To My First Love, With Regret - 92

Why you? Why now, of all times?

In a surge of panic, she tried to slam the door, but it was already too late.

Crrr-ack.

The security chain was ripped away like paper under a monstrous force applied from the outside. At the same time, Eve was shoved backward helplessly by a hand that thrust through the gap.

As soon as the doorway cleared, Ethan Fairchild kicked the door open like a maddened beast and stormed into the room.

Click.

Before she could even recover from the shock, the door was locked with a chilling metallic snap. The man who had trapped Eve in this private cell in an instant looked down at her with the eyes of a predator. His gaze was so feral, as if he might bite her throat at any second, that Eve couldn’t even blink.

—…Are you insane?

She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, but terrified that Owen—still sprawled out on the bed—might wake up, Eve had no choice but to interrogate him in a hushed, strangled voice.

—What the hell do you think you’re doing? Get out. Right now.

Of course, if he were the type of person to leave quietly at a single command, he wouldn’t have broken down the door in the first place. He merely stood there with one hand shoved crookedly into his trouser pocket, letting out a faint, acrid laugh. He was actually enjoying the sight of her bristling with fear. He was certainly living up to his reputation as a villain.

When he suddenly took a step forward, Eve flinched back instinctively but found herself unable to move. Ethan had seized her wrist in a single motion, pinning her to the spot.

The distance between their bodies narrowed to a dangerous degree. The moment Ethan’s ragged breath poured over her, Eve felt as though she might suffocate from the heavy stench of alcohol.

…Is he drunk?

A man who had completely lost his reason—just what on earth did he intend to do, breaking into her hotel room like this?

Eve’s trembling gaze shifted down to his waist. She couldn’t take her eyes off the cold weapon holstered there.

Does an ominous premonition ever miss its mark? Ethan’s hand slid out of his pocket and moved slowly, but surely, toward the pistol. Terrified, Eve scrambled to grab his wrist.

—Ethan, please. Don’t do this.

She was no match for a man’s strength. He shook her hand off with the indifference of someone brushing away an annoying insect.

Click.

A sharp metallic sound rang out. Just as Eve froze in horror……

Thud.

What followed wasn’t the expected gunshot, but the sound of something being unfastened. Ethan hadn’t been reaching for the pistol. He had merely unbuckled the leather belt where the holster hung.

While Eve stared at the drooping belt in disbelief, Ethan began nonchalantly unbuttoning his jacket, uttering something incomprehensible.

—I’ll accept the proposal.

—What… proposal?

—The one where we two screw, and your husband watches.

—…What?

The fake proposal she had once thrown out just to shut him up had come back to haunt her. The man who had been so infuriated then, as if he had been insulted, was now demanding that foul act with his own mouth.

It was a shock. Not just because of the perverse demand. Where had that mad possessiveness gone—the one that sent her husband to the front lines because he couldn’t stand the thought of sharing her?

Now, he was volunteering to share. As if Eve was no longer even worth monopolizing.

No… no, it can’t be.

—You said you hated the idea… why on earth did you change your mind?

Following his jacket, Ethan ripped off his tie and threw it to the floor, a crooked smirk on his face.

—Does a man need a reason for being horny?

He sneered, appearing to savor the sight of Eve’s hardening expression.

—Your husband gets off on having his wife taken, I’ve discovered the joy of stealing another man’s wife, and you’re desperate to roll around with a stranger. Three perverts with perfectly aligned interests between their legs—let’s have a hell of a night.

In the midst of this verbal bombardment that made her head spin, Eve stole a glance behind her. Owen was still fast asleep, oblivious to this disaster. It was a relief in more ways than one. She didn’t even want to imagine how she would have handled this mess if he had woken up.

Meanwhile, Ethan’s hand, which had been unceremoniously pulling her waist close and rummaging beneath her skirts, stopped dead between her thighs. Following her gaze, the man furrowed his brow and asked:

—But why the hell is your husband still passed out and sleeping?

Ethan’s gaze locked onto Owen’s waist, which Eve had only partially finished disheveling. Although the owner lay as still as a corpse, his ‘other self’ was surging hideously, looking as if it might tear through his underwear.

The man who had suggested having a ‘hell of a night as a trio’ suddenly twisted his face in visceral disgust at the sight of another man’s arousal. He spat the words out as if he had tasted something foul.

—So even a rat’s tail can stand up.

The blatant mockery on Ethan’s face suddenly hardened into a mask of rigid stillness. It was as if he had realized something while staring at Owen’s exposed, pathetic state. When his gaze slowly drifted back to Eve, he looked at her as if she were a monster.

—Don’t tell me… were you undressing this drunk, unconscious bastard just so you could ride him?

His intuition was chillingly sharp. Instead of fumbling for an excuse in her panic, Eve laughed and leaned into the lie with bold defiance.

—He’s not drunk. I drugged him. I prefer men who are unconscious.

The intent behind the lie was a warning: So don’t even think about waking him. Of course, Ethan was completely derailed by Eve’s shocking ‘preference.’

—You… you weren’t that kind of pervert….

—People change.

—…Just how have you been living for the past ten years to have fallen this far?

Eve threw back a single, heavy sentence, devoid of emotion.

—I’ve reached a point where I can’t feel at peace unless it’s a man who can’t run away from me on his own two feet.

It was a barb aimed directly at the man who had run away from her ten years ago, but Ethan didn’t seem to catch the subtext.

—Ha… how merciful of you not to have cut his ankles off, Lady. Fine, let’s say that turns you on. What about this prick? What part of playing a corpse makes him want to volunteer to take the pills?

He clearly didn’t understand it. Ethan Fairchild might be a man of loose morals, but apparently, he wasn’t that kind of pervert. Eve saw her opening.

—Do you want to take a pill, too? I’ll take turns riding both of you all night. If you want, I’ll even leave traces of how I enjoyed your body. It’ll be fun for you to wake up tomorrow and imagine what happened.

Don’t I look like a madwoman? Doesn’t this wake you up? Doesn’t it kill your lust? Then get out of this room right now.

The blue-gray eyes staring at her as if she were a stranger trembled. Seeing the cold loathing spread through them, Eve felt a chill in her chest, but also a sense of relief.

It’s over now. This man will pick up his clothes and flee from here.

—Ugh!

But her prediction missed the mark. The one who was suddenly swept up into his arms was Eve herself. Ethan still had that look of horror at the situation, but his lips curved into a wicked, defiant smirk.

—Well. It doesn’t turn me on. So why don’t we just do it the way we always do? After all, that’s your ‘preference’ too, isn’t it?

Just how have you been living for the past ten years to have fallen this far? Those were the words Eve should have been saying to Ethan Fairchild.

To think he would be so obsessed with planting the seed of revenge in her womb that he would stoop to the indecency of coupling in a room with another person present. Eve had not fallen quite that far. The mere thought of having relations next to that disgusting pervert made her skin crawl with shame.

And above all, now was not the time to attempt conception. It was the time to pretend to have tried, to soil the bed with traces of a struggle.

The moment that thought took hold, Eve was swept away by a logic that was as rational as it was insane. Her body, which had been struggling like a piece of luggage on Ethan’s shoulder, suddenly went limp. Her resisting hands fell slack against the broad expanse of his back.

If we actually do it… I won’t have to fake the evidence.

It was a temptingly easy path, but at the same time, it was the final station of an unforgivable corruption. To entangle like beasts on a bed where another man lay unconscious—the sense of immorality made her feel physically sick.

Yet, wasn’t undressing a sleeping man and forging the traces of a fake tryst alone just as disgusting and depraved? She suddenly grew weary of her own fastidiousness, of her hands already stained with filth yet flinching at a little more grime.

She was already so, so tired of everything. Eve shut her eyes to her own fall and stopped resisting. She threw herself onto that easy path.

Thud.

As she was carried quietly, her skirt, which he had stripped away, fell to the floor. Now, only a slip and her underwear covered her lower body.

When they reached the bed, Ethan’s steps stopped. For some reason, a hollow, mocking laugh reached her ears. He was undoubtedly looking down at Owen, who occupied one side of the bed.

—It’s a first for me, stealing a wife right in front of her husband.