Dark Secrets of the Blind Husband novel Chapter 1138

Chapter 1138 You're Not Escaping
The car glided to a halt in front of Cherise and Damien's residence. As Cherise embarked from the vehicle, her gaze fell upon Otto waiting at the doorstep.

"Otto? What are you doing here?" she asked, surprise coloring her tone. Shouldn't he be working at the office with Damien around this hour? she thought to herself.

"Mr. Lenoir departed from work earlier than usual today," Otto explained, his demeanor grave.

Casting a sympathetic glance at Cherise, he added, "Mr. Lenoir expressed some…dissatisfaction with Mrs. Lenoir's performance earlier and wishes to discuss the matter further, Mrs. Lenoir."

Cherise's countenance froze, a flicker of panic igniting in her eyes.

In a flash, she recalled Damien's displeased expression from their earlier intimate encounter.

Oh, snap!

His stormy departure that morning was momentarily forgotten as she went about her day!

With a sharp slap to her forehead, she hastily concocted an excuse. "I just recalled an urgent matter I need to address elsewhere, so I can't head home this instance; I'll uhh..."

Her words drifted into silence as she abruptly pivoted on her heel, attempting a swift escape.

"And where exactly do you want to go?"

The words, uttered in a deep, chilling tone, pierced the air, halting Cherise in her tracks.

Sh*t.

Shivers of dread coursed through her veins. With every fiber of her being calling her to run, Cherise fought the urge to break into a sprint, instead swiftly maneuvering towards the edge of the road.

Taking a look over her shoulders, her eyes caught sight of a tall figure leaning casually against the doorway, his presence imposing yet eerily tranquil. His gaze pierced her, observing her with keen eyes.

Clad in sleek black trousers, his long legs exuded a sense of effortless grace, the clean lines of his attire underscoring an air of understated refinement that commanded attention.

Wearing a smoky-gray sweater, a subtle smirk graced his lips as he addressed her, "So where does Mrs. Lenoir intend to run off to?" His voice, though calm, carried an undertone of authority.

Pausing for effect, he raised his long, slender fingers to gently rub at his temples. "Hmm… let's consider the options…within Yatesville, where might Mrs. Lenoir run off to seek a safe haven? Jude's place? Lucy's? Or perhaps, Lennon's?"

Watching Cherise's delicate face falter, Damien's smirk deepened. "What a shame," he said, his tone laced with theatrical mockery. "There aren't that many places you can hide in Yatesville."

Beads of sweat trickled down her temples.

It appeared that evading him today would be an impossible feat.

But… she didn't have any other choice.

Earlier in the day, she had deliberately used Lucy's phone call to dampen his lustful excitement. If revenge was what he wanted, perhaps it was the fair thing to give in.

"I wouldn't dream of enacting any act of vengeance against you," Damien's voice rumbled deeply, a stark contrast to the tenderness in his touch.

Cherise felt herself pressed against the plush bedding in the dimly lit bedroom, Damien's lips caressing hers with a delicate fervor. "My darling Mrs. Lenoir," he murmured, his voice laced with anticipation, "I can't wait to pamper you."

His kisses descended upon her, igniting a cascade of sensations that sent shivers racing down her spine.

The drawn curtains enabled the soft afternoon sunlight to filter into the room, casting a warm glow over their intimate encounter.

When the sun fell below the horizon line, the room was engulfed in the gentle glow of a wall lamp, casting a subdued radiance that enveloped the space in an aura of tranquility.

Throughout the night, the lamp remained alight, its soft illumination a constant presence in the dimness of the room.

When the early hours of the morning arrived, signaling the approach of a new day, the lamp was finally extinguished, plunging the room into a peaceful darkness.

Drained of energy, Cherise lay amidst the quiet stillness; her vitality depleted like a fish that had been caught in a trap for hours, succumbing to the ebb and flow of exhaustion.