Chapter 77
Chapter 77
She slowly rolled up her sleeve, revealing a trail of bruises along her forearm, each blotch a testament to the small stones that had been hurled at her.
The injuries weren’t serious, but at first glance, they looked shockingly severe.
“Take a good look,” Celestine said flatly, pointing to the crescent–shaped bruise at the corner of her eye. “Every mark you can see on me–each one is your doing.”
Chester choked on his words. “You’ve lost your memory. Whatever you’re saying now–I can just ignore it.”
“What if I told you, I haven’t lost my memory at all?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You think the hospital’s diagnosis is fake?”
Celestine let out a bitter laugh.
He had always chosen to believe only what suited him.
Their marriage–what did it mean to him, besides gaining a convenient live–in maid? What else was in it for him?
Chester was stung by her laughter, and the sight of her bruised arm brought a faint pang of guilt.
“I’m… sorry. I didn’t know.” He pulled out a platinum credit card, offering it awkwardly. “No spending limit. Buy yourself whatever you want. Think of it as compensation.”
A genuine apology from Chester was almost unheard of.
Celestine accepted the card with a cool ease. “All right.”
She no longer felt any guilt about using his money. Every cent was his debt to her.
The moment she took the card, Chester realized–something about her had changed for real.
But maybe that was for the best; everything was out in the open now, no more
pretense.
Once she got her memory back, things would return to normal.
“That’s wonderful–Celly isn’t mad anymore! Does this mean you’ll stay tonight?” Joanna chirped, feigning delight as she stepped forward to grab Celestine’s arm.
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Chapter 77
Celestine recolled from her touch, twisting away in disgust.
A beat later, Joanna performed a dramatic tumble, collapsing to the floor out of
nowhere.
“Joanna!” Chester rushed over.
Joanna’s towel slipped, baring a generous swath of creamy shoulder and chest.
Chester didn’t even flinch. He wrapped his arms around her without hesitation.
“Celestine, what are you doing?!” he snapped, glaring at her accusingly.
Celestine flicked the credit card between her fingers, a sly smile curving her lips. “Doing? The security camera in the hallway is still on. If you’ve got a brain, check the footage yourself.”
With that, she swept out of the room.
Joanna, draped across Chester’s chest, glanced up nervously at the spot above the door.
Damn it when did they install a camera there?
Chester was done with Celestine. He focused on Joanna. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
“I’m fine, Chester. I just lost my balance. Please, don’t blame Celly–it wasn’t her fault,” Joanna said, putting on her most pitiful voice.
But this time, Chester didn’t take the bait. “You’re not a child, Joanna. Stop being so
careless.”
A jolt of panic flickered across Joanna’s face.
Why isn’t he defending me? Why isn’t he blaming Celestine?
Something was slipping out of her grasp, and she could feel it.
No. She wouldn’t allow it.
Joanna stretched out one slender, porcelain leg, tracing it along Chester’s tailored pants. “Don’t be mad at me, Chester. I’m in so much pain…”
His eyes darkened, his voice low and rough. “Joanna, don’t.”
But she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself close, her breath hot against his ear. “Chester, you don’t care about me anymore… I’m hurting. Make it better…”
He gripped her waist, meaning to stop her, but Joanna only pressed closer, restless
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and insistent.
Ever since Celestine had left, it had been a long time since he’d had a woman in his
arms.
“Joanna…” His voice was almost a growl.
He was only human.
Joanna’s cheeks flushed. Boldly, she took his earlobe between her lips, her teasing whisper thick with promise: “Chester, I want you.”
“Let’s finish what we started upstairs, okay?”
Chester’s hand tightened at her waist.
“Daddy? Miss Sinclair? What are you doing?”
