"Sis," as soon as Olivia Zane entered Titus Zane’s room, she affectionately called out to him.
Looking at Olivia Zane’s affable and harmless appearance, Titus Zane merely glanced at her indifferently, his expression bland.
In the past, Olivia Zane had intentionally provoked Nathan Moore’s hatred for her, but every time Nathan would only pin her down on the bed and take her fiercely, never harming her body.
But last night, just because of Olivia’s word "cripple," now she herself had become disabled.
The dislocation of the hip bone causing damage to the periosteum, she was warned by the doctor before he left that she must be careful not to run, jump, or make large movements, otherwise, it would be easy to cause the hip bone to slip again.
At that moment, Titus Zane was grateful that he was just an ordinary person and not a dancer performing on stage.
"What? Did Nathan hit you?" Ignoring Titus Zane’s coldness and seeing the gauze adhered to his temple, Olivia Zane asked with raised eyebrows. Her expression didn’t show the slightest worry or heartache, but rather a clear schadenfreude.
"Are you happy, as you wished?" Titus Zane counter-asked, his cool gaze devoid of other emotions.
"Sis, what are you talking about? We’re sisters; how could I be happy?" Though she said so, the triumph on Olivia Zane’s face grew even more pronounced.
Titus Zane couldn’t stand her pretense, obviously loathing her, yet pretending to have such deep sisterly love.
"Olivia, with Nathan Moore not around, you needn’t keep up your facade, it’s tiring," Titus Zane said coldly, mercilessly stripping away Olivia Zane’s hypocrisy.
Olivia Zane gave up pretense and openly admitted.
"That’s right, I came to enjoy the show, to see how Nathan treats someone who has harmed me and left me unable to move," Olivia Zane said, clicking her tongue exaggeratedly, "Tsk tsk, it seems Nathan truly adores me. I heard your legs are immobile too?"
Olivia Zane asked, then without waiting for Titus Zane to say anything, she shook her head and sighed continuously, "So pitiable, I mean, Nathan, how could you lay a hand on such a beautiful woman? They say a day as husband and wife brings a hundred days of grace, sis," Olivia said with false tenderness.
"If I’m not mistaken, you’ve warmed Nathan’s bed for the better part of half a year, how is it he doesn’t show you a shred of pity?"
It had to be admitted, Olivia Zane knew precisely where Titus Zane’s pain lay, being treated by her own brother-in-law as nothing more than a tool to warm his bed.
For Titus Zane, this had always been the ultimate shame.
And the tragedy was, she couldn’t fight back.
Watching Olivia Zane’s smugness, Titus Zane’s cool gaze betrayed no excess of emotion, like a silent sea that stirs no ripples, but his words were like fine needles, densely pricking at Olivia Zane’s heart.
"Olivia Zane, there’s no need to act generous in front of me, if I’m not mistaken, every time I make love with Nathan Moore must be torture for you, right?"
Titus Zane cut to the quick, then tilted his head to examine Olivia Zane’s face, "concernedly" asked.
"Oh my, such severe dark circles, did you not sleep well last night? It’s my fault as your elder sister, knowing you’re a light sleeper, yet I cried out so loudly. But next time, I’ll be more considerate, trying my best not to let you hear my cries in bed."
"You!" Olivia Zane’s hand clenched tightly onto the armrests of her wheelchair, her small face contorting with emotion as it took her a long time to spit out, "Titus Zane, you shameless thing! Only people who are in love call it making love, and at best, you’re just a tool to warm his bed, a Sex Slave!"
The last few words were almost roared out by Olivia Zane, clearly agitated by Titus Zane’s provocation.
Being insulted as a Sex Slave by her own younger sister did not anger Titus Zane; instead, the corners of her lips curled up in a faint arc of cold amusement.
"Is that so?" Titus Zane countered, her eyebrows slightly raised, "Have you not heard a certain saying?"
"What saying?" Olivia Zane responded reflexively, her hands clutching the wheelchair armrests unconsciously tightening.
Titus Zane laughed, a woman who usually seemed too ethereal to be part of the mortal world smiled now. The smile on the corners of her lips was like peach blossoms blooming in March, strikingly bright.
When Nathan Moore stood at the bedroom door, what he saw was Titus Zane smiling lightly. His dark eyes tightened, something fleeting crossed his heart, so fast that even he failed to catch it.
Then he heard Titus Zane continue, "Make love, make love—if you do it often enough, you’ll fall in love without even realizing it."
As Titus Zane watched Olivia Zane’s complexion turn even paler at his words, the amusement in his smile deepened, "Perhaps, your man has already fallen for me, who knows..."
Before Titus Zane could finish speaking, his smile lingered on his lips. Seeing the man standing at the bedroom doorway, his usually cool eyes displayed a rare awkwardness... embarrassment.