Chapter 173 I Will Always Stand by Your Side
The door was pushed open, and the light was turned off instead.
It turned out to be Molly, the drunkard, who habitually went to turn on the light but ended up turning off the already lit one.
Instantly, the room plunged into darkness.
Francis didn't get up, his clean and cold fingers tightly gripping her jaw while he was capturing her lips and kissing her forcefully.
Harper was dizzy from his kiss; she was about to go crazy.
Molly staggered and shouted, "Harper, am I in the belly of a big whale? Why is it so dark? I'm so scared, Harper; where are you?"
Seeing Molly about to reach them, Harper had no choice but to bite his tongue hard. Taking advantage of his moment of pain, she pushed him away and jumped up.
Molly's legs gave way, and she hugged Harper. Her eyes were unfocused as she looked at the white rose petals scattered on the floor, slurring, "Is it snowing this early this year? Harper, shall we build a snowman? Men are all unreliable. Just wait; I'll introduce you to a bunch of men. What kind do you want? Young guys? Older ones? Pilots?"
Molly was drunk and started talking nonsense.
Harper couldn't help but cover her mouth. "That's enough."
"I want to. Actually, Keith is not bad; you two should..."
Harper dragged her to the bathroom and closed the door as she was afraid that Francis might hear something suspicious.
She had managed to deceive him with great difficulty and couldn't afford any more accidents.
Molly had drunk a lot; her entire face flushed red.
Harper undressed her and put her into the bathtub filled with water. Only then did she notice the marks on Molly's body.
From her neck to her toes, every part of her had bruises from sucking, and some places were even bitten to the point of breaking the skin and scabbing.
She carefully checked her back and buttocks and saw faint red marks as if from being whipped.
She had had sex before, so she understood where these marks were from.
Although Francis used to be rough when he was excited, he never left her covered in injuries. At most, her vagina would be swollen for a few days, which made it inconvenient to move.
But Molly's situation seemed like abnormal abuse.
She dared not go rough. So she gently wiped her with warm water. Even with light pressure, Molly cried out in pain.
Harper's nose tingled, and she asked, "Who did this to you?"
Molly, who was drunk and unable to hide the truth, cried and cursed, "Robert, that dog, he's a real dog, biting and hitting me. It hurts so much..."
Harper's hand trembled at the mention of Robert'sname.
How did they get tangled up again?
"Molly, why are you with him?"
"I don't want to, but he won't let me go, and he won't spare my parents either. Under his control, I have no chance to escape. I can only submit to him."
Harper was shocked. She thought they had moved on, but it turned out they were still entangled.
A dull, aching pain rose in her heart. She felt deeply sorry for Molly.
Molly was as foolish as she had been, having fallen fell in love with a man at a young age and loved him for many years.
So, she could completely empathize with her pain.
They were both trapped in the black hole of relationships. There was family hatred between her and the man she loved, and she had lost a child because of the man she loved.
They were in the same boat and equally miserable.
She knew Robert liked Quinn more than Francis liked Chloe back then, and they were already engaged.
In this situation, even if Molly was forced, she was at a great disadvantage.
Harper felt uneasy and always feared that something would happen to Molly.
Molly suddenly reached out and pinched her cheek and made a shushing gesture at her lips, whispering, "I'm only telling you this. Don't tell Harper, okay?"
Molly's voice suddenly became very soft, as fragile as glass. "I don't want her to think less of me."
Harper hugged her tightly, tears streaming down her face.
She choked and said, "I will never think less of you, Molly. If anything happens, you must tell me. I will always stand by your side."
Although Molly was drunk, she understood that Harper genuinely cared about her. She hugged her and cried her heart out.
They were both in a sorry state in the bathroom, surrounded by steam.
After drying her body, Harper dragged Molly out, dried her off, dressed her in pajamas, and helped her into the room.
Molly, who was exhausted from the commotion, hugged a pillow and fell asleep.
Harper, tired from the bath, didn't want to move and was about to go back to her room to sleep.
She opened the door and saw Francis leaning against the balcony railing, smoking.
She was stunned.
Francis glanced back at her, showing no sign of being in someone else's house, and leisurely finished his cigarette.
He had a towel loosely wrapped around his waist, but it didn't seem inappropriate. Instead, it made him look incredibly handsome and sexy.
His face, combined with his physique and demeanor, made him look good even if he wore nothing.
Harper blushed. How could she think of him naked?
Actually, he wasn't much different from being naked now.
His towel was so loosely tied that she wanted to rush over and tighten it.
She walked in, closed the door to prevent Molly from hearing, and asked him, "Why haven't you left?"
He replied, "Isn't the time not up yet?"
Harper was a bit confused, blinking, "What?"
Francis turned around, his figure slowly looming over her, and patiently explained, "You said it would end after tonight, and the time isn't up yet."
He glanced at the clock on the bedside table and said, "You wasted thirty-five minutes taking a bath. It's ten o'clock now."
Harper was dumbfounded by his words.
But she quickly understood what he meant.
Francis pulled her over, pressed her against the balcony railing, his fingers brushing her reddened eyes, and asked softly, "Do you both like to cry while taking a bath?"
Harper was stunned by his question and forgot the current atmosphere. She thought, 'You are the one to blame.'
Francis raised two fingers and waved them in front of Harper.
His fingers were beautiful, long and slender, polished by the moonlight, exquisite and perfect.
Harper felt a bit flustered and asked, "What do you want? We've already..."
She didn't want to mention the unpleasant words, so she just bit her lip and questioned him with her eyes.
It seemed like she was asking, "Are you going to break your promise?"
Francis whispered, "I promised not to pester you from tomorrow, but did I ever say we would only make love once?"
Harper was shocked by his shamelessness.
It seemed she hadn't explicitly stated the number of times she was willing to make love, which made her want to bite her tongue in frustration.
Indeed, communicating with a logical person could easily lead to falling into a logical trap.
He lowered his head and captured her lips again, his fingers slipping into her clothes.
"There are still two hours left. I don't want to waste them."
Francis had already relieved himself once, so he wasn't in a hurry. His movements were slow as he seemingly wanted her to remember all the pleasure he had brought her today.
Harper regretted it, but she had exhausted all her energy bathing Molly, which made her weak struggles seem more like cooperation.
She gave up but didn't forget to taunt him, hoping to end it quickly.
"Are you still potent?"
Francis wasn't provoked by her words, gripped her jaw, and asked, "What's the rush?"
Harper bit her lip, ignored him, and was too tired to respond.
"You can call it off," Francis said, his tone ambiguous.
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