Become the Wife of A CEO

Without expecting such a question from him, she felt her cheeks burning, “How do you know that?”

“I felt it that night.”

Clara froze a moment until she realized he was talking about that wild night when they had almost done it.

She felt her cheeks hot enough to boil eggs. She then took a peep at him and found him staring at her with a half-smile on his face.

Clara’s face reddened even more. Unwilling to be looked down upon by Horace, she clenched her teeth and said, “So what? Looks like you’re very experienced, then tell me, how many times?”

Much to his surprise, Horace was checkmated by the always timid Clara.

Then the lift reached the first floor. Horace then raised his hand nearby his lip and gave an awkward cough, “Here we are. Let’s get on the car.”

With that he wheeled himself out before her.

She hadn’t expected her to take that question serious herself, but she got worked up when she saw his reaction, so she went right after him and said, “You didn’t answer my question. So how many times have you ever done it?”

As unyielding as she had always been, Clara never let go of anything she had determined to find out, so she kept questioning even after they got in the car.

“Come on, tell me. Is it because you have done it so many times that you can’t tell me? Were they with the same woman? Or different ones?

In the car, Horace felt overwhelmed by her. He propped up his forehead with his hand.

He regretted having started the conversation and shot himself in the foot. He had never expected to see that chattering side of her.

But that’s kind of cute.

As he saw Clara bending over his wheelchair and questioning him, with her twinkling eyes and her pouty cheeks, Horace couldn’t help but lowered his head and kissed her on the forehead.

The unexpected kiss caught her off-guard. She felt the warmth on her brow on fire, burning her face. She squared her shoulders and sat back down in her own seat.

Horace was surprised to see her react that much, and burst into laughter, “So this can hush you.”

Clara glared at him but stopped bombarding him with questions.

After all the fooling around with Horace, Clara felt much better from the bad mood she had got with Darren and nodded off with her head leaning on the window.

Seeing that Clara was asleep, Isaac, who had kept quiet in the front seat, finally asked in a lowered voice, “Mr. Kirkland, I got the result of what happened to Mrs. Kirkland two years ago.”

Horace, who was staring at the asleep Clara in profile, turned to him with a cooler face, “You found that man?”

“Yes.”

“Where is he?”

“As you told me to, I have locked him up. What are we gonna do next, Mr. Kirkland? Should we find some guys to beat him up?”

“Beat him?” A cruel sniff flashed across his face. “Oh, he wishes. When Clara’s home, you go there with me.”

With a chillness in his eyes, Isaac said, “Yes, Mr. Kirkland.”

When the car reached the house, Clara woke up and rubbed her eyes. “Clara, you go home first. Have a rest. I’ve got something to do.”

Clara was surprised for a moment but soon nodded. “OK, come back early then.”RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

After getting off the car, she watched the car as it drove away, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was seeing someone, a woman, probably, so late at night.

In the light of what a good kisser he was and how adept at it he showed last time when they almost did it, he must be a womanizer.

Clara felt upset, but she didn’t know why.

She felt shocked at noticing how her moods changed.

What’s was going? She wasn’t supposed to care about whether he was seeing someone else, but why she seemed to do?

Clara raised her hand and placed it on her chest. She suddenly realized that deep down in her heart, something has changed.

Suburb, west of the city.

At a derelict factory, an old man who looked younger than his age was tied to a chair. He seemed to have been tortured to his last gasp, with his eyes drooping. It was not until the door to the warehouse opened did he raise his head.

As he saw the wheelchair coming towards him, the old man froze for a few seconds until he recognized the man and said, struggling, “Mr. Kirkland! Oh, god, it is you, Mr. Kirkland. I have no idea what this is all about. Did I do anything wrong? Would you spare me, please?”

Horace felt a rage of fury boiling inside him as he saw the old man’s wrinkled skin and fat body.

Damn it!

It was such a disgusting man who violated Clara two years ago?

As he pictured Clara under him, Horace felt as if his chest was to explode. Slowly, he wheeled his chair there, lifted his hand up and strangled him!

“Tell me,” Horace said in a voice that was low and chilled to the marrow, “Two years ago, at the Millennium Hotel, did you rape a schoolgirl or not?”

Two years ago?

The panicked old man recollected his memory before he remembered something. Trembling from head to toe, he soon said, “Mr. Kirkland, there was some mistake. The thing that happened two years ago, I didn’t actually get to do it.”

Didn’t get to do it?

Horace paused for a moment before he loosened his grip, “What do you mean?”

The old man, at that moment, literally wetted his pants, so he immediately came clean about what had happened back then.

“Two years ago, there was indeed a man who soliciting such business, saying there was a virgin school girl for me to play with. But then as I got back from my dinner and went to the room to check her out, there came in some men, all in black, and they drove me out right away!”

“Men in black?” Horace slightly squinted his eyes.

“Yes! I have no idea who sent them there, but it seemed that they were in urgent need of a woman. And I guess their boss must have been some powerful man. I was old, I didn’t dare offend them, so I let them take her.

Horace then clenched his fist and looked at him coldly, “Is it true?”

“Of course it is sure! Oh, god, please, I didn’t do anything to that girl! I didn’t even know what she looked like.”

Horace finally let go of his hand under the conviction that he didn’t have the gut to lie to him.

“Take him away,” Horace said impassively, “Go check whether he was telling the truth. Also, ask him who introduced Clara to him.”

“OK,” Isaac took the order immediately, beckoning his men to take him away. Then he turned to Horace and whispered, “It’s great that it wasn’t this disgusting old man who raped Mrs. Kirkland.”

Without any hint of delight on his face, Horace gave him a cold look. “So I should feel happy that she was raped by another man?”