Eloise was busy advancing the plot. Tonight, she had a crucial scene, the kind that was extremely important.
According to the original story, it was mentioned that after Eloise successfully used those manipulated photos to slander Lucienne, an upset and furious Quintus drove away. She searched every place in the city where he might have gone, eventually finding him in a bar, drunk beyond recognition.
Watching the furrowed brows and melancholic smile of the one she loved after he had gotten drunk, Eloise felt a wave of sour bitterness surge within her. A bold thought began to take shape in her mind—she would seize this opportunity to hold him firmly in the palm of her hand!
She supported Quintus and walked into the nearest hotel, using all her charms to seduce him. To her surprise, even in his drunken, almost unconscious state, Quintus subconsciously rejected her advances.
Eloise gritted her teeth in frustration, nearly grinding them to dust, and then—here came the wickedly shocking move of the villainess!
Quintus's penis was unable to harden enough to penetrate her narrow vagina, but it could still stand up somewhat. So, Eloise would masturbate and ejaculate, then spread his semen on the sheets and her own vagina, and then make a mess of the room, throwing clothes and underwear all over the floor, to create the appearance that they had just made love.
The next day, when Quintus awoke, he looked at him with eyes filled with silent tears, hinting at unspoken things.
After entering the story, Eloise would feel a prickling on her scalp every time she thought of the original's extraordinary way of thinking. Yet, no matter how uncomfortable it made her, she had to force herself to press on, for otherwise, the tightly connected plot could not move forward.
Falling into the pool tonight was an accident, and the bizarre and flawed series of events that led to slandering the female lead was also an accident. Yet, she would not waste her energy dwelling on it. The goal had been achieved, so now, she would look ahead.
She went home, changed out of her uncomfortable wet clothes, took a bath, dried her hair, and slowly drank a bowl of milk. Once her body warmed up, she wrapped herself in a windproof coat, grabbed her small bag with cold medicine, and headed out to continue her mission.
No matter how cold or wet it was, she should have driven tirelessly around the city three times in search of the male lead. But she wouldn't. Unlike the female lead, who had so many men vying to care for her, she was the villainess—she had to take care of herself.
She navigated to the bar mentioned by name in the original book and drove straight there. At this hour, the bar was crowded, and her shoulder was bumped several times as she navigated through the throng. Just as the little flame of anger inside her was about to flare up, she finally spotted Quintus, drunk and slumped over the bar counter.
Standing by, she watched for a while, utterly puzzled at how the original villainess had seen melancholy and bitterness in the male lead's face, now distorted by the edge of the table. Moved by a sudden surge of sympathy and desire, she could only sigh at the great power of love.
She tossed a hundred-dollar tip to the bartender, asking them to help move Quintus—who was as limp as a dead dog—into her car, and then drove to the nearest hotel.
Holding her breath, she opened the backseat car door, and the strong smell of alcohol hit her face. With a grimace, she stretched out a slender finger and poked his thigh, asking, "Quin, can you get up by yourself?"
He lay there as stiff as if he had been dead for three days. Eloise looked up at the ceiling helplessly, resigned to roll up her sleeves and start doing the hard work.
After a great deal of effort, Eloise finally managed to get into the room. Just as she placed her bag on the table, Quintus, slumped against her shoulder, stirred. However, the movement did not look promising—he grimaced, his throat moving uncomfortably as he made a strained swallowing sound.
Eloise could guess what he was about to do next and was so scared that her soul almost flew away. "Quin, hold on! Please hold it in! Don't throw up yet! Let me help you into the bathroom first, then you can throw up! Please!"
As she begged, she used all her strength to drag him toward the bathroom. Just as they were half a step away from the toilet, Quintus let out a loud "Wow" and threw up.
Eloise jumped back, shrieking as she shoved him away, as if he were some kind of filth. Even so, a bit of it still stained her clothes. Furious, she wanted nothing more than to give Quintus a good beating, and once again, she found herself bewildered at how the original villainess had endured such a foul-smelling drunk, yet still felt her heart stir for him!
Love's power is truly incredible!
She took off her coat, revealing a slightly revealing short dress beneath. In the original story, it was likely the little frock worn at the banquet as an evening gown, now changed due to getting wet. Replacing it with this one, she guessed it might just create the visual impact of Quintus waking up and seeing "thin clothes torn on the ground."
Turning around, she saw Quintus clutching the toilet, having nearly finished vomiting. With a look of utter disdain, she pulled out a few tissues and tossed them on the floor, murmuring under her breath as if praying for a miracle to happen. "Quin, please, do me a favor and wipe yourself, okay?" Well, he didn't move at all.
Eloise could only hurriedly wipe him down, her arms slipping under his armpits as she heaved with all her might, dragging him onto the bed like a heavy sandbag. Out of breath, she collapsed, panting.
She stood with her hands on her hips at the edge of the bed, watching Quintus in his drunken, disheveled state. The bitterness on her face almost became tangible: Damn, which brave soul could possibly love such a sorry sight!
She recalled the seduction scene from the original story, took a deep breath, and with her back arched, crawled onto the bed, exposing her cleavage. Facing the unconscious man, she said to the drunk man: "Quin, look at me, Elly has grown up. Do you remember when you taught me to dance when I was little? Since then, Elly has always felt..." She paused, disgusted, "Ugh!"
Before she could finish, the strong smell of alcohol from his body hit her, making her gag. Forget it, forget it, she surrendered! Skip the unnecessary details, just skip them all! She couldn't go all the way like the original female antagonist; she wasn't that great! Oh, reader of the book, forgive her!
After her confession, Eloise began to think about how to create the scene of drunken chaos.
She pulled off Quintus's coat and tossed it on the floor by the door, then stripped off his shirt. Taking out her lipstick, she reapplied it to her lips, enduring the foul stench as she left several kiss marks on the shirt before discarding it on the floor as well.
Next, she applied the same method to his suit trousers, leaving his underwear on out of modesty.
When it came to removing his shoes, Eloise found them stubbornly stuck, as if welded to his feet. With her legs apart in a horse-riding stance at the foot of the bed, she braced herself, both hands pushing forcefully backward. Holding her breath, she concentrated and exerted all her strength—
The shoes came off, but her head couldn't stop itself from crashing into the decorative copper statue behind her with a "ping." She cried out in pain, "Ah!"
Outside the door, the man in black, who had been standing there for some time, heard the noise and let out a soft "pfft," revealing a knowing, lewd smile. "Oh, this little lady sure knows how to have fun!" Charlie slapped his head with frustration, his face full of worry. "Hurry up and knock on the door, do you want to see the boss get killed by anger?"
Inside, Eloise, having finally overcome her psychological barrier, took off her underwear and threw it onto Quintus's face. Just as she was about to reach for his lower body, the doorbell rang. "Hello, room service!"
At this hour, what kind of room service was this? Eloise, puzzled, got out of bed and walked toward the door.
