Chapter b31 /b

Ynda nodded, pressing closer. Even through the haze, bshe /bcould tell Jan’s body was wless, every line bof /bhim powerful.

And what he bmeant /bwas something else entirely.

bYnda /bstayed silent. Outside, the rain continued its relentless rhythm, and the curtains swayed in the damp breeze. Suddenly, she shoved him away,

Ian sank onto the bed, the dim glow of the bedsidemp casting long slndows across the room.

Ynda’s cheeks burned. She clutched her coat tighter, her fingers trembling.

He had changed into loose ck track pants earlier when he’d stepped out. Now, he studied her, voice low. “More water?”

Sweat slicked her palms. Her thoughts spun, What do I do now?”

He held the cup to her lips, his face striking in the muted lightb. /b

She couldn’t bring herself to drink. Shame coiled in her stomach.

When she didn’t move,n set the cup down. He sat beside her, hesitating before muttering, “Sorry”

Her heart stuttered. She exhaled sharply. She was the one who’d been drugged and lost control–why was he apologizing? Fragments of memory surfaced: her pleading and his restraint.

Fingers twisting the nket, she swallowed. “I’m the one who should apologize. Just… give me a second.”

This had spiraled beyond anything she’d imagined. ‘How could I even look at him now?‘ She pressed her palms to her temples.

Then, through the fog, his voice came again, hesitant. “None of the films I did before had kissing scenes.” fn26ae Fresh chapters posted on FindN0vel/fn26ae

She nced over. He was crushing the water bottle in his grip, his difort palpable. The stic crackled loudly in the quiet room, crumpling under his fingers.

A thought struck Ynda: the kiss they shared maybe was his first one. She sat frozen, her shirt half- unbuttoned

Suddenly, he leaned over and kissed her softly. “I meanb, /bI’m pure,” he said abruptly. Then he stood, scooped her pants off the floor, andid them on the bed.

She opened her mouthb, /bbut no words came.

The inner door clicked open. He left without another word. The entire floor was rented by the crew, though. Maybe he had to stay in the hallways.

Ynday there for what felt like hours, btorn /bbetween mortification and the urge to p herself. Finally, she

7:42 Thu, Sep 11

dragged herself up and fled to the shower.

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After her shower, she felt refreshed, the exhaustion washing away. She turned up the lights, bas /bif brightness could dissolve the lingering awkwardness.

Outside, rain drummed against the windows. The memory of how her hands cradled bn’s /bface and that impulsive first kiss rushed back.

She buried her face in her palmsb, /bcheeks burning. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake it from her mind. She’d been dazed at the time, but she remembered how desperately he’d tried to please her.

Ynda pushed open the window, letting the cool night air rush in. Finally, her thoughts settled.

Then her phone rang. It was nine at night,ter than she’d ever stayed out before. She took a steadying breath and nced at Charles’s name. A flicker of guilt tightened in her chest. Anyway, she answered.

“Where are you?” His voice bwas /bsharp.

Ynda replied with that sweet, satisfied tone, “At the studio. Megan was discharged today. We’re going over

our next steps.

He didn’t press further, just tossed his loosened tie aside. That suit you pressed for mest monthb, /bremember? Where is it?”

bYnda /blooked down. The light brown one–Charles rarely wore anything so casual. He preferred dark, steady tones with nothing shy. She answered. “It’s in the dust bag on the far right of your bcloset/b.

A cab door clicked open on his end. A beat of silence, and then his voice softened. “You remember every little thing, don’t you? I’ve got a short triping up. Next time, don’t stay out sote.”

He sounded in a good mood tonight, probably because the deal with Samuel had gone well.

Ynda listened to the rain drumming against the window and seized the opening. “Honey, the studio’s just getting off the ground. I might be busier from now on.”

Charles lit a cigarette, raking a hand through his hair. Fresh scratches ran down his back. Those wild, careless marks came from someone who wasn’t his wife.

He knew what she was really asking for: freedom, experience, a life outside their home. But in his mind, she didn’t need it. She hadn’t suffered enough to understand the world.

Ynda didn’t wait for his refusal; bshe /balready knew it. Charles had that old–school pride buried deep. Mistresses were for fun, while bwives /bwere for keeping

Sure enough, he finally said. “Ynda, don’t do it again.”

Her grip tightened around the phone. The unfairness of it stung–he’d disappear for months with other women, yet she couldn’t even stay outte once. She drew a slow breath.

His voice cut through bagain/b, colder now. The bGrant /bfamily married you off to me because you were obedient. That’s what I expect from my wife–quiet, at home. Business bisn’t /ba woman’s concern.”

7:42 Thu, Sep b11 /b

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A long drag of his cigarette. The silence stretched, uneasy. He’d grown too used to her waiting, like a pet, dependable and tame. Maybe he’d indulged her too much.

“I’ll bring you a gift when I’m back,” he said, softer now. “Just stay home.”

Ynda pressed her lips together and said nothing.

When the call ended, she stared out at the storm, exhaling slowly.

The rain had finally stopped by dawn. When Ynda came downstairs et 6 a.m., she foundn sprawled awkwardly across a lobby bchair/b, a book draped over his face like a makeshift sleep mask.

The dim lighting and dozing receptionist gave the space a hushed stillness. His long legs dangled ufortably over the chair’s edge–he was too tall for the cramped furniture.

She approached quietly and lifted the book from his face. His striking features, rxed in sleep, made her pulse stutter.