He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 84

The wind howled outside the window.

The rosebushes shuddered wildly in the gale.

A thick, jagged branch pierced through the heart of a blossom.

Petals rained down, scattering across the ground, leaving only a lingering, dark fragrance in the room.

Ottilie lay on her stomach across the bed.

Yorath’s fingers intertwined tightly with hers.

Their palms were slick with sweat, slipping against each other.

He grabbed his discarded tie and bound their hands securely together.

"Tilly, do you like me?"

"Tilly, tell me you broke it off with Mr. Walden."

Ottilie bit down hard on the pillow, refusing to utter a single word.

And so, Yorath became ruthless.

By the second half of the night, Ottilie was saying whatever he wanted to hear.

She didn't beg for mercy anymore.

She simply did exactly as he commanded.

Consider it the cost of her legal fees and her spectacular comeback. She had to ensure he got his money's worth.

As dawn began to break, Ottilie had only one coherent thought left.

Yorath definitely hadn't eaten well over at The Empyrean.

Otherwise, he wouldn't have been starving like this.

Her throat was completely raw. Limping heavily, she made her way into the bathroom.

The moment she sank into the bathtub, she couldn't move another muscle.

At 5:00 AM.

Yorath knocked on the bathroom door. Silence answered him.

He kicked the frosted glass.

The door shattered instantly.

Reaching through the jagged hole, he unlocked it from the inside and strode in, his bare feet crushing the shards of glass.

He found Ottilie asleep, leaning against the edge of the tub.

The corners of her eyes were flushed pink, her lips swollen.

She looked like a delicate, thoroughly ravaged flower—one strong gust of wind would shatter her petals completely.

Opening her eyes, she looked up in mild surprise at Yorath standing over her.

"Yorath, your hand is bleeding."

Yorath glanced down. The shattered glass had sliced his hand in several places.

Ottilie turned her head, actively avoiding his touch.

Yorath let out a low, chilling laugh. "You’re determined to draw a clear line between us."

Ottilie met him with silence.

Yorath whispered, "Do you really think you can?"

His fingers, still resting against her skin, never warmed up. Finally, he pulled his hand away.

Footsteps echoed as he walked away, followed by the heavy click of the door shutting.

From the hallway, she heard him snap, "Soren. Drive to The Empyrean."

His tone was pure, glacial fury.

Ottilie opened her eyes, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling. A few minutes later, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

When she woke up, she felt incredibly refreshed.

Not owing anyone anything really did wonders for one's sleep.

Stepping out of the bedroom, her body ached deeply, forcing her to limp slightly.

Yorath and Jevon were sitting in the living room.

Elian was standing beside Yorath, carefully treating his bandaged hand.

When Ottilie emerged, all three men turned to look at her.

She was wearing a simple white button-down and black trousers, her hair casually pinned up, exposing the elegant sweep of her neck.