She stood in the middle of the mirror, looking at herself, the woman in the mirror had a palm-sized face.
Charlotte Miller looked at herself this way, feeling incredibly strange, always recalling how she looked over a month ago. At that ti, her face still carried a bit of baby fat, rounder than now. She didn’t know if it was because of the pregnancy, but her whole body seed fuller. But now it felt like all that nourishing moisture had evaporated along with that little boy with eyes like black crystals.
The cruel experience was like a sharp knife, carving her face into more distinct outlines and opening her heart.
Her fingers took a piece of cotton pad from the box on the marble washstand, gently wiping off the remaining lipstick on her lips, patiently and slowly. When she ca back, she saw Atlas Hallow, sitting there like a husband waiting for his wife to return late at night.
If that were true, how happy she would be, but no matter what, Charlotte couldn’t forget the few words Atlas Hallow had said, her heart twisting in pain as if about to crack open, yet she looked at Atlas with eyes pretending to be calms like still water.
She must treat this man as a stranger to go on living.
The bathroom door was pushed open, a tall and mighty man stood behind her, and Charlotte tensed up completely.
The pair of profound and gloomy eyes reflected in the mirror concealed all emotions.
Whenever she t Atlas Hallow’s gaze, she felt swallowed by the darkness within his pupils.
Her hand paused for a mont, then tossed the used cotton pad into the trash can.
Without saying a word, as if performing a silent drama, she chanically pointed at the bathroom door, aning for Atlas Hallow to leave?
Atlas Hallow showed no intention of leaving. Originally, her hand reached to her collar to pull down the zipper, but the action stopped.
Since he wouldn’t leave, she decided not to shower, turned, and prepared to walk out of the bathroom.
Suddenly, her slender wrist was grabbed by Atlas Hallow’s large hand, pulling her into his arms, causing pain in Charlotte’s arm.
The temperature of his hand was like a scorching iron, penetrating into her skin. Startled by him, Charlotte wanted to struggle but was pulled tighter. Unable to help but ask, "Atlas Hallow, what exactly are you doing?"
He’d said she had three days to consider; why was he acting crazy now?
This ti the silence belonged to Atlas Hallow. His face was sullen, as he silently reached out his other hand, ruthlessly tearing her clothes apart. As the zipper ca down, Charlotte’s exposed body radiated a gentle white glow...
Charlotte, while pushing him away, looked cautiously at Atlas Hallow. If he lost control and acted like a beast, what should she do?
When it ca to physical strength, she was no match for him.
He was in suspicion though, subconsciously believing Charlotte wouldn’t do anything excessive, but he couldn’t help wanting to see if there was a trace of another man on her.
That feeling seed to drive him crazy because he was growing more affectionate and loving, not wanting to suddenly restrict all her freedom, but letting her go out wasn’t allowing her to find other n casually.
Looking at the torn jeans, the fire in his heart burned even more.
He looked down at her, then reached for her pants, unbuttoned them, yanked down the chain, and pressed her against the washstand, pulling down her jeans to her ankles. Charlotte was there, wearing a pair of light pink panties.
"No..." Charlotte thought he really beca beastly and wanted to force himself on her, scared, her whole body trembling.
How could he do this when she was unwilling?
No?
Those words were like fuel to the fire, Atlas Hallow tore sharply, the air echoing with a crisp ripping sound. Charlotte struggled to sit up, wanting to run outside but hadn’t expected her ankles trapped by her jeans, and she fell to the cold floor.
The black marble reflected her shockingly pale body, her black hair almost lted into the floor, her body trembling in the support of her elbows, enticing as the most beautiful offering to the gods.
Watching the man slowly approach, as he leaned down, Charlotte retreated, the man’s large hand grabbed her ankle, the other hand reaching out...
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