C9 You Bullied Me!
After the party ended, neither the Mo family nor the An family dared to cause any more trouble. This wasn't a place where they could act out freely, and the punishment Yem Mohan had given them tonight was enough to keep them at bay.
Back at the villa, everything was quiet. The sound of the wind rustling through the trees outside was crystal clear. Mo Ya lingered in the bathroom, wrapped in a thick robe, reluctant to step out. She was afraid to face Yem Mohan, who was waiting for her outside. The fear and painful memories of past experiences kept her from taking even a single step forward.
"Come out within a minute, or else... you know what will happen," came the cold voice from outside the door. Mo Ya shivered involuntarily. She knew she couldn't defy Yem Mohan, but she was genuinely terrified, her fear reaching its peak. Despite this, she knew there was no escaping tonight.
Reluctantly, she left the bathroom. The man waiting for her leaned against the doorframe, wearing only a towel. His skin was tanned, marked with old scars, and his muscular build was impressive, each ab muscle perfectly defined. Setting aside his domineering presence, he was undeniably handsome, a truly exceptional man.
He was one of the world's most eligible bachelors, and even with a fiancée, many women still flocked to him. In a way, she considered herself lucky to have encountered him. Mo Ya couldn't help but swallow nervously. That small gulp prompted Yem Mohan to stride forward, scoop her up, and toss her onto the bed.
He showed no tenderness, not considering that Mo Ya might get hurt or whether she could handle it. He held her firmly in his arms, preventing her from moving. His domineering nature was on full display.
Mo Ya was overwhelmed by Yem Mohan's aggressive approach, her heart gripped by fear.
The man, filled with both fear and determination, suddenly seemed ready to conquer and claim his prize. Her left hand was pinned down, leaving only her right hand with some freedom of movement. She reached out and began to tap incessantly on his back. Yet, to him, her actions felt like nothing more than a gentle tickle, utterly ineffective.
No matter how much Mo Ya struggled, it seemed to have no impact. That was until her right hand, in its frantic flailing, brushed against a scar near his spine. She froze, her struggle abruptly halted. In an instant, Mo Ya snapped out of her chaotic thoughts, left only with shock and disbelief.
How could this be possible? The scar, a distinct indentation, was identical to the one she had felt during her only intimate encounter, when she was taken advantage of by a man whose face she never saw. The familiarity of that scar was undeniable.
Who exactly was this man? Why did he, of all people, appear just when she had been abandoned? How could he know her so well, despite them never having met before? Was this all part of some plan he had orchestrated? Who was he, really?
"Is it you? Were you the man who took advantage of me that day?" she demanded.
The man, who had been on the verge of making his move, paused abruptly at her words. He lifted his head from her ear and looked directly at the woman beneath him. In her eyes, filled with confusion, fear, and conflict, he offered a sly smile and spoke softly...
