Marrying the Man in the Dark

Chapter 1138 You're Not Escaping

The car glided to a halt in front of Cherise and Damien's residence. As Cherise embarked from the vehicle, her gaze fell upon Otto

waiting at the doorstep.

"Otto? What are you doing here?" she asked, surprise coloring her tone. Shouldn't he be working at the office with Damien around

this hour? she thought to herself.

"Mr. Lenoir departed from work earlier than usual today," Otto explained, his demeanor grave.

Casting a sympathetic glance at Cherise, he added, "Mr. Lenoir expressed some...dissatisfaction with Mrs. Lenoir's performance

earlier and wishes to discuss the matter further, Mrs. Lenoir."

Cherise's countenance froze, a flicker of panic igniting in her eyes.

In a flash, she recalled Damien's displeased expression from their earlier intimate encounter.

Oh, snap!

His stormy departure that morning was momentarily otten as she went about her day!

With a sharp slap to her forehead, she hastily concocted an excuse. "| just recalled an urgent matter | need to address elsewhere,

so | can't head hthis instance; I'll uhh..."

Her words drifted into silence as she abruptly pivoted on her heel, attempting a swift escape.

"And where exactly do you want to go?"

The words, uttered in a deep, chilling tone, pierced the air, halting Cherise in her tracks.

Sh*t.

Shivers of dread coursed through her veins. With every fiber of her being calling her to run, Cherise fought the urge to break into a

sprint, instead swiftly maneuvering towards the edge of the road.

Taking a look over her shoulders, her eyes caught sight of a tall figure leaning casually against the doorway, his presence imposing

yet eerily tranquil. His gaze pierced her, observing her with keen eyes.

Clad in sleek black trousers, his long legs exuded a sense of effortless grace, the clean lines of his attire underscoring an air of

understated refinement thatmanded attention.

Wearing a smoky-gray sweater, a subtle smirk graced his lips as he addressed her, "So where does Mrs. Lenoir intend to run off

to?" His voice, though calm, carried an undertone of authority.

Pausing for effect, he raised his long, slender fingers to gently rub at his temples. "Hmm... let's consider the options...within

Yatesville, where might Mrs. Lenoir run off to seek a safe haven? Jude's place? Lucy's? Or perhaps, Lennon's?"

Watching Cherise's delicate face falter, Damien's smirk deepened. "What a shame," he said, his tone laced with theatrical mockery.

"There aren't that many places you can hide in Yatesville."

Beads of sweat trickled down her temples.

It appeared that evading him today would be an impossible feat.

Lightly coughing to clear her throat, Cherise attempted to mask her panic with flattery, forcing a smile to her lips. "Escape? Why

would | ever want to do that?"

"I just realized minutes ago that there's a note | accidentally left inside Lucy's bag," she improvised, the lie flowing smoothly from

her lips.

Damien raised an eyebrow, skepticism evident in his gaze. "Hmm... that so?"

Rising with effortless grace, he closed the distance between them, each step deliberate and measured. "Would you liketo join

you in collecting that note you left with Lucy, Darling?" he offered, his voice silky and smooth.

As his figure approached closer, Cherise felt the weight of his gaze bearing down on her, her nervous swallow betraying her

growing unease at the pressure mounting with each passing moment.

Forcing down a strained smile, Cherise quickly declined his offer. "No... there's no need!" she insisted, her voice betraying a hint of

nervousness.

"It's... it's not that urgent anyway. | can grab it from her tomorrow."

"Mhm. Very well," Damien responded, a glimmer of satisfaction dancing in his eyes. "Good girl."

Seeing her abashed expression filled him with a sense of triumph. He grinned as he suggested, "Well, since it can wait, shall let's

return home?"

Cherise hesitated for a moment, then conceded, "...Sure."

e on here," Damien beckoned her over, his hands outstretched.

To others, his appearance might seem strikingly handsome, but to Cherise, at that moment, he resembled nothing less than a devil

incarnate.

But... she didn't have any other choice.

Earlier in the day, she had deliberately used Lucy's phone call to dampen his lustful excitement. If revenge was what he wanted,

perhaps it was the fair thing to give in.

"lI wouldn't dream of enacting any act of vengeance against you," Damien's voice rumbled deeply, a stark contrast to the

tenderness in his touch.

Cherise felt herself pressed against the plush bedding in the dimly lit bedroom, Damien's lips caressing hers with a delicate fervor.

"My darling Mrs. Lenoir," he murmured, his voice laced with anticipation, "I can't wait to pamper you."

His kisses descended upon her, igniting a cascade of sensations that sent shivers racing down her spine.

The drawn curtains enabled the soft afternoon sunlight to filter into the room, casting a warm glow over their intimate encounter.

When the sun fell below the horizon line, the room was engulfed in the gentle glow of a wall lamp, casting a subdued radiance that

enveloped the space in an aura of tranquility.

Throughout the night, the lamp remained alight, its soft illumination a constant presence in the dimness of the room.

When the early hours of the morning arrived, signaling the approach of a new day, the lamp was finally extinguished, plunging the

room into a peaceful darkness.

Drained of energy, Cherise lay amidst the quiet stillness; her vitality depleted like a fish that had been caught in a trap for hours,

succumbing to the ebb and flow of exhaustion.