Chapter 2
Everything happened so forcefully and suddenly that Willow couldn't fight back.
As her resistance crumbled, a vengeful thought sparked in her mind: if her husband could cheat on their wedding night, why couldn't she?
She stopped fighting and wrapped her arms around the stranger's neck, surrendering to his dominating kisses and caresses.
When he entered her, waves of pleasure radiated from her very core, leaving her mind blissfully blank.
The man had an incredible physique—powerful and relentless.
In his haze, he instinctively lowered his head to her breasts, teasing and tasting while maintaining his rhythm.
Willow couldn't resist. Her moans escaped unbidden as she surrendered completely...
After two climaxes, she felt him suddenly accelerate, clearly approaching his own release. Fear finally broke through her pleasure.
"No—not inside..." she pleaded.
But it was too late. He held her tightly and released with a primal growl before his large frame collapsed beside her, immediately falling into deep sleep.
Willow lay there, tears streaming down her face. When strength returned to her limbs, she forced herself to calm down, gathered her scattered clothes, and silently slipped away.
The man had either been drunk or drugged—he wouldn't remember her face.
As for Charles—he was probably still in Rachel's bed. No one but her would ever know what happened tonight.
She consoled herself: Charles had cheated willingly, while she had been taken advantage of. Compared to him, she was practically blameless.
As she opened the door to leave, Willow glanced back one last time. Hallway light spilled through the doorway, illuminating the man's stern features in sleep.
Her eyes widened in shock and regret. Of all people, why him?
Sterling Lancaster! Her new husband's uncle and the current head of the Lancaster family!
Rumor had it Sterling was naturally aloof, distant from his relatives. Despite her eight-year relationship with Charles, she'd only met Sterling yesterday for the first time.
If it had been anyone else, she could have lived with it. But it had to be a Lancaster—and the most untouchable Lancaster at that.
As Charles's wife, she would inevitably have to interact with him in the future. How was she supposed to do it?
With a complicated heart, Willow quietly closed the door and exhaled deeply. At least Sterling wouldn't remember her.
She hurried back to her room, completely unaware of the hateful eyes watching her from the shadows.
After she disappeared, a woman emerged from the darkness and slipped a torn piece of fabric through Sterling's door.
As Willow had guessed, Charles hadn't returned yet. The room was empty.
She sighed with relief before wearily making her way to the bathroom to wash away all traces of what had happened.
After changing into fresh clothes, she sat quietly at the bedside, waiting for Charles's return.
"Babe..." Charles tiptoed in, spotting her sitting at the edge of the bed. A flash of guilt crossed his eyes. "It's still early. Why aren't you sleeping?"
The sight of him, perfectly put together, overlapped with the images of what she'd witnessed earlier.
Willow looked away, suppressing her disgust. "Where did you go?"
Charles sat beside her, smelling freshly showered. "Couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk. What's wrong? Did you miss me beside you?"
As he looked at the woman he'd cherished for eight years, desire flickered in his eyes again. "It's still early. We didn't get to make love last night since you fell asleep. Maybe we could..."
As he spoke, Charles reached to pull her into his arms.
Rachel might have satisfied his physical needs, but she wasn't Willow. He'd waited for their wedding night for so long. Only the woman before him could fill the emptiness in his heart.
But his outstretched arms caught nothing but air.
Charles frowned. "Willow, what's going on? Since yesterday, you've been avoiding my touch."
His voice softened with hurt. "Didn't we promise to give ourselves to each other after marriage?"
Hearing these words now made Willow's stomach turn. On their wedding night, he'd just climbed out of another woman's bed, yet had the audacity to touch her.
She didn't reveal her feelings, simply stating, "I'm hungry."
Charles still looked displeased, but guilt won out. He knew she'd been busy with the wedding and probably hadn't eaten properly.
His expression softened with concern. "I'll get you something to eat."
With that, he left the room.
Alone, Willow's body trembled uncontrollably. She'd only wanted to see if Charles would show any guilt after what he'd done.
Instead, he showed no remorse—just shameless entitlement! He even wanted to touch her with the same hands that had touched another woman!
The memory of the shy boy who once blushed when asking permission to hold her hand was gone forever.
Soon after, Charles returned with a plate of fried eggs and a glass of warm milk. "The staff isn't up yet. I didn't want to keep you waiting, so I made something simple to tide you over."
The eggs were shaped into a heart using a mold, with a sad face drawn in ketchup—Charles's signature move.
"I was too excited yesterday and didn't consider how tired you were. I'm sorry, babe." Charles reached for her hand.
Willow shifted the plate, subtly avoiding his touch. Charles sighed, assuming she was still upset about his thoughtlessness the previous night.
"You can be as moody as you want when it's just us, but please don't act this way at the family lunch today," he reminded her earnestly. "It's our first day as newlyweds—we need to make a good impression on the elders."
Willow sipped her milk without responding. Thinking about the Lancaster family's haughty elders only increased her sense of irony.
As dawn broke, a car pulled up smoothly at the mansion's entrance.
Sterling emerged from the villa as his assistant, Blake Bailey, respectfully opened the car door. "Mr. Lancaster."
As Sterling sat down, Blake noticed marks on his collar. His pupils dilated in shock.
Sterling's eyes were dark and unreadable. After a moment, he handed Blake a torn piece of fabric from a sleeve. "Find her."
Blake understood immediately and agreed without hesitation.
Near noon, Charles escorted Willow downstairs toward the main house for the family lunch.
Throughout the journey, she remained distracted while Charles assumed she was merely nervous and kept reassuring her.
As they reached the main entrance, they encountered a man stepping out of a car.
First came polished leather shoes, then long legs in tailored pants, and finally, the face that made Willow's heart race with fear.
Sterling looked as though he'd just left a high-stakes negotiation—complete with suit and tie, his stern face slightly somber, naturally exuding the aura of someone accustomed to power.
Willow accidentally met his emotionless eyes and felt her heart tighten.
"Uncle Sterling," Charles greeted respectfully, gently squeezing Willow's hand to prompt her to do the same.
Willow's mind went momentarily blank. Though she'd prepared herself for this encounter, she hadn't expected it to happen so soon.
She lowered her head slightly, feeling Sterling's cold gaze settle on her.
What should she do? Would he recognize her?
