Chapter 1365 - 1361: I’m Interested in You Again
Half a year later, upon returning to the Fulham Fortune’s private villa, Chloe Winston was more silent than ever before.
Whether it was signing an additional property agreement or using the annual sponsorship for the welfare institution as a pretext, Chloe knew that Constantine Stewart was determined to see her.
Whatever Constantine Stewart wanted to do, he would go to great lengths to accomplish it.
The private mansion on Fulham Road was quite old, located in the central area of the road, surrounded by protected historic buildings, dating back to the Republic District era. The house covered a vast area and had been vacant for some years until Constantine returned to the country and renovated it, spending over a billion just to maintain its original look.
Constantine was particularly fond of this private estate and had not acquired other properties. However, that was six months ago; perhaps during this half year, the man had bought many properties for Laura London.
Chloe’s gaze was slightly cold as she let out a mocking smile.
The butler came to open the door and was taken aback to see Chloe, then smiled and said, "Miss Winston, Mr. Stewart is on the second floor."
Chloe nodded, going up to the second floor, stepping on the black-and-white geometric patterned carpet. The villa’s architectural style was a purely 19th-century European building, large and spacious. When she first moved in, she was often frightened awake by the excessively quiet environment, especially at night. She didn’t dare to look at the paintings in the corridor, always feeling there was a ghost living in the dark corners of the villa. Later, when they got married, as long as she was at home, she heavily relied on Constantine Stewart at night; only with him there could she sleep peacefully.
Chloe’s gaze slid past the paintings on the wall, and she spat, thankfully she no longer lived here.
Chloe searched from the study, turning on all the corridor lights, and then found Constantine on the open-air balcony.
The man was smoking, with several cigarette butts in the ashtray and a half-drunk bottle of red wine carelessly placed by his feet. His tall figure was half-leaning on a lounge chair, legs crossed in a pose that was unspeakably sexy and roguish.
"You wanted to see me? I thought we made things very clear last time," Chloe said indifferently.
Constantine slightly turned his face, his slender fingers still holding a cigarette butt. His deep gaze swept over her, looking her up and down once before lazily saying, "We made it clear, but didn’t do it to completion. You slapped me twice."
The man’s gaze was somewhat brazen, lingering on the beautiful curve of her chest without moving away.
Chloe had long seen him behave even more shamelessly. Hearing this, she wasn’t angry. Everyone was an adult, and during those years, Constantine had taught her many things, one of which was that men were creatures driven by their lower halves. As long as they felt good in bed, they’d give you their lives.
She had seen him ensnared by lust in bed, appearing completely different from his dignified daytime persona.
"You want to sleep with women, don’t you have Laura London?" Chloe coldly mocked, and at the mention of that name, her chest felt slightly tight. She thought she probably had become sexually indifferent, even repulsed by such a sexual life.
"You are you, she is she," Constantine furrowed his dashing brows, tapping on the small coffee table by the lounge chair, signaling her to come over.
The coffee table and chairs on the second-floor balcony, as well as the chair the man was currently reclining on, were all bought by Chloe. She used to love lying on the open-air balcony, sunbathing or reading novels, indulging in delightful desserts, and sipping on refreshing fruit tea.
Chloe walked over, sat across from him, and calmly said, "I’ve said it before, I can’t handle your touch, but you can try."
Her gaze was clear and earnest, her small face dazzlingly white under the dim balcony lights, a sickly white, with the curve of her neck and collarbone being so thin it was alarming.
Constantine’s gaze deepened a bit, his lips curling into a slightly cold smile. He stubbed out the cigarette in his hand, stood up, his tall figure looming over her, grasping her slender neck, a hot and dry kiss fell.
He kissed with force, his body becoming feverish and aching. Seeing her in a little leather jacket made him want to press her beneath him, to have her fiercely. He had always liked little lollies that were tender and soft, and over the years he had always dressed her up as a cute little lolly, but with her slim waist and long legs, it turned out a different style was even more lethal.
While kissing her, touching her soft and incredible body, as his desire peaked, the person in his arms trembled like a sieve. Chloe pushed him away, half-kneeling on the ground, retching painfully, wanting to vomit but unable to, the places he’d touched feeling like they’d been struck by lightning.
She retched until her vision blurred, being hauled up by the man.
Constantine, his face ashen, picked up the red wine on the table and poured her a glass, watching as she was choked by the wine, her small face flushed slightly. The alcohol calmed her nerves a bit, she pushed him away, her voice hoarse without any emotion: "Why don’t you slap me twice, sleeping with me is not going to happen, it would be fatal."
The man deeply watched her, the wine glass in his hand crushed due to the strength of his grip, with dark red blood dripping down.
The cool night breeze blew, Constantine’s fervent body felt a slight chill, clearing his mind a bit, coldly saying: "If you’re sick, get treated. What you owe me will ultimately be paid back to me."
"I don’t want treatment," Chloe sneered, seeing his eyes filled with a crimson hue, clearly moments ago aroused, genuinely desiring her. Her long-suppressed and somewhat humble heart suddenly filled with a sense of gratification. How nice, when she had been completely compliant to him before, he hadn’t cared, and now wanting to sleep with him, neither her mind nor body could tolerate him.
This condition of hers couldn’t be better.
"Constantine Stewart, do you know why my body reacts so dramatically?" She slightly smiled, revealing two adorable dimples, her gaze brightly watching the elegantly handsome man, saying with a smile, "Because you’re too filthy, you make me feel disgusted."
Constantine fiercely hurled the shattered wine glass aside, his bleeding hand seizing her pointed chin tightly, his expression unreadable, emphasizing each word: "That’s a pity then, you’re probably going to feel disgusted every day. Chloe, if this is your strategy of provoking desire through detachment, congratulations, you succeeded, I’m interested in you again."
The man, as neat and graceful as jade, displayed a slightly bloody smile, placing a kiss on her soft lips, gently saying: "Go back and have some fun, the real nauseating days are still ahead."
Chloe, stimulated by the iron-like taste of blood, felt a surge of nausea in her stomach, looking at Constantine in disbelief. A lunatic, he was a complete lunatic.
Chloe pushed him away, wiped the blood off her chin, and coldly cursed: "Pervert, lunatic, maniac."
After cursing, she turned and walked away without looking back, running down the stairs and out of the villa.
The man watched her run away like a fledgling swallow, his gaze growing even deeper, feeling the lingering scent of her on his fingertips. No wonder he hadn’t gotten tired of her after three years and still wanted more; the girl he raised, regardless of her appearance or figure, matched his preferences, even her vibrant personality made him want to possess her.
How come he never realized this before?