The people seated around the table fell silent.
After dinner, everyone started wandering around the estate. Eleanor Hollis turned her head and furrowed her brows. Why did she always feel like someone was watching her?
She quickly sped up but was suddenly grabbed and had her mouth and nose covered at the corner.
It was Simon Quinn’s wedding today; with so many people around, who could possibly want to harm her?
Yet Eleanor had no time to think before being dragged into a room.
Her consciousness became increasingly blurry, and it wasn’t until she noticed there was another person in the room that she flinched a little.
Nathaniel Quinn lifted his head from the bed, his eyes bloodshot.
He didn’t know who had brought him here, but it felt like he had been drugged. His entire body was limp, and when his mind was full of thoughts of Eleanor Hollis, he suddenly saw her coming in. Was this destiny?
Eleanor lay slumped at the door, not moving. Her body felt strange, gradually heating up.
She saw Nathaniel approach and quickly clutched the doorknob tightly.
"Don’t come any closer!!"
Nathaniel halted, breathing lightly, his gaze flickering with complexity.
The drug had brought him to this room, and just after Eleanor was placed inside as well, the intention of those behind it was clear. He could only think it was the old master who would want him and Eleanor to get back together, so Eleanor wouldn’t cling to his uncle.
"Eleanor, this is all the old master’s doing—you... you can’t resist."
He slowly approached, feeling his grasp on rationality slipping away.
But Eleanor’s eyes were filled with hatred, devoid of any affection. That look made Nathaniel feel uncomfortable, his mouth twisting slightly.
Eleanor croaked, slamming the door desperately.
Nathaniel had always been thinking about Eleanor. Now she was right in front of him, and he was drugged. Even if something happened between them, his uncle would blame the old man and not him.
Thinking this, he moved closer to Eleanor, gripping her chin to kiss her.
But Eleanor was struggling constantly; her palm, hitting the door, had turned bright red.
"Eleanor, we’ve done this before—it’s okay, I love you."
With that, he lifted her up, intending to carry her to the bed.
All strength had left Eleanor. She gritted her teeth, knowing she had definitely been given more than one drug.
Thinking that it might be the old master’s scheme, a chill ran through her heart.
The man truly hated her, enough to use such a method, ensuring she never dared to return to Hugo Quinn’s side.
"Nathaniel, don’t make me hate you."
She softly spoke with closed eyes as she was laid on the bed.
Nathaniel paused his actions, then chuckled faintly.
"I really don’t want you to hate me, but even if I don’t do this, you’d still hate me, Eleanor. If you don’t love me, then hate me—it’ll at least make you remember me."
With that, he began to remove Eleanor’s clothing.
Eleanor’s tears slowly trickled down, lacking the strength even to clench her fists.
Her lips trembled as she struggled, trying to get off the bed.
Nathaniel hugged her from behind, placing his chin on her shoulder.
"You can’t escape; you know whose idea this is. The old man hates you to this extent—won’t you still feel blocked if you’re with my uncle? I’ve told you before, as long as the old man is stopping you, it’s impossible for you two to be together."
Eleanor froze entirely as Nathaniel’s words struck her deeply. Knowing it was all orchestrated by the old master made her loathe everyone in the Quinton Family; she hardly liked any of them anymore.
But even so, she didn’t want anything to happen between her and this man.
Nathaniel’s gaze grew profound as he forcefully pinned her to the bed, his eyes turning crimson.
"Not letting go, you’re mine today."
He lowered his head, biting into her neck.
Eleanor’s nails dug into the skin on his hand, feeling them break into his flesh, yet he remained unfazed.
She looked at the ceiling, speaking slowly. The panic rising like a flood pulled her entirely down, dragging her into an abyss. Nᴇw ɴovel chaptᴇrs are published on 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭•𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚•𝕟𝕖𝕥
Nathaniel saw her dead-hearted demeanor, his body freezing before he slowly got off the bed.
"Do you really hate the thought of anything happening between us? You weren’t before. You love my uncle deeply, don’t you?"
He felt a sharp pain in his heart, as if it might kill him.
Eleanor didn’t speak, her mind buzzing incessantly, until she finally saw Hugo Quinn in the figure before her.
She didn’t know how many drugs she’d been given, and vaguely sensed her perception was distorted.
She cowered, afraid to look at Nathaniel again.
But Nathaniel didn’t notice her anomaly and slowly approached.
Eleanor looked up blankly, seeing Hugo’s face beside her, trembling with fear as her final shred of rationality vanished.
She embraced him tenderly.
Nathaniel froze entirely, then softened his body, realizing this rare tenderness was because she mistook him for her uncle.
He was about to lower his head to kiss her when there was a loud bang on the door.
The door was kicked open fiercely, and many people appeared in the doorway.
The one who kicked the door wasn’t Hugo, but today’s groom, Simon Quinn.
Simon raised his brows upon seeing the scene inside, then slowly broke into a smile.
"Did I interrupt you? Someone said there were people up to no good in this room; curiosity got me, so I brought everyone."
Behind Simon were people from Serenford’s high society, witnessing the scene and whispering amongst themselves.
"Shameless, entangled with Hugo but now sleeping with Nathaniel behind his back."
"What a promiscuous woman; what misfortune has befallen the Quinton Family?"
As Hugo broke through the door, Eleanor’s rationality instantly returned. Seeing herself in Nathaniel’s arms, with her hand actively looped around his neck, her face turned deathly pale, and she slowly pushed him away.
Nathaniel said, softly and reluctantly, realizing the old master’s true intention: to have everyone in high society see Eleanor intertwined with him, leaving her no face to appear beside his uncle again.