He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 166

Heath was an illegitimate child, a dirty secret kept out of the light.

After Lachlan's mother passed away, Heath's mother, the mistress, was elevated to the status of a wife.

In high society, the true matriarchs despised women who climbed the ranks through affairs, and completely ostracized his mother.

Associating with a mistress-turned-wife meant endorsing the filthy indiscretions of their own husbands. It meant accepting illegitimate children who would eventually fight for their own children's inheritances.

The wealthy heirs were even more calculating. Unless a prominent family had no legitimate heirs and brought an exceptionally capable bastard home to raise, no one gave men like Heath the time of day.

Everyone knew Lachlan was the true heir to the estate.

Speaking a single word to Heath was considered beneath them, a complete waste of breath.

He was entirely shut out of their elite social circles.

Now, being so brutally humiliated by a mere actress, Heath ground his teeth until they audibly popped.

"You really do have guts, Ottilie. Since you're so brave, make sure you don't scream later. Every time you scream, it chips away at that arrogant pride I'm going to break."

With that, he shoved her violently.

Caught off guard, she tumbled hard onto the dirt floor.

She heard his vicious command: "Break her legs."

Once her legs were broken and she was utterly helpless, he would finally do what he had failed to do three years ago.

He was going to take her, no matter what.

She scrambled to her feet, only to be surrounded by four or five men dressed in black, rushing her.

Dark clouds drifted across the sky.

Moonlight spilled through the cracks, illuminating the clearing.

She saw that all the men wore masks, closing in on her in a tight circle.

One of their silhouettes looked hauntingly familiar.

But before she could get a better look, the clouds swallowed the moon again.

She propped herself up on her hands, leaning back in a half-seated posture, looking like a cornered rabbit surrounded by wolves.

Once Lachlan was ruined, Heath would seamlessly inherit the family estate.

Two birds with one stone.

Heath had seen her legs once before.

Three years ago, during the staged fire, Ottilie had mistakenly thought it was part of a scene and willingly let them tie her up.

They had pulled down her pants, exposing a pair of stunning, flawless legs.

High on her inner thigh, there had been a row of distinct teeth marks.

A perfectly neat, faint pink trail.

Left by Yorath.

Both he and Preston Walden had been absolutely mesmerized.

If it hadn't been for her, they never would have realized a woman's bare body could be so breathtakingly beautiful.

It was no wonder Yorath never let her wear revealing clothes. If it were them, they would have locked her up and never let another man lay eyes on her.