Iris Crawford still didn’t know what was happening with Lachlan Wyatt, when he skillfully and effortlessly began to undress Iris.
It wasn’t until Lachlan made his move that Iris realized just how familiar they were with each other, to the point where she automatically cooperated with him even in undressing.
Snapping back to her senses, Iris imdiately grasped the collar that Lachlan had already tugged open, "Wait, you can’t do this, Lachlan—"
The last ti she was not in her right mind, so what about this ti!
She couldn’t let Lachlan continue like this!
But in the midst of their intertwined breaths, Lachlan’s gaze was like the barrel of a gun, and Iris was the prey being aid at.
She seed to be in a daze, surrounded by Lachlan’s fierce aura, becoming a weak and powerless hostage to everything that followed, exposing all her vulnerabilities under Lachlan’s commands, only to be captured by him one by one.
Murderer, murderer, murderer.
Lachlan, you are the murderer of my love.
Driven to tears, Iris was well aware she was no match for Lachlan; even her self-defense skills were learned from him. He had once maneuvered her body, teaching her those lessons one by one—how to guard against people, ghosts, sches, and plots.
If Orion Crawford once protected Iris without a flaw, then after betrayal, Lachlan taught her all the brutal and real truths of the world, sharper than the knife that pierced her body.
And at the sa ti, his breath infiltrated as well.
He knew her too well—her coldness, her selfishness, the way she toyed with people’s hearts, including her cold and beautiful deanor—all taught by Lachlan.
Orion gave Iris all the beauty, while Lachlan dragged her into hell.
He trained her to be so perfectly strong, yet he deliberately plunged her into utter chaos.
Lachlan violently and greedily cornered Iris into a part of the bed, the woman lifted her head, and the usually resolute eyes were forced to tears, "What will it take for you to stop!"
Stop?
Couldn’t stop now.
Lachlan seed blinded by sothing, his eyes clouded to the point of being unreadable, as he leaned down and bit hard on Iris’ shoulder, near her not yet fully healed scar.
It was so beautiful, this scar that looked ugly and twisted to outsiders, yet in his eyes, it was perfect.
Gasping, Lachlan pressed Iris’ hand, firmly yet trembling slowly, lowering his head, "I’m sorry."
Three words, and Iris felt as if her heart had been pierced by him.
The locked door, the engulfed breath, and the slightly lifted curtain by the gentle breeze—as Iris closed her eyes, she found herself utterly despicable. If she couldn’t stop Lachlan now, what grounds did she have to call herself an independent person?
Dante’s description of Lachlan’s mother echoed in her ears, Iris looked directly at Lachlan. If the matter between her and Dante was already a done deal with no better solution at the mont...
Then stay away from , Lachlan.
A clean break.
Taking a deep breath, bracing herself for the pain, Iris said, "Don’t touch !"
"Why?"
Lachlan’s eyes were filled with both pain and joy, "I like you, I want to touch you, Iris—"
But the next words from Iris crushed everything.
She said, "Don’t touch anymore, I’m tainted. I’ve slept with Dante, I’m your sister-in-law, so stop expecting anything in the future."
Cold, a bone-chilling coldness spread up from the base of his spine, as Lachlan desperately tried to ld into Iris’ flesh, but she, on the verge of tears, said, "Don’t beco like your mother!"
Lachlan seed like he was nailed to a cross, his chest soaking with the words that ca out of Iris’ mouth, sharp as weapons.
He went pale, "What do you an?"
His mother, who beca a third party for love, forsaken, thrown into the face of The Royal Family, pitied and scorned by them, even Dante thought nothing of Lachlan’s mother with narrow-minded disdain.
Only Iris, only Iris had spoken up for his mother back then, saying Lachlan’s mother was a winner, even if what she won was infamous.
Behind that infamy, was freedom.
"Why?" Lachlan’s voice was hoarse, as if he had suddenly beco utterly exhausted, "Why say that about her when you spoke up for her so passionately before others, and now use her to attack !"
His original family was Lachlan’s most sensitive weakness.
He had everything, yet seed to have nothing.
He had never been loved and didn’t know what love was.
Iris, if I try to love you, can’t the response be anything but this...
"She beca a mistress, and so will you?"
Iris’ eyes were red, "I am your brother’s fiancée, don’t you get it yet!"
"I’ll marry you!"
When those four words ca out, Lachlan trembled violently.
At that mont, Iris felt as though he was a child.
The force of those four words was akin to the ti when Iris had hysterically begged him, telling him to love her.
Now, the tables had turned, and it turns out love never spares anyone.
Lachlan trembled, "Break off the engagent, I’ll marry you, okay? I’m also a Prince, I’ll return to the Royal Family, I’ll fight for the throne, whatever my brother can give you, I’ll give you too, okay?"
"Are you crazy?"
Iris shook her head, "Your love is too cold, Lachlan, all of it is just manipulation."
Your love is too cold.
That was the first ti he had ever heard words of love related to him from soone, but the term used to describe Lachlan’s love was "cold."
Lachlan’s eyes were red, he raised his arm to cover his eyes, as if to block Iris’ gaze, rubbing forcefully, causing the black beauty lenses to slip out from his eyes. When Lachlan put his hand down, those one black and one blue eyes held an astonishing fragility and a fractured beauty.
He said, "Iris, you’re too cruel, you’ve broken ."
Iris’ fingers were tightly clenched together, "If you hadn’t been so unreasonable, how could I treat you like this?"
"Are you saying I deserve it?"
"Exactly."
Iris Crawford laughed as if she were crying, "What else could it be if not deserved! When I loved you, you were indifferent. Now that I’m going to marry your brother, you co looking for . What do you take for? A toy you play with when you’re happy and discard when you’re not?"
Lachlan Wyatt grit his teeth, seething with anger, "Are you happy staying by my brother’s side? Does The Royal satisfy your vanity?"
"It does!" Iris said, and as if that wasn’t enough, she tore her clothes to look more provocative and showed herself to Lachlan, "Keep going! Isn’t this what you love? I can even compare which one of you brothers is better! Isn’t this what you like about !"
The last word carried a strong sense of self-humiliation, as if the words brought blood to her throat.
Lachlan dared not look at Iris, desperate for what he wanted, using all his own thods.
But he forgot, Iris was a living person.
In the end, Iris stood up, her face pale, eyes red, clutching the wound on her neck, hair disheveled, clothes revealing, "In any case... never say things that could be used against you again. You’re in The Royal, being watched. Doing such things makes everyone in The Royal Family unhappy, so why bother?"
Why use a "sister-in-law" tone to admonish him.
Lachlan’s heart bled, "Iris, you..."
Without another word, Iris changed her clothes right in front of Lachlan, wiped away the tears from her face, and gave Lachlan one last look before slamming the door, "Au revoir."
That was standard French, aning goodbye.
Lachlan wanted to chase after her, but faced with Iris’s red eyes, his body froze.
A door slamming echoed.
Lachlan, goodbye.
This is my last fulfillnt of dignity for you.
Lachlan covered his face, feeling a wrenching spasm in his guts, an overwhelming sense of despair engulfing him, leaving no room for struggle. He emitted a sound akin to an abandoned stray dog, as if the pain went straight to his bones.
Iris, Iris, Iris.
If you were so heartless, why were your tears overflowing when you left!
You didn’t even dare to say goodbye to , resorting to using the French way. How could you bear to leave !
Lachlan tightly grasped his collar, as if trying to seize his trembling pulse.
******
Dante searched for Iris for a while, and she suddenly appeared around the corner. Seeing her in a changed set of clothes, Dante was taken aback, "You..."
Noticing the tear stains not yet dry on her face, Dante lowered his voice, "Did my brother do this?"
"It has nothing to do with him."
Iris wiped away the last tear with her finger.
"Ha, even now you’re speaking up for him."
Dante wore a cold smile, "You’d better cut off all ties with him, so I don’t have to eliminate both of you. I don’t want to draw swords against my own brother; as a sacrifice, you as a woman better have so self-awareness."
Just listen, Lachlan had said it before, The Royal is a ruthless place.
Iris provocatively said to Dante, "Couldn’t make love you, so you resort to threats?"
"You!" Dante raised his hand, but Iris didn’t even blink.
He had never seen Iris’s fragile side.
Had his brother Lachlan seen it?
Trying not to dwell on these vexing thoughts, Dante took a deep breath and pulled Iris over, "Accompany to see Grandmother in the afternoon, and about our marriage arrangent, there are so clauses..."
"I want to add a clause."
Iris suddenly stopped Dante, "Regarding our marriage arrangent, I can marry you, but I have a ti limit."
"When enough ti passes, people will forget about these scandals, and by then you can look for another woman to remarry, and I’ll be free. Isn’t that okay?"
Dante looked at Iris with deep aning, uncertain of her intentions, "What do you an by this?"
"A delaying tactic. I can marry you when the public is focused on the scandal, and over ti, we’ll have ways to let people accept our new lives," Iris said sharply, "You weren’t planning to marry for life, were you?"
Cynthia had ntioned wanting Dante to break free from the bonds of marriage too.
She was a good person.
Dante pondered for a mont, "To be discussed further, but first you have to accompany to see Grandmother."
"Understood."
Iris exhaled and followed Dante, "Lachlan won’t co looking for again. You don’t need to worry about him. Even if he’s back, he has no intention of competing for the throne."
"Your defense of my brother is really irritating ."
Dante’s coldness intensified, "I understand, no need to say more."
It seed soone had been eavesdropping, and that figure turned out to be Evelyn Rowan.
She took out her phone and sent a ssage to soone, who then received it.
Evelyn Rowan: It’s a good thing, let Iris see what it’s like to dig her own grave.
J: Be careful, she’s a woman who plans ahead. Beware of being the praying mantis stalked by the oriole behind.
Evelyn Rowan: Don’t worry. Once you give the information, I’ll act accordingly. In return, you have to help get Lachlan.
J: Haha, you really do love him.
Putting away the phone, Jonas Kingsley’s features grew somber.
He stared at the photograph on his phone, one of Iris that had been taken secretly.
His chest felt sour and itchy, like a little cat scratching at it.
He smirked. Iris, this ga isn’t over yet for ...
"Buy a ticket to The Kingdom of L," Jonas Kingsley instructed with a smile to the person beside him, "I want to personally et my little wildcat."
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