Actually, I didn't spend three days on it.
By the second day after he returned to the capital, I had made up my mind, and decided.
I knew that I didn't have the power to change everything.
And I couldn't let go of my loved ones.
So death wasn't an option.
But there was at least one thing I could fight for.
When I walked into Eliot's office again,
I felt as if I had entered another world.
In the office, besides him and me, two lawyers were present.
I watched Eliot sign the contract and press his fingerprint on it.
I did the same.
"I told you, the child won't be illegitimate; he'll be my firstborn."
"And he will be a legitimate heir recorded in the Rivertons genealogy."
After the lawyers left, Eliot pulled me into his arms and repeated these two sentences.
I ignored him and carefully put away the contract.
Then, just as he was about to kiss me, I pushed him away.
"Tomorrow night, come over tomorrow night."
My voice was perfectly calm, so calm that Eliot was somewhat surprised.
"Why tomorrow night?"
I smiled slightly, "Because tomorrow night is when I'm ovulating."
If I could get pregnant right away,
I wouldn't have to keep entangling with him.
Eliot's expression gradually turned cold.
But he didn't lose his temper.
Instead, he called Secretary Silverton over to take me back to the villa.
I didn't linger for even a second, turning and leaving immediately.
After taking a few steps out, I faintly heard something shatter inside.
But I didn't stop walking.
Sometimes, I truly despise myself.
Being in this situation, when I was in bed with Eliot,
I still couldn't control my body's natural responses.
But I quickly came to understand.
If I can't resist or prevent it, then I might as well lie down and enjoy it.
If it hurts, I'll bite him, hit him.
If he gets rough, I'll curse at him, kick him.
If it feels good, I'll respond to his kisses.
A man like Eliot, handsome, with a great body, rich and powerful, and incredibly skilled,
is certainly better than a vibrator.
Perhaps sensing that I was distracted,
Eliot's movements suddenly became more forceful.
As my head nearly hit the wall, he reached out in time to stop it.
"Aurelia."
He looked down at me.
I didn't quite understand why, having gotten what he wanted,
he still looked so unsatisfied looking at me.
What was he unsatisfied with?
I found it amusing.
Yet, deep in my abdomen, I felt a dull pain from his actions just now.
Frowning, I lifted my foot to kick him, "You hurt me..."
But Eliot gripped my ankle and pushed it higher.
He slowly lowered himself, staring intently at me.
Until we were completely joined together.
To a depth that was almost unbearable for me.
"Aurelia."
He bowed his head, kissing me forcefully yet roughly.
"Say you love me, Aurelia."
"Like every time before, say you only love me..."
I have said I loved him before.
Every time we were intimately entwined,
every time our emotions ran deep.
Back then, when I was still young and innocent, I often couldn't control my surging feelings.
Again and again, foolishly telling him I loved him.
Even running fearlessly to shield him from that blade in the most dangerous moments.
Actually, until the first time we broke up,
I was still in love with him.
Actually, when we met again,
I hadn't completely forgotten or let go of him.
Growing up, I've never been the type to love and hate recklessly, to pick up and let go easily.
The first man I truly liked would be etched in my memory even more deeply.
But thanks to him, the wounds etched into my bones and flesh now,
haven't healed, but have rotted.
This rotting wound constantly reminds me
that a man's so-called affection and love are the cheapest things in this world.
In the end, I still didn't say those words.
And that last time that night, Eliot ended things halfheartedly.
He got up, washed up, dressed, and left the villa.
