Chapter 48 Aaron Goes Mad

The angry shout sent Eleanor's mind into a blank panic.

Sounds of water churning echoed from the hot spring, and Vincent's voice full of shock and panic reached her ears. Eleanor bolted, unsure of what obstacles she stumbled over in the dim light as she gasped for air, racing towards the door.

The hallway was deathly silent. She sprinted barefoot on the wooden floor, the cold sending a shiver through her body that clashed with the hot blood coursing through her veins, feeling like she might pass out at any second.

Footsteps followed her from behind, making her scalp tingle.

She was done for!

Suddenly, a hand reached from behind, covering her mouth!

Her pupils dilated as she instinctively struggled, legs flailing and head shaking violently, trying to bite the hand that silenced her. But the strength of the person behind her was overpowering, lifting her with ease and dragging her into the adjacent room.

In the pitch-black room, she was pinned against the wall. As the hand briefly let go, she readied a scream for help, only to be swiftly silenced as his palm firmly covered her mouth again, its calloused fingers revealing its owner to be a man. Danger was palpably close.

Panic filled her eyes as she fought back with reckless abandon, tears streaming down her face.

"It's me."

A low and familiar voice.

Eleanor's eyes widened in shock.

It was Aaron.
Her eyes slowly adapted to the darkness, and through the dim light coming in from the window, she could indeed recognize the tall and imposing man standing before her as Aaron.

A wave of fright surged through her the next moment. With a clenched fist, she swung at his shoulder. "You scared me on purpose…"

Aaron grasped her fist, looking down into her tear-filled eyes which truly showed her alarm, her face gone pale.

In a calm tone that was rare for him, he said, “I haven’t even asked you what you were running around the hallway for.”

Eleanor caught her breath, still trembling from terror—so much so that she hadn’t noticed the subtle, watery fragrance emanating from Aaron's presence. As its light, elusive scent surrounded her, she gradually felt a sense of calm.

She hesitated whether to show Aaron the video and photos she had taken, but she wasn't sure how Aaron would react towards Vincent. She needed to make her move decisively.

So, she lied, “A cat startled me just now.”

Her eyelashes quivered, tears clinging to them, her distressed appearance hinting at someone who had just been frightened.

Aaron tightened his grip on her hand. “What are you doing here?”

Eleanor wanted to say she had a meeting with a client, but since she had rented a room, what kind of client meeting required that? Aaron was too smart; such a lie would not hold up.

After a moment of thought, she said, "I heard taking a hot spring bath can help with a cold. This place is reputed to be the best in Nan City, so I came for a soak.”

She couldn’t tell if Aaron believed her or not. He watched her in the darkness for a moment, then with a click, a warm yellow light spilled down from above, chasing away all of her fear and dread.

Facing the man mere inches away, his masculine presence overwhelming, she found herself immobilized in his shadow, only belatedly realizing he had been holding her hand the whole time.

"Aaron, with your busy schedule, did you also come for a hot spring?" She tried to pull her hand back, but Aaron tightened his hold even more.

He let out a cold laugh in response to some word that irked him, "Not come for a hot spring? For you?”

The tension was palpable—in this room alone, they had shared countless encounters. Their bodies merged more harmoniously than their souls. As soon as he spoke, Eleanor felt a discomfort she couldn't hide.

Especially the scent coming from Aaron, it aggressively entwined around her.

Fortunately, Aaron let go of her hand, sparing her the risk of revealing her unease.

"You're sick and uncomfortable; why didn't you say so yesterday?"

Eleanor bristled like a defensive hedgehog, "Had I told you, would you have spared me from apologizing to Vincent?”

Aaron pulled out his lighter and cigarette case, lit a cigarette, and the smoke tinted his gaze with a detached coolness. His voice was hard to pin down as either mocking or threatening, “Since you’re so concerned about your health, how do you still have the energy to bake cakes for someone else?”

Eleanor looked at him sharply.

She had made a cake for Colin Harris, and no third person knew about it.
He...What?

Eleanor was about to throw back at him, asking if he had seen the cake last night, but before the words could leave her mouth, the realization hit her—she couldn’t ask. Asking would spill the beans that she knew Aaron had been to her place. It would indirectly admit that she had feigned sleep.

So she played dumb, "I have no idea what you're talking about. What cake?"

Aaron chuckled lightly as he flicked ash from his cigarette.

The ash tumbled down, scorching hot, and Eleanor instinctively pulled back her hand.

His laughter deepened suddenly, unsettling, and before Eleanor could react, he grabbed her by the neck, pulled her close, and pressed his lips to hers.

The pungent nicotine was suffocating. Eleanor instinctively struggled, but Aaron, as if punishing her, kept her sealed tightly until smoke had rolled through his lungs and her eyes teared up before he finally let go.

Gasping for air, Eleanor clutched her throat and coughed violently as the fresh air stung painfully.

Tears born of reflex rather than emotion splashed onto the wooden floor.

Turning to leave, she considered the man that might be out there with Vincent, likely still searching for her. If Vincent saw her now, the coincidence would be too great, too revealing. He would guess it was her.

In that moment of hesitation, Aaron's hand landed on the door, still holding his cigarette, as his other hand yanked her back inside.

She tensed up instinctively. "What are you doing?"

Without answering, Aaron put out his cigarette and led Eleanor towards a folding screen.

Fear crept into Eleanor. Aaron's recent behavior triggered an innate alarm, making her question whether getting entangled with him again for revenge against Vincent was a mistake. She had never seen this side of Aaron before.

Yet, it fit him eerily well, as if a madman lurked within his soul.

"Aaron, let go of me. What do you think you're doing!"

He slid open a door with one hand, the noise echoing as the door hit the stop and rebounded slightly.

Steam rose from the hot spring, forming a misty veil in the neon light, a breathtaking, almost ethereal scene.

But to Eleanor, it sent a chill down her spine.

She struggled to leave.

Pulling her back, Aaron tore at her overcoat to reveal the modern style qipao underneath, its neckline fastened by traditional frog buttons, which he ripped at forcefully.

Under the neon glow, the stark angles of his face looked bewitchingly dangerous, almost demonic.

As the buttons gave way, he tore open her neckline. "Weren't you going to soak in the hot spring? I'll help you with that cold."
Fleeing the Embrace of My Obsessed Husband
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