NOVPUB
Chapter 71 - 71- Done cursing?
The call was from Marc, asking when she would be coming by today. Cynthia glanced back at the man sleeping soundly on the large bed and whispered into the phone,
"Marc, I already told you I'm not going!"
Seeing how things were shaping up with Albert, she had a sinking feeling he intended to linger around her place. If that was the case, she'd have to reluctantly skip her visit to the orphanage. The last thing she wanted was for him to discover that side of her life.
Albert Wilson had been fast asleep, but the moment her phone rang, he woke up instantly. Turning over, he squinted toward the balcony where she stood. Wrapped in the soft morning light, her small silhouette had an inexplicable calming effect on him.
Then, he caught a fragment of her hushed conversation:
"Well... he's here now..."
The person on the other end of the line didn't press further, offering a few words of advice before hanging up. Watching her turn back inside, Albert quickly shut his eyes, feigning sleep.
Cynthia hung up the call and stepped back into the room, only to see that half the blanket covering him had slid to the floor, exposing most of his toned, muscular upper body.
Her cheeks warmed slightly, but she quietly walked over anyway, gingerly grasping the edge of the blanket near his waist to pull it back up.
But just as she did, his previously shut eyes suddenly snapped open, locking onto her with an intense, piercing gaze.
Startled, she froze. Her hand shook, and the blanket slipped from her grasp, falling to the ground completely. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could utter a word, he grabbed her arm and pulled her down onto the bed, her entire body landing squarely on top of his.
"Albert!" she gasped, caught off guard.
Pinned against his firm chest, she felt his deep, rhythmic breathing under her palms. His gaze bore into hers, the corners of his lips curling into a satisfied smirk. "Good morning, Cynthia," he murmured, his voice husky and low.
She struggled frantically, trying to get up. He had finally gotten her into his arms, and how could he let her have her way? His large hand slapped her firm bottom hard, threatening her with a fierce tone:
"If you don't want me to do anything else to you, then be a good girl and let me hold you while you sleep!"
Cynthia was first stunned, then completely furious. She was both embarrassed and angry. How could he do this to her, especially at her age? He actually slapped her on the backside! And then shamelessly threatened her! She lazily...
She reached out her hands and punched at his legs while kicking fiercely. Her mouth opened wide, screaming, "Albert Wilson, why don't you go die? You're shameless, you're a pervert—"
Then came a string of vicious curses. She insulted him with every bad word that came to her mind. When she finally stopped, she was out of breath, gasping for air.
After a while, the strong hand around her waist tightened, and with a sudden spin, she was pressed down beneath him, her arms trapped above her head. His dark eyes gleamed with a smile as he stared at her:
"Done cursing?"
Her pajamas were messy from the struggle, and his gaze shamelessly slipped into the gap, making her face flush with embarrassment. She shouted angrily, "Let me go!"
Though her words were still a shout, her voice had lowered considerably. After her outburst, she realized her own ferocity had been almost like that of an angry streetwoman.
"Done cursing? Then sleep."
He ignored her protest, and without a care, he lay down beside her, pulling her tightly into his arms. With his long arms and legs, he trapped her securely in place.
She realized there was no way to escape, so she just glared at the ceiling, lying completely stiff and too afraid to move. She hadn't slept well that morning and was terribly tired. He made no further moves, and as she stared at the ceiling, she eventually drifted off to sleep.
By noon, she was woken by hunger. Her stomach wasn't well, and if she missed a meal, it would make her feel miserable. She carefully lifted the blanket and got up, intending to go downstairs to make something to eat. Despite the heating in the room, she still felt cold as she got out of bed.
Looking down, she let out a sharp scream. She—she—she wasn't wearing any clothes! She distinctly remembered being fully dressed in lingerie, pajamas, and a cardigan when he had knocked her down!
"What's wrong?"
A lazy voice came from behind, still filled with sleepiness, and a pair of warm hands reached out to encircle her slender waist.
Thinking about her current situation, she instinctively shrank back into the blanket, only to end up right in his arms. She stretched out her finger and poked him hard.
"Did you take off my clothes?"
He blinked lazily, his eyes still heavy with sleep, and a hint of indifference in his voice.
"If you say you sleepwalked and undressed yourself, I wouldn't mind!"
Her finger trembled with anger.
"Why did you take off my clothes?"
"It's uncomfortable sleeping with a bunch of prickly clothes on!"
He said this without a hint of shame or hesitation, while she was about to explode with anger. She glared at him for a while, her chest heaving in fury, before deciding to get up. Her stomach discomfort was growing worse.
"Where are you going?" he asked, grabbing her as though afraid she might run away, his eyes filled with unease.
"I'm going to make something to eat!" She replied harshly, beginning to get dressed.
"I want to eat too!" He also got up from the bed.
She put on her pajamas, stood up, and glared at him.
"Mr. Wilson, you've eaten, slept, and now it's time for you to leave, right?"
Her implied meaning was clear: if you don't leave now, you're being shameless.
But he pushed his shamelessness to the limit.
"Why should I leave? This is my house!"
"Your house?" She was exasperated. This person really...
"Didn't I buy it with my own money?"
He said it so matter-of-factly, and Cynthia was so enraged that she nearly fainted. He was truly shameless. Yes, he paid for it, but the property title was in her name!
Fine, fine! There was no reasoning with someone like this. If he wanted to stay, so be it. She'd leave! Wasn't that possible?
"Fine! If you're not leaving, I'll leave!"
She grit her teeth and threw the words at him, then walked over to the wardrobe and grabbed a few pieces of clothes randomly.
When Albert Wilson saw that she was really angry, he quickly came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her.
"Cynthia, could you let me stay for just a few days? It's freezing outside, and Fredy and the others aren't here. It's so quiet and cold at that house. I don't know how to cook, and I don't have any friends..."
He said it with sincerity, and maybe... a bit of a pitiful tone. Cynthia's trembling body slowly relaxed in his warm embrace. She wasn't a heartless person, after all.
Sighing deeply, she pushed his hands away and turned toward the bedroom door.
"There's nothing at home. I'm going to the supermarket to buy something!"
She had originally planned to mooch off Marc's food for the next few days, but now it seemed she had been stuck with him. There was nothing in her kitchen, so she had no choice but to go grocery shopping.
When she saw that she had finally let her guard down and wasn't rushing him to leave, he smiled and followed her, saying, "Then I'll go too!"
Cynthia didn't even think twice before rejecting him. She didn't want to be seen with him, not to mention, the looks from all the women around would probably be enough to kill her.
