Julius has been very busy lately. Ever since Arabella agreed to marry him, he has been floating on the clouds of excitement.
He conveyed the news to his family, saying he wanted to bring his fiancée home.
His family was elated, almost ready to set off parties in celebration.
Their precious son, who excelled in character, appearance, and knowledge.
But he was always a rather conservative child, and as he grew up, he declared his intention to spread the word of the peace and dedicate his life to the missionary, vowing never to marry. This, of course, drove his parents to despair.
Who would have thought that after training outside for half a year, he would suddenly say he had a girlfriend and wanted to marry her.
Thank goodness!
It was a blessing that he was willing to marry, regardless of the bride's background, as long as she was a woman.
Julius searched everywhere for details about weddings. The proposal had been so hasty that he felt deeply guilty. He meticulously planned a proposal banquet, hoping to give Arabella a beautiful memory
But as the bride-to-be, Arabella was incredibly busy, seemingly always disappearing.
Arabella said that the City was where her family lived, but she had never taken Julius there.
Julius was uneasy, not caring about Arabella's family background, but fearing that her family would look down on him and refuse to marry their daughter to him.
"Arabella, when can I meet your family?" On this rare sunny day, Arabella had come over, and Julius quickly asked about it.
The sun was shining brightly, casting a captivating silhouette of him—broad shoulders, narrow waist, and long legs, exuding a charming masculine allure. Unfortunately, his expression was tense, and even his lips had turned pale.
Family?
Arabella was taken aback; her family was all dead.
However, she couldn't do without a family; there had to be a family to complete this act.
"My parents passed away early; I only have an older brother. I'll take you to meet him in a few days," Arabella replied indifferently, shifting her gaze to the balcony, where her damp clothes—lingerie and undergarments—hung out to dry.
Julius had washed them very clean, and it was hard to imagine how awkward this uptight man must have felt washing women's clothes.
Raising an eyebrow, Arabella asked with a malicious intent, "Did you masturbate while washing my underwear?"
Julius's face flushed red in an instant, and the moral education he had received since childhood made him despise himself for his impure actions for a long time.
However, the overwhelming flood of confused emotions led him to indulge in very explicit fantasies that night.
Men were naturally skilled in sexual matters, and masturbation alone could not bring them pleasure. He held the set of underwear belonging to Arabella and assumed various poses and actions, imagining that Arabella was right beside him, kissing him and moaning in his ear.
There were no further actions to follow; he was a bona fide virgin. Until now, all he'd experienced were hand-holding and kissing, with Arabella being the only one to share those moments.
Arabella would never show mercy, giving him time for self-reflection and shame.
She lay on the bed, extending a hand in a silent invitation: "Come—"
He couldn't go! He couldn't move!
If he did, it would be his undoing—an irreversible descent! If he moved, it would be like his belief crumbling beneath him.
But there was no escape. Arabella was poison and yet sugar—an irresistible lure that pulled him closer, step by step.
With heavy steps, he reached the edge of the bed, only to be swiftly pushed down by her. As she straddled his hips, Julius's heart skipped a beat, and he instinctively shut his eyes, overwhelmed by the torrent of emotions he could no longer control.
Lifting up Julius's shirt, revealing his well-defined and extremely muscular physique, Arabella narrowed her eyes and still found it hard to believe that such a physically strong man could be completely helpless.
Her actions were brazen, pushing the man into a corner.
His desire was washing away reason, and his sexual desire was struggling.
But in the strict and conservative moral code, it was absolutely forbidden for both men and women to have premarital sexual relations.
He reached out to cover himself, but it was all for show. The moment his underwear was pulled down, he felt his swollen penis spring up, practically ready to explode with excitement.
"Let me help you?" The voice in his ear was that of the devil, and Arabella bit down on his large, rolling throat, pushing him further and further beyond his limits.
"No - no, don't. Arabella, Arabella. Uh--" The almost desperate whisper was so intense that when Julius felt his penis being firmly held by Arabella, it was as if Arabella had grasped his very soul, his bones, and everything else about him.
It's a completely different feeling from self-pleasure.
Arabella's eyebrows and eyes were full of malice, as if she didn't care about his own safety and used her hands was not enough, she even used her mouth.
Her mouth sex skills were not particularly skilled or sophisticated, but she had a unique talent: she could expand her throat so that a man could explore her all the way down.
Absolutely deep throat, saliva dripping, pulling out strands of silver, not knowing how much pre-ejaculate has leaked out from the horse eyes.
When Arabella was about to ride on him with his genitals, Julius bit down on his own tongue out of desperation. He was so overwhelmed by desire that only pain could help him regain a little bit of reason.
He pushed Arabella aside, feeling a painful redness and heat in his groin area, with a desire burning like a flame in his eyes, making him restless.
"Arabella, I love you. I want to give you all the best things in life. Let me cherish you, please? Let's save everything for after our wedding, shall we?"
Best things?
Love?
Arabella could no longer maintain her mask of composure; her savage fangs were about to show.
Even Cyrus was not the kind of man who could hide his penis and sexual desire so deeply.
Either one was truly righteous to the point of being pedantic, serene to the point of indifference, or, liked her, harbors a thousand cunning schemes, and countless venomous plots. They each strip away the flesh, engaged in a battle of wits.
Which one, it was really hard to say.
She couldn't find any other identity for Julius besides being the son of the governor. His background was as clean as a sheet of paper, with a simple and smooth life, never stepping out of line.
Probably the most outrageous and decadent thing in his life was meeting her and agreeing to marry her.
*
Before returning to her base, Arabella had another call with Taras.
The shipment had entered the country smoothly, but circulation had become a major issue.
The AE shipment was large in quantity and a new product, making it impossible to mix it into the market circulation.
The few drug dealers from the four countries held limited power, and together, they could not swallow this shipment.
Not circulating means the goods were stuck in their hands.
Taras gradually sold some of the goods but didn't dare to sell too much at once to avoid drawing the police's attention.
How could they attract the police's attention in a short time and quickly distribute the goods in the four countries? Taras was at a loss.
"Um—I'm getting married," Arabella said abruptly, out of context.
Taras was drinking on the phone and choked, bursting into a fit of coughing.
After coughing for a long time, Taras, red-eyed and hoarse, choked out with tears streaming down his face, "You? Getting married? With who?"
Who in the world had the nerve to marry Arabella?
"Julius."
"What? That dolt?" Taras exclaimed in disbelief.
"The son of Governor Pujivang is getting married with me."
Taras immediately understood the meaning behind her words.
"You've been aware that the goods would be difficult to move, haven't you? Did you start planning with that dolt long ago?"
Taras broke out in a cold sweat on the phone.
It was hard for him to imagine just how astute and calculating Arabella truly was; every step, every person, was a piece meticulously placed by her design.
What role would he play in her plan?
A sacrificial pawn? Or the queen who guarded the king?
"Isn't our cooperation friendly?" Taras's brief silence allowed Arabella to glimpse the turmoil in his heart.
She arched her eyebrows, clearly explaining the mutually beneficial relationship.
Taras grunted slightly on the phone.
Neither of them was a pushover.
Fortunately, they were separated by great distances, creating a sense of vague beauty, so neither had to scheme against the other.
Because their goals were different, they didn't interfere with each other.
He understood the logic, but there was still a lingering discomfort in his heart.
He had heard that Ferdinand from Spanka was her close friend and sworn brother to Arabella.
He wondered what kind of brother it was, whether it involved sexual acts on the bed?
If that method made them close, then he and Arabella were also sworn brothers.
Why was Ferdinand so close to her, while he and she were so distant?
"Of course cooperation is good, Master Unknown. Our relationship can become closer."
"Oh—okay. After the matter is settled, we can spend more time in bed together," Arabella said nonchalantly, implying that getting closer meant sleeping together.
Choked and speechless, Taras realized for the first time that the problem with direct communication with a beast was that the beast didn't understand human affairs, and nothing he said would make a difference.
Arabella returned to her base and called Raven, giving him her instructions.
Casually hooking her arm around Raven's neck, Arabella said with a mischievous grin, "Alright. For the next while, you'll be my elder brother."
The word "brother" was emphasized, making Raven feel a bit flustered.
Elder brother?
If he really were her brother, he would have taken off her pants when she was young and spread her slender, white legs apart, licking and teasing her tender little vagina until she was marked all over with his mark, belonging only to him.
Before spreading her wings, she would be confined in his arms, to be played with at will.
After finishing the main business, Arabella remembered someone and, with a sharp and cold look in her eyes, gave an order: "The person AE brought—"
Pausing, Arabella recalled the person's strikingly similar appearance and eyes.
Her young man, once grown, should obediently stay by her side, loyal and without any ulterior motives.
No matter the background or status of the other, once it is in her hands—whether long or short, flat or round, in any form—it is for her to decide.
Raven was startled, thinking that Arabella had taken a liking to Merrick, and his heart sank.
"Every day, add some drug to his food and drink."
The drug, was a mental control drug.
Colorless and tasteless, a white powder with little toxicity, it causes no immediate dizziness or disorientation when ingested. Yet, with prolonged use, it gradually tightens its grip on the mind, slowly eroding one's sanity. Even in small doses, it can lead to a surfeit of hallucinations, ultimately shattering the fragile balance of reason.
Now, Raven didn't understand the meaning behind Arabella's actions.
If she didn't fancy the person, why not just kill them? Why use the drug?
But if she did fancy the person, why use such an indirect method?
Arabella usually didn't resort to such despicable tactics.
But ultimately, it was a way to harm Merrick.
Better that, when Merrick goes mad, he won't be in Arabella's sight anymore.
Extra Story 1
Arabella, this name was actually a casual name on the newspaper.
And she still hadn't received a nickname.
Her father didn't give her one, nor did her mother.
Arabella's mother was actually Vincent's second wife.
Vincent's first wife died early, leaving behind two young sons.
Vincent had a military career and spent a long time living in the barracks, so he really needed a woman at home.
Originally, Vincent only wanted to remarry a gentle and virtuous wife who could manage the household and take care of his stepsons.
Yet, he became infatuated with Arabella's mother.
After his wife's death, Vincent's romantic feelings resurfaced, and he fell for the daughter of an officer.
She was famous for her extraordinary beauty.
Not only was she beautiful, but her name was also lovely, and she was a woman of exceptional talent and beauty.
Such a cultured person naturally loved romance and a poetic life.
A woman like Arabella's mother, as gentle as water, would absolutely not be interested in a rough man like Vincent.
Her lover was handsome, tall, and outstanding in character and talent, also the son of a wealthy merchant. The two were a perfect match.
Vincent fell in love with Arabella's mother at first sight and couldn't forget her.
Yet, at heart, he was an upright man of integrity, incapable of resorting to such treacherous, vile methods to tear apart this pair of lovers. Instead, he silently endured the pain of his own heartache, quietly wishing for the happiness of the woman he loved.
If things had ended there—Arabella's mother marrying her lover as she wished—there might have been no subsequent tragedy, or perhaps no Arabella at all.
Arabella's mother's lover studied journalism in university and was supposed to inherit his family business after graduation.
However, he had lofty ambitions and wanted to gain more experience while young, so he defied family pressure to become an excellent war correspondent.
At the time, Scalien and its neighboring country Jingle had some border conflicts.
That neighbouring country with many artisans and inventors, known for their creativity and skilled craftsmanship, making it a hub for handicrafts.
In terms of military weapons and equipment, they were also innovative, but unable to mass-produce due to insufficient national military strength.
Arabella's mother's lover, young and ambitious, naturally dared to rush to the front lines for reporting. Of course—generally, the braver one is, the sooner one dies.
He never returned, not even his body. A small-scale conflict at the border resulted in a misfired shell that hit the logistics camp instead of the intended target.
The intended target was the command post.
The commander of the frontline forces was Vincent.
Later, why Arabella's mother married Vincent remained a mystery, known only to her.
Or perhaps it was that Arabella's mother had already lost her mind when she married Vincent; or maybe, after the marriage, when Vincent broke his promises and, one drunken night, forced himself upon her, it was then that she descended into madness, her sanity slipping away as she conceived Arabella. No one could ever truly know.
Arabella's birth itself was a miracle.
After learning she was pregnant, Arabella's mother used various self-destructive methods to attempt an abortion, torturing herself.
Despite this, Arabella survived and was born prematurely.
In the first year after Arabella's birth, Arabella's mother's madness wasn't severe.
Arabella's grandmother, still lived with them to help care for the mother and daughter.
When Arabella was just over a year old, one day, she clambered up the table and chairs, and reached the window. In a moment of life and death, Arabella's grandmother saw her and, with a swift dive, flung Arabella back into the room. Yet, in that instant, the force of the movement sent Arabella's grandmother herself tumbling out of the window, her body falling to the ground in a shattered, broken state.
The death of Arabella's grandmother shattered Arabella's mother last remaining rationality and cut off Arabella's promising future.
In Arabella's mother's eyes, Arabella was the reincarnation of a demon.
Perhaps she had married Vincent to seek revenge for her lover's death, or she had lost all hope after being forced by Vincent.
Arabella should not have survived, nor should she have grown up.
This child, unloved, unblessed, and unwanted, became a symbol of evil.
Arabella's mother did not allow Arabella to cry, for she believed it was the devil's roar.
Whenever the young Arabella cried, Arabella's mother would take a needle and stab her body or mouth frantically until Arabella dared not open her mouth again.
Arabella's mother also did not allow Arabella to eat, for she wanted to torment the devil and prevent it from doing evil.
So, Arabella often went hungry, and only when Arabella's mother was drunk after eating could the little girl sneak to the kitchen to rummage through the trash for food.
Vincent, feeling guilty towards Arabella's mother, stayed in the military camp for a long time after Arabella's birth and never returned. He only sent a generous monthly allowance to Arabella's mother, hoping for a peaceful life for the mother and daughter.
His two sons from his deceased first wife, already teenagers, were raised by his elderly parents.
If Vincent had never returned, Arabella might not have survived past the age of four, as Arabella's mother might have killed her.
But when Arabella was a little over three years old, Vincent, on a routine transfer, couldn't suppress his longing and decided to secretly visit them.
This visit left him almost soulless.
His daughter!
Like a dog, she was scavenging from the trash, her eyes cold and indifferent, and her movements as fierce as a beast.
Vincent took Arabella away!
Arabella's mother screamed and wailed, her madness reaching a fever pitch.
In the madness of her mind, there would, at times, be fleeting moments of clarity.
She would know that Arabella was her own flesh and blood, her sole remaining hope. Only in those brief moments of clarity would she gently touch Arabella's small head, hold her close, and offer her something to eat. Perhaps these scattered moments of warmth were the only gift she, as a mother, could give to her daughter.
Stimulated and later sent to a mental institution by Vincent, Arabella's mother did not survive beyond the second month. She ended her tragic and painful life by swallowing paper, dying at the young age of twenty-nine.
Arabella was taken in by Vincent and given to his elderly parents to care for.
After this emotional trauma, Vincent was utterly disheartened and had no intention of remarrying.
Vincent's elderly parents, being frail, could not adequately care for the young Arabella. Her two older brothers, the sons of Vincent, took on the responsibility of looking after their sister.
However, these two young boys, who hadn't fully grown up themselves, had no idea how to care for a young child.
They had been trained rigorously in martial arts and firearms by Vincent from a young age, preparing them for a military career and the goal of becoming great marshals.
Naturally, they believed their younger sister should also undergo such intense military training.
Thus, before the age of four, Arabella began learning firearms, combat techniques, strategic planning, and leadership skills, missing out on the innocent and romantic moments of childhood.
Because of the inhumane torment she endured in her early years, Arabella grew silent, afraid to speak, and too terrified to cry. The memory of hunger made her crave meat above all else; her body seemed like a bottomless pit, devouring food in a frenzy, yet not a single extra ounce of fat appeared.
By the time Vincent noticed something was wrong with Arabella, she was already of school age.
She was intelligent and quick-witted, grasping whatever she learned with ease, and there was no reason for her to have problems.
However, she was completely unable to get along with others.
She remained silent and expressionless, not yet seven years old, yet she seemed as though she had already weathered the storms of life, her character as steady and indifferent as a calm, unruffled sea.
If it were just this, she might have been considered merely introverted, which would have been understandable.
However, she was incredibly ruthless. Whenever someone dared to provoke her, if not for the intervention of a teacher, she would have killed them on the spot.
Unable to kill openly, Arabella turned to killing in secret.
She was skilled in strategy and manipulative.
Once, with a piece of candy in hand, she tricked a few children who had always mocked her into playing with her. Where did they go to play? The steel factory, where the blast furnaces only roared to life during production, remaining silent and dormant on ordinary days.
However, Arabella had planned ahead and had thoroughly understood the operation and principles of the blast furnace.
As events unfolded, the children were doused with molten steel at thousands of degrees, instantly reduced to ashes.
The adults could vaguely sense who was behind it, yet they were frustrated by the lack of evidence. At the same time, it was beyond belief—how could they possibly fathom that such a cruel, twisted act had been conceived by a girl not yet seven years old?
Vincent was also deeply anxious and fearful.
He had a lifetime of military service, and if there was one mistake in his life, it was betraying Arabella's mother. Arabella was the punishment he had to face for that mistake.
To educate Arabella, Vincent resorted to frequent beatings and scoldings, breaking several sticks in the process, but he failed to reform her twisted nature.
On the contrary, with each beating and insult, Arabella grew ever more composed and terrifying. Her skills sharpened with time, until she became a ruthless, heartless figure, a monster who killed without hesitation, severing all ties and recognizing no one.
Until he was betrayed and died on the battlefield, he never gave Arabella a nickname.
For she was truly the reincarnation of a demon, a presence that tormented him for his entire life.
