He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 98

Yorath's lips slowly pressed into a thin line, his jaw tightening until the sharp angles of his face looked almost lethal.

He was furious.

Ottilie knew perfectly well she had committed the ultimate taboo for any kept woman.

You could ask a wealthy benefactor for houses, cars, or prime career resources—but you absolutely never asked for status.

Yorath gripped her slender waist, lifting her effortlessly and placing her directly into the bathtub.

The automated tub was already filled to the brim.

Both of them were still fully clothed.

Ottilie ended up straddling him.

The water was scalding hot, the heat feeling almost tangible as it desperately tried to break through their soaked clothes to sear their skin.

Ottilie grabbed the rim of the tub, pulling herself up onto her knees to force some distance between them.

Yorath's arms banded around her waist, his grip bruisingly tight. "Ask for literally anything else."

His breath was burning hot, ghosting across her chest. It felt like a feather brushing against her skin, agonizingly ticklish and overwhelmingly intense.

Ottilie's eyes were dewy from the steam, her lips naturally flushed without a drop of makeup.

She said, "Yorath, to me, you're like a high-premium insurance policy riddled with exclusions. You won't cover this, you won't cover that. You're the one who broke our deal first. I'm not signing that contract. What we had was a one-time thing."

Yorath squeezed her waist so hard the skin turned red. His voice was as commanding as the iron grip of his arms. "You're asking for entirely too much."

Ottilie held his gaze. "From beginning to end, I only have one demand. I don't want to be with you anymore."

In a fraction of a second, the entire bathroom went deathly silent.

Even the scalding water in the tub seemed to turn to ice.

Their eyes locked in a brutal standoff, neither willing to yield a single inch.

Yorath tightened his hold, using brute force to pull her body down against his.

Ottilie didn't struggle. Just before their bodies collided, she whispered, "I don't want you."

Yorath froze, a violent storm of emotion tearing through his eyes.

He kept her pinned, his posture immovable, showing absolutely no intention of backing down.

Ottilie spoke again. "If you want it, I can't physically stop you. But... it's rape."

"Don't push me," Yorath warned.

The moment she stepped out, she repeated Ottilie's exact words, verbatim, to Yorath.

Yorath was sitting in his study, his laptop open.

His face was an unreadable mask; he showed zero reaction.

Yvonne gave a slight bow and retreated.

The laptop was connected to a video call.

Jevon spoke up. "Throwing a fit again?"

Yorath replied, "I gave the role I promised her to someone else. Of course she's throwing a fit."

"What does she want then? Just throw money at it and give it to her."

"She wants to marry me."

The study plunged into total silence.

Several seconds passed before Jevon scoffed. "She really doesn't know her place, does she? Marry you? Is she even remotely worthy?"

Yorath's voice was quiet. "She's not bad."