Chapter 10 The Kiss Mark

Chelsey sauntered over to the drawer, her fingers grazing the array of ties. She plucked one at random, only to realize it was the very tie she had bought for Trevor.

As she contemplated changing it, Trevor intercepted her, giving her hand a once-over. "I reckon this one looks fine, give it a try."

"This one's a bit tacky, don't you think? It's not your style." Chelsey recoiled, trying to return the tie.

Trevor's grip tightened, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Didn't they say I could pull off anything with panache? I could use a cheap tie as well!"

Chelsey knew that calling him shameless was a battle she didn't want to fight. After all, Trevor had a knack for effortlessly looking dapper in anything he wore.

Trevor made it clear that he intended to use this specific tie, but she just wasn't interested in doing so.

Stuck in a deadlock, Chelsey decided that suffering for a little while was preferable to suffering for a long time. After all the times Trevor had hurt her, she ought to be numb by now. It would not be nice if she made a scene right now.

To her surprise, Trevor didn't insist, allowing her to proceed without further resistance.

As she deftly tied the knot, Chelsey couldn't shake the feeling of being ensnared in Trevor's grasp. She avoided meeting his gaze, focusing intently on the task at hand. "This one is nice."

Trevor snorted. "Your talent for spouting nonsense is really coming along. But this knot? It's not quite cutting it. Do it again!" he demanded, tossing the tie back to her.

Gritting her teeth, Chelsey obliged, but Trevor remained unsatisfied.

Frustration bubbled within her, and she couldn't contain it any longer. "What's your preference, Trevor?"

Trevor took off the tie, his expression darkening.

"What do you want from me, Trevor Morris?" Chelsey demanded, her patience wearing thin.

Trevor's gaze bore into hers, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Couldn't hold back anymore, could you?" he remarked, catching her off guard.

He handed the tie back to her.

"Tie it properly, until I'm satisfied!" he demanded.

Chelsey's fingers tightened around the tie, frustration and confusion swirling within her. Taking a deep breath, she dared to challenge him. "Does Aimee know how skilled you are at charming your way out of anything?"

Trevor's demeanor remained unchanged, his gaze steady. "Hmm, she'll find out soon enough," he replied nonchalantly.

Chelsey experienced yet another wave of heartbreak after hearing that. She turned to go, dropping the tie because she was fed up.

But Trevor grabbed her wrist.

As he leaned in closer, his voice dropped to a low whisper. "Your handwriting, Chelsey. It's quite distinctive. When did you learn?"

Chelsey's heart skipped a beat. He had seen the words she had left in the study. She tensed, her mind racing for a response.

"Did you secretly mimic my handwriting?" Trevor continued, his tone lowering.

Chelsey hesitated, her mind racing for a plausible explanation. "I loved handwriting practice, Trevor. Yours, however, leaves much to be desired."

A smirk tugged at Trevor's lips. "Leaves much to be desired, huh?"

Before she could respond, Trevor made a proposition that caught her off guard. "Since you seem to appreciate it so much, how about I write your wedding invitation?"

The mention of her wedding caught Chelsey off guard; she had never considered marrying someone else. She shook her head, unable to form a coherent response.

Trevor lowered his gaze to close the proximity of Chelsey's face. Still young, she blushed with embarrassment, unable to meet his eyes, her eye sockets red, as if she were on the verge of tears.

But he knew she wouldn't cry; she was as stubborn as a mule.

Trevor's warm breath soon tickled her, and Chelsey was all too familiar with his intentions. He wanted her now.

Perhaps he had been scheming this from the moment she tied his tie.

She quickly raised her elbow against his chest, but he effortlessly caught her hands, pinning her against the dressing mirror and using the tie she had bought to bind them from behind.

"Trevor... Mmm..."

Trevor seized her chin, and a fierce kiss engulfed her.

Chelsey couldn't wriggle free, and despite her attempts with her feet, he easily subdued her. He used his long legs to press against her knees, asserting dominance.

He leaned back a bit, his voice hoarse and low. "Chelsey, don't tell me you don't want this."

"Trevor, you bastard! Go find Aimee!"

Chelsey's face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and anger, a captivating sight.

She had always been dangerously beautiful, leading people into temptation.

Trevor lifted her chin again and kissed her, his tongue leaving hers numb. But she managed to retain her composure.

Knowing he was about to be engaged and that this wasn't right for them, without hesitation, she sank her teeth into him!

Trevor groaned in agony, and seizing the opportunity, Chelsey shoved him aside, stumbling.

The tie wasn't too tight; she struggled to free her hands nonetheless.

Her eyes welled with tears, and her suppressed emotions finally burst forth. "What you're doing, Trevor, you're no better than anyone else!"

Trevor wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth with his thumb. Chelsey resisted him and bit him with all her might!

"Are you likening me to that son of a bitch?" he asked.

Memories of that night flashed before Chelsey's eyes, and she fought to hold back her tears, trembling uncontrollably. "You're all the same!"

Trevor's face darkened, his gaze fixating on the side of Chelsey's neck.

With their struggle, her hair swung to the other side, exposing her slender neck. In addition to the bandaged wound, there was a kiss mark.

He looked like he would blow a fuse any moment.

Chelsey's skin was delicate, and it was easy to leave marks on her body when they were intimate. It often took several days for the marks to fade.

It had been a while since he had touched her, and the kiss mark could only be from that night with Yosef!

"Where else did that jerk touch you that night?"

Chelsey's face lost all color. Trembling, she grabbed a scarf, hurriedly covering the mark.

That night, Yosef hadn't succeeded, but his lips had grazed her neck. No matter how many times she washed it, the kiss mark remained.

Tears streamed down her face, and in a panic, she fled from the bedroom.

Running through the house and ignoring the pain in her foot, she sprinted across the lawn.

The manor grounds were expansive, and the journey to the front gate felt endless. In the darkness, Chelsey's figure resembled a leafy boat adrift at sea, swaying with each step.

A beam of light shone from behind, and the car window rolled down. Killian avoided meeting Chelsey's gaze.

"Miss Howard, Mr. Morris asked me to make sure you get home."

Unable to find a cab nearby, Chelsey didn't protest this time.

Once in the car, Killian handed her a bag without turning around.

"Miss Howard, please tend to the wounds on your legs first."

The car departed from the manor, its red taillights fading into the night along the winding avenue.

Trevor stood by the window, lighting a cigarette as he dialed a number on his phone.

The night wind swept through the window, and his gaze turned icy. "As a doctor, do you know any medicine that can make someone wish they were dead?"

A voice on the other end murmured a response.

"I want him gone!" Trevor extinguished the cigarette against the windowsill, leaving behind a dark stain.

Turning back, he stopped in front of the dressing mirror and then picked up the tie, a fleeting emotion passing through his otherwise indifferent eyes.

Late into the night, Chelsey's phone rang. It was Lyric calling.

"Chelsey, Yosef is dead!"