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look so miserable?
Letta was startled when Marco suddenly swung open her door, causing her to turn and face him as he approached.
“Get ready in proper attire because my mother is coming here,” Marco said, leaving Letta to swallow hard. Was Marco asking her to pretend to be a happy newlywed this time, Letta wondered.
“What kind of proper attire should I wear?” Letta asked, causing Marco to glance towards the small bag in the corner of the room. Letta only had a few outfits she had brought from her old apartment, making Marco realize that Letta didn’t know what ‘proper attire’ meant. Marco then called Desi.
“Take her to her old room and ask her to tidy herself up because my parents are coming here,” Marco said before leaving, exiting the small room. Desi looked at Letta.
“It’s okay, you don’t need to help me. Just do your task, I can take care of myself,” Letta said, making Desi nod. Letta left the small room, ignoring the pitying gazes from the servants. She ascended the stairs to her former room. She smiled sadly, understanding what Marco wanted from the role he actually desired for her.
Letta reached out and opened the large room. Some of her clothes were still strewn across the bed. The bouquet from her wedding day still lay on the nightstand. Letta thought, surely Marco never allowed anyone to clean his room since that day. She didn’t know what to do, just walking towards the dressing room to find the attire that Marco deemed appropriate. She chose a black dress, thinking that bright colors would be too conspicuous for her and not suitable for her current state of mind.
Letta gazed at herself in the mirror, for the first time since leaving the hospital. Her skin looked pale, her lips dry, and her cheekbones protruded, indicating her increasing thinness. Her petite frame looked even smaller. Letta could only laugh at herself.Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.
Letta applied a little makeup to hide the pallor on her face before starting to comb her hair, letting her long hair flow down to her back, and then she rose from her seat. As Letta was about to leave the room, Marco once again swung open the door, looking at her as if inspecting her appearance. Letta wasn’t sure if this outfit was up to his standards or not, but when she saw his tense jaw, Letta knew that it fell far from what Marco desired. Especially when Marco quickly approached and grabbed her waist, gripping both sides of Letta’s face, making Letta wince.
“Are you mourning? Are you going to a funeral? Is that how you greet my parents?” Marco asked. Letta shook her head.
“That’s not what I meant, I just like this dress,” Letta replied, wincing with each sentence. But that reason didn’t seem enough for Marco. When Marco turned Letta around and pulled her to look at her reflection in the mirror, Letta saw her pale face and the ill-fitting attire. Letta gave a bad impression to Marco’s parents. At least she should have looked presentable to attract their attention, even though it wouldn’t mean anything to Marco.
After that, Marco easily tore the dress Letta was wearing, making her cling onto it. However, with the strength that Marco possessed, the dress eventually slipped off Letta’s body. Letta wanted to cry and mourn her fate, but she held it back strongly, only able to bite her lower lip tightly. Marco looked at her exposed body, and Letta could only cross her arms over her chest, covering some bruises and red marks that were clearly visible to Marco.
“I’ll choose another outfit,” Letta said as she was about to turn, but Marco immediately grabbed her wrist and dragged her back into the dressing room. Marco pushed Letta towards the glass wardrobe behind her.
“Never bite your lip like that,” Marco growled, getting very close, making the threat sound even clearer to Letta’s ears. Letta could only lower her face, but Marco grabbed her face again and lifted it to return the piercing gaze.
“Can you not look so miserable?” Marco said again, while stroking Letta’s dry and wounded lower lip. The next moment, Letta widened her eyes as Marco kissed her lips forcefully, making the pain even more tangible. Letta could only grip Marco’s shoulders tightly.
She was even powerless to resist as Marco thoroughly indulged in playing with her. Letta felt Marco begin to slip his tongue into her mouth, entwining their tongues, feeling the warmth of his oral cavity and the strong sensation of Marco’s advances. Letta could only close her eyes as Marco bit her lower lip and released it. Marco clearly observed how Letta’s face flushed with the pain she endured.
“Apply some pretty lipstick to your lips. Never show your sadness or anything you go through in this house,” Marco said, then left Letta alone in the dressing room. He then gazed at his reflection in the mirror, as if becoming an utterly useless object, just an outlet for Marco’s anger. Letta didn’t know what they would do in front of his parents, so Marco told her to look presentable. Would Marco treat her like a beloved wife, Letta wondered, eventually returning to choose a dress according to Marco’s wishes and suitable for welcoming his parents.