Chapter 42 Someone Else in Her Heart?
Harper leaned helplessly against the frigid bathroom wall, at the mercy of his taking. In that moment, she felt utterly powerless, a plaything to be bullied at will.
Her tears were a mix of salty and sweet, which only seemed to inflame Francis more as he tasted them. He released her abruptly, with anger in his eyes.
As Harper's hand flew up to slap him, he seized her wrist, the veins standing out starkly as he hissed, "Don't you dare!" The threat in his voice was clear. He couldn't promise to restrain himself if she dared hit him for that other man.
Francis's grip tightened. It was so tight that Harper couldn't wriggle free. She turned away from him with loathing, his touch repulsive to her. The mere thought of those lips kissing someone else made her nauseous.
Yet, she knew that challenging Francis was not to her advantage. Softening her tone, she pleaded, "Let me go, please."
He rarely heard her speak gently, and deep in his predatory gaze, he pondered before finally saying "Fine" and releasing her.
Harper tried to leave, but a hand on her waist pulled her back against the wall. They stood close together.
"It's a one-time mercy," he stated, with no intention of leniency a second time.
Harper was speechless with frustration, retorting bitterly, "Why are you being such a jerk..."
But her lips were silenced once more.
Francis delighted in her fiery spirit, so full of life, far preferable to the hollow politeness she had displayed in the car earlier that day.
This time, Francis was patient, starting at her tender neck, then drifting up to nibble her lobe with teasing finesse. His movements were deliberate, leisurely tracing each sensitive spot. It was less a kiss and more an exquisitely orchestrated torment.
In this respect, Francis was an expert at playing her like a finely tuned instrument.
He would often draw out the foreplay after a satisfying feast, biding his time, waiting for her to beg for mercy.
Pressed against the cold wall, Harper was torn between indignation and embarrassment, her body trembling violently.
His lips finally found hers again, heady and intoxicating, drawing her deep with just one taste.
He wanted her, now more than ever. It had been nearly a month since they had been this intimate.
Before Harper, Francis was a man of restraint, unaffected by the advances of others, wondering at times if he had any desire at all.
But after his encounter with Harper, it was as if he had developed an insatiable, acquired taste.
It wasn't a lack of desire. It was a desire too strong to ignore.
Harper had no clue what was running through his mind. She just knew his advances were becoming increasingly bold, his hands wandering dangerously off course.
To her dismay, her struggles meant nothing against this formidable man.
In a blind panic, she grasped the first thing her hand found on the vanity and, with eyes shut tight, hurled it at Francis' head.
There was a dull thud.
Blood, bright red, trickled from Francis' temple, staining the corner of his eye and tinging the tail of it crimson.
Harper froze.
She looked at her hand, surprised to find herself holding the crystal ornament from the vanity. Its sharp edges could have been dangerous if she had swung it with more force.
Her mouth opened, but no words came out.
She never intended to hit him with something so hard.
"What's so good about him, anyway?" Francis, ignoring his wound, fixed her with an icy stare and asked.
They had been in sync for two years.
Yet now, with her Senior back, she couldn't stand his kisses anymore. However, she used to enjoy them a lot.
Blood tainted Francis' left cheek, covering his ear. It was unclear where the bleeding was worst, but it looked terrible.
"I...I..." Harper choked up, tears streaming down her face.
Silence engulfed the room like death.
Her state twisted a sharp pain in Francis' usually cold heart, stoking fires of rage within.
For two years, he had been oblivious to her harboring feelings for someone else.
Had all her sweetness been an act?
No wonder she had signed the divorce papers so eagerly. It was because her lover had returned.
Was he supposed to step aside now, to let her fall into the arms of another?
'No way in hell!'
He snatched the crystal ornament from her hand and hurled it against the wall.
Crash!
The sound of shattering crystals echoed as fragments scattered.
Harper screamed, but then Francis seized her jaw, his eyes a cold, steely glare.
"Remember this, if you dare see him again, I'll make sure he disappears from Westerlyn. I mean what I say!"
With that, he slammed the door behind him.
Harper slumped against the wall, sinking until she was seated, arms wrapped tightly around her knees. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her gaze fixed on a distant point as emotions overwhelmed her.
A familiar pain ebbed and flowed in her abdomen. She pressed a hand to her stomach, trying to alleviate the discomfort.
The door burst open with a bang.
Auntie stepped in, and her eyes widened at the mess. She quickly moved to help Harper, blurting out in concern, "There's blood everywhere. Are you hurt?"
Harper shook her head. "It's not mine."
Auntie's mouth snapped shut as she processed the situation, then softly added, "Harper, let's get you upstairs to rest."
Once upstairs, Auntie tucked Harper in comfortably and asked, "I just finished preparing some soup. Would you like some?"
Feeling somewhat disheartened, Harper murmured, "Thank you, Auntie, but I don't feel like eating right now. I just want to lie down for a bit."
Auntie nodded in agreement and then paused, looking back as she said, "Harper, Francis has recently brought in a lot of tonics. He's even followed the chef's precise recipes to make sure they're perfect. It's all for your health, to replenish your energy. I hope you don't mind my saying so, but you two used to be so close. Think of the good times you had, and don't let minor issues drive a wedge between you.'"
"Got it," Harper replied softly.
Auntie was pleased Harper was listening. "Just rest. If you need anything, just call. There's food ready in the kitchen whenever you're hungry."
Once Auntie left, Harper reflected on her words. The affection of old times—she missed it too, but pity it was all a façade.
Francis didn't love her. His heart belonged to someone else.
Thin moonlight spilled into the room, carrying a touch of cool air.
Suddenly, Harper felt it might not be such a bad thing to be disliked by him. She closed her eyes, haunted by the image of blood trickling down to his ear, which was her doing. Despite everything, she found herself unable to stop worrying about him.
Francis didn't return all night.
In the morning, Harper finished her breakfast, went upstairs to change, applied some lipstick, and got ready to head out.
The Moou Residence had a driver on standby, who quickly took Harper to Epoch Studio.
Located in the expensive Central District of Westerlyn, the studio was housed in a Golden Building, shimmering in its opulence. For any newbie designer, it was a dream to make it here, where there was the best chance to showcase their work on both national and international stages.
Finally getting to immerse herself in the work she loved, Harper took a deep breath to steady her nerves and walked in.
She had an appointment and was quickly ushered in to see General Manager Hannah, who was surprisingly young, in her early thirties, with a strikingly austere beauty and an imposing presence.
After a brief conversation, Hannah reviewed the designs Harper had brought. Her expression remained neutral as she looked over the sketches. Setting them down, she said, "Harper, the traditional style of your graduation project and what you've brought today clashes a bit with our studio's aesthetic."
Epoch Studio's designs were decidedly Western-oriented.
But Harper's heart was set on promoting traditional elements in her designs, which was also her passion.
She winced inwardly, thinking her chances were slim.
However, Hannah continued, "That said, I'm open to exploring something new. When could you start, Harper?"
Caught off guard, Harper quickly said, "I could start next month."
There were many things she needed to settle before she could commit to working with peace of mind.
"All right, you can just show up when it's time. You can go now," Hannah said, turning her attention back to the tasks at hand.
After Harper had left, Hannah rapped lightly on the break room door and said, "All clear, she's gone."
A man of dignified bearing emerged as the door swung open.
Hannah eyed him teasingly, "What's the matter? Are you afraid I might eat her up?"
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