Chapter 450 The Beast Wearing Human Skin
"You really are beautiful, Diana."
Jeffrey's fingers, holding a cigar, lightly tapped the armrest, causing ash to fall onto the cream-colored leather sofa. He looked at me with interest, his voice wrapped in cigar smoke, deep and aggressive.
"Changing clothes without even locking the door?"
I froze in place, my fingertips gripping the edge of my cashmere sweater tightly.
The scene before me was like a nightmare. Jeffrey, a man who should be on the run, was now sitting in my living room, like a lurking viper, invading my safe space. My legs felt nailed to the floor, unable to move despite wanting to retreat. Cold sweat soaked through my cashmere sweater, a mix of chill and fear sweeping over me.
The recording device I had hidden in the safe was now on the coffee table, its blue light piercingly bright.
"Hiding it in the secret compartment of the safe? You still haven't changed your habit of biting your lip when you're nervous."
Jeffrey's long fingers held Skylar's stuffed bear, bending its arm with a crack:
"Such an important thing, you hid it too carelessly. Nicholas was right, Diana, you're too naive."
Jeffrey could even crack my safe's code? Despite my anxiety, I forced myself to stand straight, my throat tight but managing a cold smile:
"Compared to the dirty tricks you play behind the scenes, mine are indeed not clever. But even the most hidden viper will eventually be skinned and gutted."
"Diana, why make yourself so miserable?"
Jeffrey's voice carried the sweet, cloying scent of his cigar, the end of his words trembling like a lover's whisper.
His silver cufflinks almost touched my heaving chest, his warm breath brushing my eyelashes, bringing a nauseating intimacy.
"Heartache isn't just words."
Jeffrey's fingertips suddenly brushed my collarbone, his distinct fingers hovering above the bruises on my waist, the warmth of his touch burning the wounds. Memories surged uncontrollably. Back at The Ends of the Earth, in the salty sea breeze, Jeffrey wore a linen shirt, explaining the shell fossils on the beach to me, his voice gentle enough to melt the twilight.
"This type of cowrie only appears at low tide, just like meeting you."
Back then, Jeffrey picked up my hat swept away by the waves, tied a shell bracelet for me, the touch of his fingers completely different from now. My trembling fingertips unconsciously brushed the spot where his fingers hovered, still lingering with the illusion of his past grip.
The suited Jeffrey before me overlapped and shattered with the image of him reading poetry to me, those late-night talks and shared sunrises, all revealed to be poisoned candy.
The salty taste rose to my tongue, indistinguishable between cold sweat and tears. I turned my face away from Jeffrey's amused expression, but couldn't escape the deafening thump of my heartbeat in my chest. His scent of cedar mixed with gunpowder filled my nose, making my stomach churn with nausea.
I bit down hard on my molars, my neck straining to the point of breaking. My nails dug crescent-shaped marks into my palms, forcing myself to meet his playful gaze. My stomach twisted in spasms, unsure if it was physical pain or the sting of memories.
"Stay away from me."
My voice carried a barely noticeable tremor, the scars under my cashmere sweater aching with each rapid breath, the old wounds kissed by Jeffrey now burning.
"Don't be so resistant."
Jeffrey suddenly closed in, his hot palm pressing against the wall behind me, deliberately shaking cigar ash onto the hollow of my collarbone, the burning pain making me shiver.
His familiar scent of cedar mixed with tobacco overwhelmed me, his breath brushing my ear, making me instinctively turn my head away, only to collide with his warm palm. The once gentle gesture of lifting my chin to recite love poems now felt invasive.
My blood screamed in rejection. Jeffrey's throat released a low laugh, filled with the satisfaction of control:
"You still smell the same, like sea salt mixed with jasmine."
The image of Jeffrey reciting Neruda's verses under the stars now turned into the sharpest mockery.
I suddenly turned my head, using all my strength to slam into his nose.
Jeffrey grunted, warm blood splattering on the collar of my cashmere sweater, the metallic scent mixed with cigar smoke hitting me.
As he loosened his grip in pain, I grabbed the crystal ashtray from the coffee table and smashed it hard, the sound of glass shattering, sharp fragments cutting his cheek, leaving a bloody mark on his pale skin.
I picked up the brass umbrella stand by the door, pointing the tip at Jeffrey's throat, my arm and voice trembling:
"Take one more step, and I'll call the police right now!"
The violent breathing tore at my lungs, each breath feeling like a dull knife twisting my insides. But worse than this pain was the ripped scar in my heart, the Jeffrey who once recited love poems under the stars had rotted into a beast wearing human skin in the whirlpool of interests.
Jeffrey clutched his bleeding forehead, a flash of anger in his eyes.
But he suddenly laughed eerily, pressing a button on his watch with blood-stained fingers: "Call the police? Who do you think those people downstairs belong to?"
Jeffrey loosened his tie, revealing a delicate silver chain around his neck, with a shell pendant I had found at The Ends of the Earth and given to him as a gift.
He stared at my red-rimmed eyes from anger, letting out a low laugh:
"Diana, you really are still that stubborn woman."
Jeffrey leisurely took out a handkerchief to press against his wound, his fingers deliberately smearing blood before wiping it on my cashmere sweater, his shoes crunching over the mess as he walked to the door:
"But don't worry, I'll be back."
As the security door slammed shut, my tense body collapsed. My back slid down the wall, finally sitting on the cold floor, the pain under my cashmere sweater piercing, making my vision darken. I reached out trembling for my phone, only to find my palm covered in blood, unsure if it was mine or Jeffrey's. The rain outside had started again, raindrops tapping on the glass, mixing with my rapid breathing, echoing in the empty room.
The phone screen lit up with a blinding white light, Melissa's missed calls accumulating to seven. I mechanically swiped to unlock, but stopped at the dial button, who could I call? The police wouldn't believe Jeffrey's absurd behavior of coming and going freely.
My stomach churned, I stumbled into the bathroom, dry heaving over the toilet. The cold tiles pressed against my cheek, the distorted reflection in the mirror showing the red marks on my neck and bruises on my collarbone, glowing eerily under the warm yellow light. Memories uncontrollably flashed back to The Ends of the Earth, Jeffrey gently wiping cake crumbs from my mouth, overlapping with his ruthless act of pressing ash into my skin, stomach acid burning my throat, tears finally streaming down.
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