The CEO's Doll ✔

Chapter 15

Elliot takes off his tie, winding it around his fingers, and unbuttons two buttons, revealing his Adam's apple and distinct collarbones.

I crawl to the edge of the bed and stand up, taking out my phone to make a call.

Elliot quickly pounces on me, snatching the phone from my hand.

I pause for a moment, taking two steps back, and try to speak in a calm voice, "My friend is waiting for me. If he doesn't see me, he'll help me call the police."

Elliot furrows his brow, then smiles, saying, "Your friend, Prof. Enzo?"

"Let him give it a try," Elliot says while looking up at me. His eyes are deep and shining remarkably under the light.

I can't take it anymore; my temples throb painfully.

Meanwhile, Elliot just looks at me without saying a word, giving me goosebumps all over.

"What do you want me to do for you to leave?" I ask, almost begging.

Elliot responds evasively, "I want to see you, hear you, touch you."

I want to plead with him, but I grit my teeth and can't utter a word of mercy. Elliot smirks and walks toward me, taking my hand and placing it on his cheek. His palm feels hot.

I try to pull my hand back, but he tightens his grip and rubs his cheek against it.

"I want to leave," I repeat.

Elliot lowers his voice and soothes me, "Don't leave. You won't leave."

He stares at me for a few more moments, then suddenly lifts me up and presses me onto the bed.

Before I can react, he removes my jacket.

Tears start flowing from my eyes at that moment.

Elliot examines my face and leans down, kissing away the tears on my nose bridge.

I tremble lightly.

Now, his kisses reach my lips. My two lips are repeatedly sucked on, causing me to cry out in pain.

Elliot pauses and kisses the tip of my nose, his voice hoarse as he says, "I just wanted to kiss you. When I see you, I want to kiss you."

Like a patient afflicted with a craving for kisses.

My whole body is trembling. I grasp onto the pure white bedsheets with my hand.

Elliot supports my hips with his strong arms, his eyes filled with suppressed desire, while his mouth earnestly and solemnly confesses, "Don't say I'm bullying you, Macy. I love you. I love you too much."

My tears have run dry.

"Elliot, why are you like this?" I say hoarsely.

Elliot rubs his head against my neck like a large dog and mumbles softly, "I was wrong. I've done many things wrong. Macy, please forgive me."

I push his face away with my hand, once, twice, three times.

But he keeps planting hotter kisses on my neck, again and again.

I can't take it anymore. My head hurts, and I really wish Elliot wouldn't pretend to have such deep feelings.

His kisses are not proof of affection; they are selfish acts, a heart I once gave away only to be trampled upon.

"Elliot," I take a deep breath and pat his shoulder, "Let's make love."

"Huh?"

After a few seconds, he stops and stares at me blankly.

"I said, let's make love," I repeat.

I push him away, sit up, take off my sweater and bra, and then start unzipping my jeans.

Elliot sits on the edge of the bed, watching me with a pleasing smile, "You're so beautiful, Macy, just as beautiful as before."

"Before we proceed, I have a question for you." My hand pauses on the zipper.

"Go ahead."

"How did you find me? Through Prof. Enzo?"

He pauses and says, "I hired a private detective to closely observe his whereabouts in the United States. And then, you appeared."

"Alright," I nod, "Do you know that we were married?"

His face visibly pales.

Time passes by, second by second, as if a century has gone by before he snaps out of it.

"It doesn't matter," a smile creeps onto his lips, "Being married means you're divorced now, right? I don't mind, Macy. We can start over."

Upon hearing his words, a smile also appears on my face.

"What about this?" I laugh as I take off my jeans, exposing the scar across my lower abdomen.

"Do you not mind this either?"

When I gave birth to Oliver, it was a difficult delivery. After two days without progress, the doctor performed a caesarean section on me. This pale scar is the mark left behind by the surgery.

"We have a son, his name is Oliver," I say. "If you don't believe me, send a private detective to Italy to investigate."

Now, the room is so quiet that even the sound of breathing can be heard.

After a long time.

Elliot reaches out his hand, wanting to touch the scar, but hesitates halfway. He turns his pale face to search for cigarettes in the drawer, struggling to light the lighter for a while, but the cigarette won't ignite.

His hand is trembling.

I take a deep breath and smile. "Elliot, not everyone will wait for you in the same place."

"I did love you, but later I was so miserable that I almost died. I won't repeat the same mistakes."

Then, I put on my clothes and without looking back, I walk into the rainy mountain path.