Love Me The Way I Did

The soft sound of labored breathing hung in the air. As Margaret Wilcox touched the icy skin of Gideon Compton, she felt a shiver down ber back at once.

She caught her lower lip between her teeth, diverting her gaze to the window to suppress the growing desire within her. Yet, her attention involuntarily drifted back to him, and the light touch of her hand against his solid chest sent another chill through her body.RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

“Gideon, could we… Maybe not tonight?” she ventured, her eyes filled with

ly as she looked in at him.

Gideon paused, his face half-lit in a way that emphasized his striking features, making him look irresistibly attractive. His gaze alone seemed to capture her completely.

He slightly cocked his head, his gray eyes void of any feeling, his face showing utter detachment. He leaned in closer, his voice deliberate and slow. “Margaret, remember, you’ve given yourself to me. You’ve forfeited your right to say no.”

His words cut deep, instantly chilling her to the core.

Margaret stiffened. Before she could react, he drew her in, pinning her hands above her head.

“Wait! There’s something I have to tell you-” She clenched her hands, her eyes determined as she tried to speak up.

“Gideon!” A cry escaped her as she was swept up in a tide of sensation, leaving her quivering, overwhelmed, and lost for words.

Margaret clutched at her abdomen, struggling to regain focus, her thoughts scrambled, finding it hard to articulate.

Eventually, he settled beside her, and she was enveloped by his familiar scent.

Margaret slowly

wly opened her eyes, sweat beading on her forehead. Her vision blurred as she fixed her gaze on him, captivated by his perfect

features

Gideon was undoubtedly the most handsome man she had ever seen. His presence demanded attention wherever he went. As the notorious illegitimate son of the Compton family in Alenvista and one of the heirs to Compton Group, his mysterious charm was irresistible and seemed

unattainable.

Margaret let out a soft sigh, closing her eyes. She caressed her stomach, whispering, “I’ve seen the news

Gideon gave no response, his eyes closed, his face expressionless.

She watched him silently for a few moments before carefully getting up, gathering her clothes from the bed, and quietly said, “You’re getting engaged to Roxanne, aren’t you?”

“You seem to have a lot to say today,” Gideon remarked suddenly, his voice deep and cold, exuding an indifferent aloofness.

Margaret bit her lip, her hands shaking slightly. She glanced down at her stomach, then steadied herself and spoke, “I just needed to clarify where we stand, to see if there’s any point in continuing this.”

Gideon’s brow furrowed slightly as he turned his head away, his eyes still shut. “Unless I say it’s over, it isn’t over.”

She thought, ‘Not over?”

Their relationship had lasted four years, initially driven by necessity. Her father, Kenneth Wilcox’s illness had left her desperate for money for his treatment, leading her into this transactional relationship with Gideon.

But now, she found herself unsure of her feelings towards him. It might have started out of necessity, but perhaps had something shifted

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along the way.

As she mulled over this realization, Margaret’s breathing quickened. She took one more look at Gideon before rising.

“I understand.” She nodded, though as she turned away, her fists clenched tightly, her complexion draining of color.

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She understood her role in this arrangement, a mere transaction from start to finish. She also recognized Gideon’s determination once he set his mind to something, especially given her precarious position.

“The money has been transferred to your account, and the hospital arrangements have been taken care of,” Gideon said, seemingly reluctant to spare an extra word.

“Thank you,” she responded, without turning back, her hand reaching for the doorknob.

“I need the Lambert family,” Gideon added.

Margaret paused, momentarily thinking she might have misheard, and glanced over at Gideon, who had opened his eyes. She oftent wondered if Gideon’s eyes were made of glass-crystal-clear, yet somehow unfathomable, his gaze always distant and cold. But behind that icy gaze, there seemed to be something she couldn’t quite grasp, something fleeting.

She wondered, “Was that an explanation?’ He was the illegitimate son of the Compton family, only officially recognized by them two years ago. Margaret had witnessed the darkness and struggles he endured during that time. Within the Compton family, maintaining a solid position required both strength and restraint.

Margaret felt a surge of indescribable emotions, stirring something within her, making her heart beat a little faster.

“And you owe the Lambert family. It’s best you stay in line, or you’ll have to face the consequences alone.” His next words shattered all of Margaret’s illusions.

She stopped smiling, clenched her fists, then chuckled softly and looked down. “Are you worried I’ll cause trouble?”

Gideon stared at her, saying nothing, but his silence spoke volumes.

Margaret forced a smile, while her heart sank. It turned out that his explanation was only to prevent her from causing trouble. “Don’t worry, my father’s life is in your hands. I… have no right to negotiate, only to obey. That’s what you told me the first time we met four years ago, remember?” she uttered.

Margaret looked up, holding back the tears welling up in her blue eyes. She spared him one last glance before turning around and leaving.

The door closed with a click.

In the dark, Gideon’s breathing quickened, though it was only for a fleeting moment as he swiftly composed himself again. He glanced at the wooden door, then closed his eyes again, his lips pursed together.

Outside the door, Margaret hurried out of the mansion, feeling a chill she had never experienced before. Suppressing the churning sensation in her stomach, she hurried to a tree and violently ‘retched.

The ringing of her phone briefly interrupted her tumultuous thoughts. She wiped her mouth, took a deep breath, then pulled out her phone and answered.

It was a call from the hospital where her father was admitted. “Hello, is this Ms. Wilcox? You need to come to the hospital right away. His condition deteriorated all of a sudden, and we’re resuscitating him. Please take care of the surgical fees and the critical illness notification,”

“What did you say?” Margaret asked, taken aback.

“It’s not looking good for him. Please hurry over,” said the person on the other end.

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At that, Margaret hung up the phone, a wave of fear washing over her. Her face was pallid as she hailed a taxi and headed to the hospital.

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