you off! I have ways to make you disappear from Vachilit!"
He hadn't anticipated that Alice was right; Natalie was indeed such a vain woman, resorting to such despicable means to get close to him! Natalie's usual innocence and pathos were nothing but a facade. She was nothing more than an attention-seeker, including her calculated attachment to Daniel!
Adrian's sense of profound betrayal surged, his fury reaching a breaking point.
Natalie was flung back onto the bed, coughing violently and feeling an intensified soreness. She clutched the thin quilt tightly.
Once dressed, Adrian took a towel to wipe the hand that had held her neck, his face twisted in disgust. He tossed the towel onto the floor, stepping over it callously in his polished leather shoes before striding away.
A chill ran down Natalie's spine.
Adrian's icy indifference when he had gripped her was heart-wrenching. It was as if, in that moment, she was precisely what he had said, someone he could "vanish from Vachilit."
Hastily dressing, she hailed a cab and rushed home. She darted into the bathroom, desperate to wash away the traces on her skin, but no matter how vigorously she scrubbed, she couldn't erase the marks that marred her body.
Natalie hugged herself as she crouched under the showerhead, her tears falling silently.
She thought, "The first time, it was to save Mom, so I willingly went to bed with him. But what about this time? What exactly happened?"
Natalie hadn't consumed any alcohol the previous night, yet her body felt feverish and hazy. She recalled, in fragmented flashes, her encounters with Adrian – his drawing close, their shared kisses, their climactic union.
She understood that she had been in a certain state of mind when they'd been intimate, yet she couldn't deny that she knew the man before her was Adrian.
She felt that after such an encounter, he must surely despise her now.
Meanwhile, in the study at Riverside Villa, Adrian sat in his executive chair, eyes half-closed, but his mind was a relentless reel of the previous night's scenes. His soul was in turmoil, and yet...
The room was permeated with the fragrance of scented candles, the kind that could stoke desires, usually found in clandestine entertainment venues.
Adrian thought, "And she even replicated Alice's scars to deceive me. To tempt me, that woman will stop at nothing!"