Chapter 84

The Black Chandelier.

Suddenly, the memory of that man calling her late at night to clean the chandelier came to mind. This was the desk where he first tried to assault Grace.

He must have wanted to tear off her underwear then too.

In the end, he got his wish.

No matter how she tried to avoid it, it ended up like this.

A bitter laugh escaped her.

If she had been assaulted here that day, she would have been furious. Now, it just seemed ridiculous.

Winston, who had been looking down at her spread legs, lifted his head. A crooked smile was etched on his face as he undid his belt buckle.

She soon understood why he was smiling.

“Huh...”

As soon as his penis emerged, it pressed against her vaginal opening. The hot flesh slid up, parting the soft skin.

It tapped her deeply hidden clitoris and then sprang up to her lower abdomen, drenched in clear bodily fluid, evidence of Grace's arousal.

'So, what do you want me to do?'

Grace glared at him for a moment before turning her head to the side. Her eyes widened when they landed on the ashtray in front of the phone.

The ashtray was not filled with ash but with small clumps of paper, stamps.

Grace's lips curled into a laugh as she stared at the stamps used and discarded in some perverse game.

Goodness, she found herself laughing in the middle of this.

“Ahh...”

The laughter quickly subsided. The tip of his penis, coated with the arousal fluid, rubbed against her clitoris. Each time the blunt flesh pressed against the sensitive bumps, a sharp sensation, like being pierced by hot icicles, spread through her body.

Grace, who had been trembling below the waist, suddenly jerked her whole body. The long, thick flesh tore through her flesh and plunged to the end of her vagina without warning.

“A! Ah...”

“Quiet.”

A hand as hot as the penis inside her clamped over her mouth. The thought that soldiers might be standing outside the door made her cheeks burn under the large hand.

Winston slowly pulled out his penis, which he had buried in her, and ordered,

“Take it off.”

Grace began unbuttoning her blouse from the top, one by one. The buttons were small and round, slipping from her fingers each time her body shook.

Just as she had managed to unbutton three and was struggling with the button on her bra, the man, losing his patience, grabbed the collar of her blouse with both hands and ripped it open.

Plop. The buttons flew in all directions. Her bra was pulled up to her collarbone, and the thick tongue covered the peak of her heaving flesh.

“Suck...”

Grace had to cover her mouth with her hand.

But it was no use. The more intense the caresses and the movements of his hips became, the more explicit moans escaped through her weakened fingers.

In the end, Grace climaxed.

“Radio, ah, turn it on...”

“Ha, you wouldn’t have to if you didn’t make a sound, would you?”

As soon as his lips left her nipple, a sharp breath brushed against her wet skin.

“Ha, ha, stop it.”

He took her hand away from her mouth. Winston pinned her hands together on the desk and increased the speed of his thrusts.

“Huh...”

Her lower lip, pressed down, trembled. The more she tried to suppress her moans, the more forcefully the man thrust into her.

“Mmm, stop...”

The man, looking at her face, which was becoming more and more distressed, bent his head. His wet lips lightly touched her nose and then pulled away. After that, he continued to kiss her lightly, like a bird pecking.

It didn’t fit.

But when she couldn’t resist the intense stimulation and let out a moan into his mouth, Grace realized his intention.

Only this man’s mouth was allowed to cover hers.

A cruel person, whose mind was exceptionally developed in cruel ways. Grace glared at him and tilted her head.

His lips, like her legs, were tightly pressed together. Like a baby bird receiving food from its mother, the man sweetly swallowed the moans that Grace expelled.

Her breath grew heavier, but her eyes softened. Unlike the night a few days ago, when her body was hot but her heart was cold.

Was it because they met each other’s eyes in the light? In the midst of physical pleasure, their hearts, which had been loosely opened, exchanged warmth. This might be why he didn’t turn on the lights that night.

Suddenly, Grace realized she was smiling, drunk on the feeling of being filled.

The moment she came to her senses, the man’s smile also broke.

The thrusting stopped, and a silence like time standing still began. The two, frozen like they had been hit with cold water, stared at each other with confused eyes and suddenly clenched their teeth.

'This woman’s heart...'

'This man’s heart...'

I don’t need it.

The man, like someone waking from a dream, pulled away and grabbed the rattling collar, warning her fiercely.

“You’re my dog. Don’t forget who your master is.”

“The one who barks louder when scared is the dog, isn’t it?”

The two frightened dogs growled at each other, as if trying to tear each other apart.

Clinging to each other as if they would die without the other.

Humans are social animals. They feel uneasy without interacting with others in society.

Grace sought temporary relief from the only human in her tiny 'society' and found a long-lasting side effect of self-loathing at the end of that short-term relief.

Standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom attached to the office, Grace silently scolded herself.

Why do I seek comfort from a man who makes me feel uneasy?

Why do I seek intimacy from a man who makes me feel lonely?

She glared at her reflection in the mirror and then closed her eyes tightly.

A futile act.

She splashed cold water on her face to wash away the sticky residue of emotion, as if it were flowing between her legs. After drying her face, Grace picked up the silk handkerchief she had thrown on the floor of the sink.

Although she didn’t want to touch the handkerchief, which was soaked with bodily fluids, it was terrible to let a maid see the evidence of their encounter. She roughly wiped away the traces and wrung out the handkerchief, then hung it in the basket for used towels.

Grace wiped between her legs once more with a dry towel, then closed the collar of her blouse, which kept opening below her chest, and went out.

Winston was sitting at his desk, his chin in his hand. She thought he might be pretending to work as if nothing had happened, but his other hand was rolling something small.

As Grace approached, she frowned. What Winston was fiddling with was a button that had fallen off her blouse.

She held out her hand, but the man only tilted his head, looking at her intently.

“Read it.”

He nodded toward the floor. Following his gaze, she saw a yellow file lying where she had been lying.

[Copy: Regarding the Confiscation of Illegally Accumulated and Hidden Wealth After the Blanchard Family Revolution]

Seeing the title, Grace shot a sharp look at Winston. This was a report from the Ministry of Finance. The reason for asking an anti-government soldier to read government secrets was obvious from the title alone.

'What hidden wealth...'

It was a ploy to shake her trust.

“Reading this is what you’ll do today.”

I’ll do the job my distant relative asked me to do.

Although the woman showed reluctance, she picked up the report. Leon opened the envelope for the Sinclair building. After skimming through the investigation records, which were about the thickness of a thumb, he began writing the investigation report to send to the 'VIP.'

The investigation was sufficient. He decided to prove his sincerity and ability moderately and stop before getting involved in any troublesome matters.

Of course, the king would want Leon to find something, and he might denounce him as lacking both sincerity and ability.

But he had no intention of showing excessive loyalty. If problems arose because of that, the royal family would cut off the tail, and that tail would undoubtedly be the Winston family.

As Leon wrote the report, sticking to facts and excluding all opinions and interpretations, he suddenly noticed how quiet it was and turned his gaze to the side.

What a sight.

The woman, holding the report she hadn’t even flipped through, was lying on her side, asleep. Her blouse had slipped, revealing her pale skin and small navel. Although she might need a jacket, the sun was quite warm, and she had a content smile on her face.

Leon picked up the cushion that had fallen under the desk.

“I’m being tormented by my blood relatives day and night, and you’re taking a comfortable nap. I’m so jealous.”

He teased the woman, who couldn’t hear him, and propped the cushion against her back. Staring at her sleeping face, he recalled the seventh definition of this woman.

The descendant who devoured the life of the head of her family to be born.

It would be perfect if she also devoured the life of the leader of her pack.

The reason the anti-government leadership wanted to eliminate this woman, a member of the royal family. That is, the reason she might turn against the anti-government forces. He found it in a place he never expected. Luck was clearly on his side.

Leon smiled, brushing the hair from her pretty face.

Grace. Poor Grace.

Put a noose around your fiancé’s neck with your own hands. Destroy your world with your own hands to take revenge.

I will make sure you do it.

Just as he was about to give her a kiss of promise,

“Captain.”

Campbell knocked on the door and called him urgently. The woman, startled awake, didn’t even check what was happening and hid under the desk.

“What is it?”

As he stood up and asked, the door burst open, and Campbell, looking flustered, shouted,

“The inspector has arrived.”