Chapter 9: Come to My Room at Night

Delphine struggled violently as memories from years ago surged into her mind. In that dimly lit storage room, eighteen-year-old Delphine Carter, filled with blazing passion, let down her guard like a moth drawn to the flame, losing herself in the man's handsome and indulgent smile. From that moment, she embarked on a thorn-strewn, rough-edged path.

"Knowing you were coming back, I specifically had the storage room converted into a bedroom. It's the room you're staying in now. That's where I became your first man," Ignatius Leclair's voice was chillingly dark, every word a purposeful strike at her heart.

Delphine bit hard on his thin lips and pushed him away, stumbling backward two steps in a panic.

The laptop she had been holding had already crashed to the ground, its screen black. Her mind was a chaotic mess; countless thoughts screamed within her, urging her to drag him to ruin together. How could someone be so cruel and venomous?

As if he had read her mind, Ignatius wiped the blood from his lips with a cruel sneer, speaking slowly and deliberately, "Think about your mother, your young brother. If my father finds out about all this, I don't need to say it—you know what the consequences will be."

"Wash yourself up and come to my room in a while." The man caressed her face, pale as snow, his gaze as deep and impenetrable as an ancient lagoon. "You're a smart girl."

Ignatius ascended the stairs, elegant and composed.

Delphine collapsed to the ground, her entire body cold, her eyes burning with unbearable pain.

"Miss, what's wrong?" Butler Li stepped out from the guest room and was startled to see Delphine kneeling on the floor.

Delphine shook her head, trembling as she picked up the broken laptop, her eyes lowered as she returned to her room.

Moving numbly into the bathroom, she turned on the cold shower. Standing beneath the icy spray, drenched and shivering, no matter how much she tried to deceive herself, she knew that Ignatius loathed her and her mother. He despised her mother's intrusion into the household—hated how the mistress had climbed her way to his father's side.

Rumor had it that Lady Leclair's death years ago was largely due to the news of her mother giving birth to Little Zhen.

Delphine laughed bitterly at herself. Back then, just a child from the countryside, stepping into the Leclair estate for the first time, she had been looked down upon by all the children of the Leclair Family's three households. Only he treated her so gently, even lowering himself to enter a relationship with her.

Thinking back now, it wasn't even love. He merely smiled at her, helped her. Even her first time was on the storage room floor, treated so lightly and humiliatingly.

Delphine stepped out of the bathroom, mechanically drying her hair. She changed into clean clothes, lit a cigarette, and sat by the window, forcing herself to calm down.

She stood up and looked at the unfamiliar woman in the mirror. Over the years, she had seldom looked at herself, but she knew she had grown more beautiful.

She knew Ignatius wouldn't let her off easily. She had known this before returning to South Asia.

Ignatius's bedroom was on the top floor of the Leclair estate, occupying the entire level. When Delphine padded barefoot on the carpet up the stairs, it was already past 11 at night.

The door was ajar, not fully closed.

She pushed the door open and entered. The expansive bedroom was dimly lit, the man seated by the floor-to-ceiling window draped in a bath towel, sipping red wine like a beast lying in wait.

Without turning, Ignatius spoke in a low voice, "Come here."

She walked over, knelt on the dark-colored carpet, retracted all her edges, and lowered her stance. Her voice was hoarse as she said, "As long as you let my mother and Little Zhen go, I'll agree to anything you want."

Ignatius reached out and stroked her soft, damp hair, which carried a faint, natural fragrance. Tilting his head back, he drained the red wine in his glass, then scooped Delphine Carter into his arms.