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Every word from Lachlan Wyatt seed to strike the most vulnerable joint of Iris Crawford’s spine. She didn’t know when her clothes had been removed, and he grasped her wrist tightly.

Attempting to jolt Iris awake with pain.

Yet it was this pain that drew Iris closer to the abyss of her mories.

Two years ago... what happened on that night two years ago?

A feeling both familiar and strange, why did it sweep through her whole body?

Iris, with dilated pupils and blank eyes like a lamb to the slaughter, offered her innocence and fragility as a tribute to a fallen god, "Is it you?"

With those three words spoken, Lachlan felt as if a chain he bore suddenly and violently broke.

Shattered completely.

He shifted and interlocked his fingers with hers, pressing her from above, covering her small hand with his palm, forcing his fingers through hers roughly, "Iris, can you see clearly?"

It seed both clear and unclear.

Iris murmured, "...husband?"

Lachlan’s pupils constricted abruptly!

"What did you call ?"

"Husband..."

Perhaps Iris was calling for Jordan Jacobs, but Lachlan didn’t care.

She was calling for him.

"Will you regret it?"

Inside Lachlan’s mind, a volcano seed ready to erupt, the scorching lava about to spill over, consuming both him and Iris.

Lachlan kissed her, lowering his voice to a timbre that would make countless girls’ hearts flutter—a range others would struggle to achieve, yet he could effortlessly enchant with his lowered voice.

Which window did God close for him, after all?

A background with power, a srizingly beautiful face.

A strong, tight physique, even his voice was an irresistible detail for won.

Iris felt her mind clouded like mush, with scenes from two years ago and the present overlapping in her mind, seemingly switching back and forth. She gasped, speaking words even she didn’t understand, "It’s not... don’t harm ... husband..."

Don’t harm .

"I won’t harm you."

Hearing Iris’s words, Lachlan’s eyes darkened as if he had made a firm decision, his other hand exploring her body like a torch igniting a fuse.

What followed was hotter than a hellish inferno.

Lachlan thought he must be insane, he had reminded himself over and over—never to touch Iris.

Because Iris wasn’t soone else, Iris was Skye Lockwood’s sister. Initially, he and Iris had a relationship of mutual exploitation, both agreeing not to beco emotionally involved.

Iris borrowed his strength for revenge, and he used Iris as a shield for Skye.

It shouldn’t have been like this between them.

It shouldn’t.

Lachlan closed his eyes, as if to block out all logic.

If fate had made our tilines intersect once two years ago, if the man from that night was —what would you do, Iris?

Lachlan was always a man who would stop thinking if he couldn’t see beyond it. In this mont, he was overwheld with desire and greed, his eyes turning blood-red, flipping Iris over like she was a toy, shalessly testing her limits.

Aren’t you supposed to be noble and aloof?

Aren’t you supposed to wield beauty as a weapon?

Aren’t you hell-bent on revenge, with nothing to do with ?

"What expression will you have when you see tomorrow after waking up?"

Just thinking about it is exhilarating, Iris.

I can’t wait to see you cry and beg.

I want to be brutal, I want to be unreasonable.

I want to beg for rcy, I want to say sorry to you.

I want to mix together with you in a muddy ss.

To heaven or to hell.

****** When Iris woke up, she felt sore all over.

She opened her eyes blankly, not understanding what she had gone through, but the sore sensations invaded her mind ahead of her reason.

Hiss...

Iris felt like she was falling apart, especially her legs.

She glanced around, the bed was empty.

Where is this?

Upon closer inspection, Iris realized this was her house—the one she used to live in with Lachlan.

This shouldn’t be, she had moved out, and more so, last night, wasn’t she at another house, happily having dinner with Steven Rhodes?

At that mont, Iris’s face went pale. She rubbed her legs, sitting up, her voice trembling, "Steven? Steven?"

It couldn’t be... with Steven Rhodes...

The words from President Lewis echoed in her mind from the Crawford Group’s break room—if you have a problem, co at , don’t go after the intern! He’s so young, what will his future be?

She really wouldn’t have done anything to Steven, right?

Oh God, Iris Crawford, you cursed wretch, you’ve really gone too far, Steven is so young and innocent, how could you do anything to him!

She cursed herself in her heart countless tis, even thinking about how to apologize to Steven, when Iris heard soone enter the room.

The door opened, and Iris was shocked.

The man standing at the door in loungewear, tall and lanky, was Lachlan Wyatt.

In that instant, Iris’s heartbeat seed to pause.

It took her a long ti to find her voice, trembling, "Lachlan?"

"Who were you just calling?"

Lachlan smirked, holding water at the door, "Steven Rhodes?"

Iris clenched her fingers tightly, "Why is it you?"

"Why can’t it be ?"

Lachlan wanted to say it was two years ago too, but feared provoking Iris, so he swallowed the words and said instead, "It’s always been , always will be ."

Always .

Iris’s face turned deathly pale, visibly draining of color, her fingers trembling, "Why did you..."

She was at a loss for words, unable to speak clearly, "Yesterday we..."

"Did it."

Two straightforward words, Lachlan’s voice fell to the ground, nailing Iris’s heart to the cross.

The woman seed paralyzed.

Lachlan stood at the door, looking up at the ceiling, his throat moved up and down, pulling out a sexy and decisive arc before relaxing and placing the water beside Iris’s bed, voice low, "Drink water."

Iris overturned the cup directly, spilling hot water everywhere; fortunately, Lachlan had mixed it with cold water to prevent it from being too hot.

Otherwise, if it were boiling water, it could have blistered his feet.

Lachlan’s voice remained low, standing firmly, "Not drinking?"

"Taking advantage of soone when they’re down."

Iris breathed unevenly, "Lachlan, how could you—"

Before she could finish, her hand was grabbed, Lachlan pinned her to the headboard, easily restraining both her hands and pinning her wrists high above her head.

"How could I?" Lachlan laughed, his brows striking, as if no woman could escape his gaze, Iris included.

"Wanted to do it, so I did." The man’s tone seed to carry mockery, "It’s just that simple."

A few words, as if not regarding Iris as a person.

Held by Lachlan, Iris usually could easily break free from such a tussle; she bit down hard but couldn’t escape!

It was then that Iris realized the absolute power gap between herself and Lachlan, and his usual tolerance of her antics was rely because, in his eyes, it was inconsequential.

Like a master indulging a pet cat scratching away.

Perhaps from the start, she played that role in Lachlan’s eyes.

Complex emotions surged, Iris’s eyes reddened, unable to deceive herself with the reality before her, she could only accept all that had happened.

But she would never yield, so she said with a mocking tone, "Well, you’ve had your wish, haven’t you!"

Lachlan liked when Iris conceded but couldn’t bear her going against him, so the man licked his sharp teeth, looking at her face with a bloodthirsty gaze, "Provoking ?"

"Isn’t this what you wanted?"

With Lachlan’s approach, Iris slightly lifted her face, speaking shakily, yet continued, "You’ve wanted to do this for a long ti, right? Because in this process, you can assert your superiority and power over , step all over ..."

Before she could finish, Lachlan chuckled, his laughter hoarse, "Indeed, have you found out?"

Iris’s voice abruptly stopped!

Lachlan leaned closer, his features bloodied and murderous as if easily confusing love with desire and aggression, upon seeing Iris his beastly nature would be ignited; the man excitedly inhaled as he spoke, "If I’d known your taste was so good, I should have acted on you earlier."

With a snap, Iris took advantage of his distraction and withdrew her hand, slapping it across Lachlan’s face!

Having just awakened and with a hangover from last night, her hitting wasn’t strong, yet the sting was less than the stimulation it provided Lachlan, who took a deep breath, accepting the slap from Iris.

Seizing Iris’s hand, the man even offered the other side of his face, "Want to hit again?"

"Lachlan, you’re simply inhuman..."

"I think I took pretty good care of you." Lachlan licked his lips, "The kind of pleasure Steven Rhodes couldn’t give you."

"Don’t say such bastardly things again!"

Iris raised her hand again, but Lachlan firmly grasped it; her gesture far from relieving anger, but now she couldn’t possibly resist Lachlan.

Before her words could fall, the man already pressed down once more, speaking absent-mindedly, "I feel like quite the fool, enduring two years without action, Iris, you should thank , knowing this dog of mine has been drooling over you so long and still tempting and provoking , weren’t you certain I wouldn’t do anything to you?"

With every word, Iris’s face grew paler, "We agreed..."

"I changed my mind."

Lachlan’s expression suddenly chilled, his voice followed suit, "If sooner or later Steven or Dane Rivers will get to you, I might as well get there first."

Treating her as what, an object?

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