CHAPTER 79: CHAPTER 79- RELATIONSHIP

Her cheeks were as smooth and pristine as white porcelain, her features delicate yet gentle. The way she slept—quiet, obedient, and peaceful—touched the softest part of his heart without a sound.

Just as Lilian had said, simply looking at her like this made one feel calm, serene, and content, as if time itself had paused to let life feel beautiful.

He walked over, bent down, and gently lifted her into his arms, turning to leave the studio. His original intention was to place her on the bed so she could sleep comfortably. But no sooner had he set her down than she woke up.

When her eyes opened, she stared at him above her, bewildered. In that instant, Bert’s heart raced. He worried she might think he intended something inappropriate. His first instinct was to get up immediately, but then he realized it was too late. Gathering his courage, he planted his hands firmly at her sides, making no move to evade her gaze. His dark eyes burned straight into hers.

As expected, Catherine was terrified. Anyone waking up to find a man hovering over them—especially on a bed—would be startled.

She hurriedly pushed him, her voice trembling.

"W-what are you doing?"

Bert remained calm, explaining,

"I saw you asleep, so I wanted to carry you to the bed to rest."

"Then... now... what are you doing?"

Catherine continued pushing him.

"Get up!"

He responded decisively with two words:

"I’m not."

Catherine: "..."

Catherine felt tears welling up. Not? What did that mean? What was he planning?

In another place, in another position, perhaps she wouldn’t have felt so tense—but here, on the bed, with him propped on either side of her, the situation was both dangerous and intimate. Any small movement from him, and she would have no chance of escaping...

"Why don’t you like me?"

Suddenly, he asked her that. Catherine froze. He continued without waiting for her response:

"Is there something about me that you don’t like? My appearance, my demeanor, my personality, or... something else?"

His presence was overwhelming, and Catherine’s thoughts were completely carried along by his words.

So, when he finished speaking, she shook her head instinctively.

"I... I don’t dislike you..."

He pressed on,

"So you do like me? If you like me, then why did you reject me?"

Catherine: "..."

What she meant by "don’t dislike" was that she didn’t mind him—it did not necessarily mean she liked him...

"You—you’ve misunderstood—"

Catherine hurriedly tried to explain,

"When I said I don’t like you, I meant—"

She wanted to clarify that her so-called "don’t like" meant she didn’t dislike him. But his way of twisting reality was just too strong—he had forcibly turned it into her liking him...

Before she could even finish her sentence, her soft red lips were silenced, sealed in a domineering, unyielding kiss that blocked every word she was about to speak.

It was Bert, leaning over once again to kiss her after the kiss in the studio.

Their lips met, and Catherine’s heart trembled violently. She wanted to push him away but found herself completely powerless.

When he finally released her, Catherine felt her face burning red. Bert’s deep eyes locked on her flushed cheeks and hazy eyes as he asked softly,

"If another man kissed you like that, how would you react?"

Catherine’s mind was still reeling from the surprise and embarrassment he had just stirred in her. His question made her reflect instinctively—she would feel disgust, perhaps even recalling kisses from Gerald, which now seemed completely intolerable. If it were another man, she might have even slapped him.

Yet, after Bert kissed her twice in succession, she had no such impulse. Instead, she felt shy, stirred... emotionally affected.

When she mentioned another man kissing her, the fleeting flash of aversion in her eyes was caught clearly by Bert. He was pleased by her reaction, and a faint smile curved his lips.

"Because you feel inferior, and think you’re not worthy of me? That’s why you don’t dare to be with me?"

She didn’t reject his closeness, nor his kiss—showing that, deep down, she did have some affection for him.

His words so plainly revealed Catherine’s inner thoughts that she turned her gaze away, embarrassed.

Yes, because of her inferiority complex, she didn’t dare to reach for him.

In truth, she wasn’t lacking in merit. If it had been another man confessing or pursuing her, Catherine wouldn’t feel this way. But it was Bert.

He was mature, steady, and, as a designer, incredibly talented. He had a captivating appearance, immense wealth, everything that made women fall for him. He should be paired with an elegant, accomplished young lady—not with her, a penniless Cinderella.

Yet it wasn’t just that she felt unworthy; her family background couldn’t compare to his either. Even though he was technically illegitimate, his social and financial background was astonishing.

She also had such a notorious past. Even if he liked her and wanted to marry her, his parents would probably never agree.

So between them lay a distance as vast as mountains and rivers—they were truly incompatible.

Of course, she admitted to herself that she did have feelings for him. She couldn’t help but like him; no girl could resist a man as mature and steady as he was.

They had had so many interactions before—his composure, his thoughtfulness, the immense sense of security he gave her—all of it had moved her. If she still didn’t have feelings for him, there would be something wrong with her.

Yet she was also rational and clear-headed. She knew that no matter how strong her feelings, this was a love that could never have a proper ending. She couldn’t invest herself in it. One Gerald had been enough; she had no energy to go through that kind of turmoil again.

She kept firmly convincing herself not to be swayed by him. Then he spoke again, calm and unhurried:

"I still say this—how will you know it doesn’t work unless you try?"

Catherine turned to look at him. She knew what he meant—he wanted her to try a relationship with him.

But she still didn’t have the courage.

Finally, she spoke,

"Sorry, I really can’t be in a relationship with you..."

As she said this, she pushed him again, trying to distance herself from the embrace that had held her captive.

The first push succeeded in putting some space between them, but when she tried to push him a second time and rise, a sudden force pressed down on her shoulder. Bert held her there on the bed, and his kiss came down on her again.

His lips pressed hard against hers, both punishing and demanding.

Bert was a little angry, frustrated by her hesitance, by her unwillingness to get close despite the fact that her heart harbored feelings for him.

He was used to doing as he pleased, and he didn’t understand her cautious restraint.

So he was angry, yet couldn’t act otherwise—he could only punish her this way, venting his frustration through the kiss.

When the kiss ended, Bert’s negative emotions had calmed, but his breathing was heavy and ragged, and his dark eyes were filled with an intense, unhidden desire.

He hovered above her, frowning and staring at her, truly tempted to take her then and there.

Yet he knew he couldn’t. If he did, everything between them would be ruined.

In the end, he rose, released her, and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.