He Never Loved Me Until the Day I Finally Left Him novel Chapter 569

Outwardly, Carter remained perfectly professional as he pushed the suite doors open.

"Do not let anyone disturb me. And pull the guest list from tonight's gala immediately," Sebastian ordered darkly.

"Yes, sir."

Just as Sebastian strode past him, Carter caught a glimpse of her face.

It was Helena.

All the color drained from his face.

He didn't care about Janetta, but Julian Campbell's wrath was another story entirely.

Whatever his true relationship with her was, she was legally his wife.

Crossing that line gave the Campbell family every right to wage total war.

A jolt of terror ran down his spine.

But the heavy oak doors clicked shut, sealing them inside.

Inside the suite.

Pressed tight against Sebastian's cool body, Helena felt a fraction of her feverish agony subside.

But the drug was potent.

So potent it was stripping away her sanity.

A desperate, primal need for release consumed her.

Driven by instinct, she clung to the nearest source of comfort.

It felt like the only way to extinguish the raging fire in her blood.

"Ugh..." she whimpered softly.

The sound was dangerously sweet and fragile.

His eyes darkened as he stared down at her.

Perhaps it was her bewitching gaze.

Or perhaps it was her breathless vulnerability.

She looked exactly like the desperate, loving girl from his memories.

A tidal wave of suppressed longing crashed over him, stealing the air from his lungs.

He knew she was married to Julian.

He knew they had no business crossing this line.

But he couldn't help himself.

"It hurts!" she moaned, her voice husky and dripping with intoxicating need, entirely stripped of her usual iron-clad composure.

Reason had abandoned her.

Her body was calling the shots now.

She arched into him, lifting her chin to seek his lips.

"Are you impotent or something?" she provoked him, utterly oblivious to the danger she was courting.

But even as she taunted him, a flicker of confusion crossed her mind.

Her brows knitted together in frustration.

Her fading rationality was no match for the raging aphrodisiac.

Ultimately, instinct won.

He was a man.

A red-blooded man.

Faced with such blatant seduction, no man could remain indifferent.

Let alone when the woman was the one who had consumed his thoughts for years.

"Helena, do you know who I am?" he rasped, struggling to hold onto a shred of sanity.

The question made her pause and look up at him.

Her gaze was glassy and unfocused, searching his face.

A glimmer of recognition flashed in her eyes.

"You're..." She genuinely tried to think.

Looking at her dazed, beautiful face, his control slipped further, his body aching with violent tension.