Chapter 113: Chapter 113: Regret

By the time Victor Morgan let her go, tears were already welling in the corners of Jessie Sterling’s eyes.

Her face was flushed, and her breathing was ragged.

As for her misty-blue pajamas, they were completely wrinkled.

She was still sitting on the bed, not quite back to her senses, when she heard the sound of Victor heading to the bathroom for a shower.

At a time like this, she didn’t need an explanation from Victor. She knew that when he’d gotten up earlier, it wasn’t because he wanted to sleep in a separate bed.

Jessie let out a little whimper and burrowed back into the warm blankets.

’I should cool down,’ she thought. But the bedding was saturated with Victor’s scent. With every breath, she had the illusion that the man was still holding her on his lap, kissing her forcefully.

When Victor emerged from the bathroom, Jessie instantly became very well-behaved.

But because Victor’s body was so warm, she unconsciously rolled into his arms in her sleep.

When Jessie woke up the next morning, she was surprised to find Victor still beside her.

The moment she stirred, Victor noticed.

A large, slightly rough hand caressed the back of her ear twice, causing it to flush red instantly.

Jessie pressed her face against Victor’s chest. “Why aren’t you up yet?” Her voice was a little muffled, tinged with the grogginess of someone not yet fully awake.

Usually by this time, even if he wasn’t going to the office, Victor would be up and exercising. If she had mentioned wanting to eat something from outside for breakfast the night before, he would have gone out to buy it for her.

In the alleyways of Aethelburg, there was no shortage of the lively hustle and bustle of everyday life.

A morning like this, where Victor would sleep in with her until eight or nine, was practically unheard of.

Victor chuckled, his chest vibrating with the sound.

“Are you in a better mood now?” Victor didn’t answer her question, asking one of his own instead.

Jessie mumbled an affirmative “mhm” and nodded.

It wasn’t a big deal to begin with. She just felt that Victor was underestimating her.

Victor suddenly lowered his head, his hot breath fanning across her ear. “Then…”

Before he could finish his sentence, Jessie felt his large hand lift her nightgown to her waist.

The next moment, she couldn’t help but let out a soft moan.

Victor didn’t answer Jessie with words; he showed her the answer with his actions.

By the time Jessie realized what was happening, it was too late for anything.

She had always complained that the northern winters were too cold and dry. Even with the heat on, it was nothing like the tropical islands she visited to escape the cold.

But in this moment, Jessie felt as if she were on a tropical island after all.

Her entire body was enveloped in a scorching heat, covering her in a fine sheen of sweat.

Untouched by the dry northern air, the hair on her forehead became damp, sticking to her cheeks and brow.

It was a little messy, but surprisingly alluring.

There was a clear bite mark on Victor’s shoulder. When they finished, it even looked like it was starting to bleed.

It was the mark Jessie had left on him just moments ago.

Lying in bed, Jessie glanced weakly at Victor’s shoulder.

But even seeing the wound she’d inflicted on his shoulder, she didn’t feel the slightest bit guilty.

Victor had just about worn her out until she was barely breathing. There was already a huge difference in their body sizes, and it was always a bit difficult for her at the beginning.

Having been pampered since childhood, her stamina was poor. When she’d met Victor, he was usually very obedient to her wishes, but once they were in bed, he was like a different person.

No matter if she begged him for mercy or cried, Victor was unmoved. In fact, when the man saw her tears, he would become even more relentless.

’So what if I bit him?’

Victor watched as she shot him a look before huffily turning her head away. The back of her head practically screamed two words—

We’re through!

Today was Christmas, and also the day of the new talent awards at the Comic-Con annual meeting.

It had been late when Jessie got home yesterday. She’d dawdled in the bathroom, and by the time she came out, how could she possibly remember to message Zoe Marx?

When the phone rang and she saw the caller ID, Jessie let out a soft gasp and immediately shot up from her stool in the studio.

Michelia figo was planted in the yard on one side, while on the other, there were many persimmon trees.

It was almost the twelfth lunar month, and the persimmon trees were already laden with bright red persimmons.

Since no one had picked them, the persimmons still hung from the branches, their cheerful red globes a pleasant sight.

Jessie answered the phone, her hand fiddling with a Christmas decoration on the French window. “Mr. Marshall…”

“Why aren’t you at the hotel yet?” Zoe Marx got straight to the point. “Are you stuck in traffic? The awards ceremony is about to start, you know.”

Jessie rubbed her forehead. ’I knew it,’ she thought.

“Um, Mr. Marshall, I don’t think I can make it today,” Jessie said.

Zoe Marx: “Huh? What’s wrong? Is it because of your conflict with Shawn Stuart yesterday? If it’s about him, don’t worry about it. Our editor-in-chief has already given the order that he’s not to attend any events for the next few days, so you won’t run into him.” At this, Zoe Marx couldn’t help but complain, “The character of a lot of male artists is really terrible. I’ve been in this industry for several years, and they’re the ones who cause the most trouble.”

Hearing this, Jessie knew that Zoe Marx wasn’t aware that Shawn Stuart had followed her to the KTV last night and tried to hurt her.

“In that case, could you please pass on my thanks to the editor-in-chief for me?” Jessie said. “But I really can’t make it to the awards ceremony and annual meeting today and tomorrow. Something’s come up at home that I can’t get away from. I’m so sorry.”

“Ah, is that so?” Zoe Marx’s voice sounded disappointed over the phone. “Not even for a little while? I can secretly tell you, your chances of winning an award are really high.”

Jessie once again expressed her regrets and apologies.

“Alright then,” Zoe Marx said, ending the call with a sigh.

“What? Is she still not coming?”

Just as Zoe Marx hung up, she heard the editor-in-chief’s voice beside her.

She turned around, not having time to wonder how the editor-in-chief knew she was on the phone with Jessie. “Yeah,” Zoe Marx nodded. “She said something came up at home, so she can’t attend.”

The editor-in-chief, holding a mug, tapped her fingers against its side. “Then forget it. Let her get some rest. Later, when you mail her the trophy, add an extra cash bonus. Just charge it to the company account.”

Zoe Marx let out a surprised “Huh?”

“A cash bonus? Why give her an extra cash bonus?” Zoe Marx asked.

She was worried that making such an exception for Jessie wouldn’t do her any favors if the other artists on the website found out.

The editor-in-chief raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t been online?”

Zoe Marx shook her head. “Did something happen online?” She had been busy with the venue arrangements all morning and hadn’t had a moment’s rest.

As she said this, Zoe Marx took out her phone.

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