Chapter 11

Don't touch me," Mike said coldly.

But Vincent stubbornly tried to touch Mike, to stroke his face, his hair, to lift his chin. Mike struggled for a while, but Vincent said, "Don't move, let me see you."

It seemed so affectionate.

Mike felt ridiculous and also found Vincent extremely detestable. Cornered by Vincent, Mike couldn't help but slap him.

"Enough, sir!"

He shouted, barely maintaining his long-held gentlemanly demeanor.

Vincent's face was turned to one side by the slap, his hair falling messily over his face.

No one dared to say a word.

After a moment, Baron Hild stammered, trying to smooth things over.

"Well, Mike, this is..."

But before he could finish, Vincent suddenly raised his head and and punched Mike in the stomach. In just one second, Mike bent down in pain and was thrown onto the sofa by Vincent.

"..your mistake..."

Baron Hild was dumbfounded,finishing his earlier sentence.

The ladies and gentlemen who had been playing and laughing earlier almost tiptoed out of the small parlor. Baron Hild was still somewhat stunned. Vincent glanced at him and said, "Could you please leave?" His voice was very gentle, even with a smile on his face.

But his eyes were cold.

"Of course."

Baron Hild closed the door behind him, leaving only Vincent and Mike in the small parlor. Mike was clutching his stomach, struggling to get up from the sofa, but Vincent was pressing down on him.

"What are you doing, hmm?" Vincent gripped Mike's chin, forcing him to look into his eyes. "You're being quite rude, just like a jealous wife catching her husband cheating."

Mike could hardly breathe under the pressure. "Let go!" he snarled, his face and mouth red with anger.

However, Vincent was intrigued by Mike's trembling body. "I watched how they treated you. Here, here, and here." He kneaded the flesh beneath him forcefully, ignoring Mike's struggles, and turned Mike's face to the side, biting hard on his neck and earlobe.

"Your humiliated appearance is fascinating, like a nun having her skirt torn, like a pope being touched on the thigh." Vincent panted, speaking obscenities with a refined tone. "And yet you can't resist, can you? You always appear so polite and dignified... ha... it's all fake. Tell me, you crave those hot, hard things, don't you?"

Mike struggled with difficulty, but his stomach was still in pain, and he was pinned down, unable to free his hands. "Bastard! Let me go!" he kept growling, his voice tinged with a hint of sobbing because he didn't dare to shout too loudly, afraid of alarming the people in the villa.

"Why resist, my dear sir? Isn't this what you want? To be treated like a plaything... to have your clothes torn... to be entered..."

Vincent roughly pulled at Mike's clothes. He quickly straightened up and flipped Mike over, pressing him onto the sofa. Mike felt a dizzying spin and then his pants were torn off.

"Vincent! What are you doing? No... no..." The older gentleman finally realized the disparity in strength between him and the younger man and couldn't help but beg softly. "Please don't... I beg you..."

But Vincent suddenly let go of him.

"Alright, now you can tell me why you suddenly appeared here."

"I saw the workers... in the woods..." Mike involuntarily raised his voice, then nervously lowered it. "In short, I know everything. You don't need to pretend to be so deeply affectionate anymore!"

"Oh?"

Vincent remained unperturbed. He even sat down in a single chair nearby, crossing his legs, resting his chin on his hand, and looking at Mike with interest. "So what?"

Mike looked at him angrily, but couldn't hide his sadness. "You deceived me, you deceived everyone, and now you want to act like nothing happened?" He clutched his chest as if struggling to bear such a great change. "Mr. Thomas, you owe me an explanation, as a gentleman should."

"An explanation?" Vincent laughed. "Of course, after everything I've done to you, I naturally owe you an explanation."

"What kind of explanation do you want, to be my mistress, pet, or to be the next Duchess?" the young man pressed over again.

Mike was so humiliated he couldn't speak. He glared at Vincent, who slowly stood up and approached him step by step. Mike was forced to the edge of the sofa, raising his hand again, but Vincent was faster. He grabbed Mike's throat before he could move, causing him to lose his strength instantly, and he could only claw futilely at Vincent's hand. In just a few seconds, Mike finally understood that the man before him was not the gentle and affectionate person he had once seemed.

He never really knew him.

This was someone he couldn't handle. Lost in desire, Mike vaguely thought, this is the last time. After this, he never wanted to see this person again, nor did he want to meddle in any more affairs.

The last time.

Mike struggled to lift his hand, using a gesture that seemed almost nostalgic to wipe away Vincent's sweat, only to have it bitten. The young man stared at him, his gaze so intense it was almost vicious, sharp teeth grazing his hand, as if ready to sever the blood vessels at any moment.

Bite.

Like a beast, like a demon, cut my throat, let the blood and air flow out together. The soul has no place to rest, no need to rest, turning into a speck of dust or noise. Nothing exists, nothing matters anymore, push harder, destroy me, shatter me.

Take me to hell.

Mike fell into an endless darkness, with not a dream in sight.