Try Begging Novel - Chapter 25

“Is feeding a lady to satiety also humiliation?”

“You’re trying to fill another belly, aren’t you?”

This woman, she’s getting more and more…

Leon let out a hollow laugh and closed the cigar case, putting it back in his jacket.

She was a woman who, even after witnessing gruesome torture and its aftermath, would smile sweetly and ask, ‘When should I clean?’ He already knew she had a bold personality.

But now, she was audacious enough to utter lewd words.

“Do you always act so coquettishly, and then when a man falls for it, you treat the poor fellow you’ve hooked like a lecher?”

“I never tried to hook anyone, so the pitiable one is me.”

She said she never tried to hook anyone, yet after finishing her cake, the woman immediately moved to another spot. This time, it seemed she intended to get thoroughly drunk on the most expensive champagne.

Getting drunk was usually a tactic used by proud women to seduce men and drag them to bed, wasn’t it? He had generously allowed himself to be hooked for once, ordering by the bottle after the third glass, but the woman showed no signs of getting drunk.

“Aren’t you dizzy? How about lying down and resting?”

At the suggestion of going to the cabin, the woman just tilted her champagne glass without replying. Outside the window behind her head, the brightly lit pier, as bright as day, was drawing closer.

Had time already passed so quickly?

Leon sighed and rubbed his temples.

“Sally, you said you’d make it boring?”

“Yes. You just watched me eat for four hours.”

The woman added annoyingly, wrinkling her nose as if disappointed,

“Boringly.”

Leon chuckled, glancing alternately at his tightly crossed legs and the woman’s flushed face, reddened by alcohol.

“No, for that, you know what I like too well. Is it innate?”

The woman looked at him, the rim of her champagne glass still pressed to her lips. Her eyes seemed to ask, Why do you like someone like me? Reading a hint of bewilderment, he quirked his lips sideways. Was this an opportunity to regain control?

“I know you deliberately dressed shabbily. But you made a mistake.”

“…”

“Pale pink, red, brown. They are all colors I’m madly in love with.”

The cold, pale pink water sloshing in the bathtub where the spy’s head was submerged. The fresh red flowing from torn flesh. The sticky, dried brown on rough ropes.

They were all the colors of blood. The colors of blood that aroused him.

“You’re failing.”

The sedan passed through the mansion’s main gate and crossed the garden. The main building of the mansion, slowly drawing closer, was brightly lit with exterior lights as if for a party, even though it was almost midnight.

“This is the most disastrous date of my life.”

Winston rubbed his lips, a scoff escaping him, his elbow resting on the car window sill. Sally only turned her head and glared sharply at him.

“Failure, try harder.”

She had no right to complain about being called a failure. Sally’s plan to spread rumors of an affair had failed miserably.

Or, was it too soon to judge?

To get to the annex, they had to pass the main building. As the car approached close enough for the main entrance to be clearly visible, Sally inwardly cheered.

A luxury sedan was parked on the stone path between the main gate and the fountain. And beside it, Mrs. Winston was seeing off Grand Duchess Aldrich.

To encounter two people who would be most wary of a woman clinging to Winston, all at once. The mission was almost complete.

As the headlights and engine noise drew closer, both women turned their heads towards them. Sally briefly met their gaze, then bowed her head slightly as if guilty, and glanced at Winston. She even put on a troubled expression, as if asking, We’ve been caught, what do we do?

“Ah, the Grand Duchess was supposed to come today. I forgot.”

Winston let out a short sigh and parked his car behind the Grand Duchess’s. Sally, who had expected him to turn the car around, watched Winston get out of the car with horrified eyes.

Her eyes met Mrs. Winston’s. The madam’s face was also thickly plastered with horror. Her glaring eyes also held anger.

The Grand Duchess had not looked their way once after their initial eye contact. A composed face with a faint, embarrassed smile.

‘This should be enough.’

Feeling sorry for the innocent Grand Duchess being put in an awkward position, Sally quietly opened the car door and got out. She tried to slip away behind the car to the annex without making a sound.

“Gasp, what are you doing?”

“Get in.”

Winston, who had been exchanging greetings with the two women, chased after her and grabbed her. He casually spoke to his mother and fiancée-to-be while pushing Sally back into the car. Not only that, but he leaned against the passenger door, trapping her.

Winston had, in his own way, and excessively so, completed Sally’s mission for her.

He only returned to the driver’s seat after the Grand Duchess’s car had left. Mrs. Winston raised her voice, furious, but he replied indifferently and drove straight to the annex.

Sally glared at Winston with disgusted eyes.

She wanted to open his head. What on earth was his brain made of? To be so brazen even after being caught cheating.

“Captain, thanks to you, I had a pleasant time, ah!”

As soon as they arrived at the annex, she tried to escape to the maid’s room, but Winston grabbed Sally’s arm.

“Failure, we need to discuss today’s defeat.”

He held Sally as if escorting a criminal and flung open the door to the first-floor study. The soldiers playing billiards inside froze as soon as they turned their heads.

“Everyone out.”

They all looked puzzled but dared not ask anything. The six soldiers rushed out in unison, trying to close the study door.

Sally slipped out of Winston’s grasp, shedding her cardigan. But just before she could escape through the crack in the door, he slammed it shut in front of her.

A large hand firmly gripped the hand holding the doorknob. Sally looked up, meeting Winston’s twisted smile.

“It’s too late to discuss the defeat.”

“Someone who failed their mission has no right to say that.”

His right hand opened, and the red cardigan fell to the floor with a thud. His long fingers tapped, one by one, the bulging buttons of her blouse, moving upwards.

His index finger began to roll circularly over the button between the prominent peaks. As she glared at his hand movements, her nipples, which he had rolled yesterday, tingled on their own.

Thud.

The moment she slapped his hand away, Winston leaned towards Sally. His arm wrapped around her waist, and in an instant, her body was lifted high.

Slung over his shoulder, Sally stopped her meaningless struggles and instead checked the positions of the military dagger and pistol attached to Winston’s waist.

Resisting now was useless. She had to use the right weapon at the right opportunity.

As the billiard table passed before her eyes, Sally’s teal eyes glinted. A blunt weapon was spread out on the dark green felt.

Winston walked to the opposite side of the door and laid Sally down on the billiard table. She immediately sat up, but escape was impossible. He spread her knees, which were dangling over the edge, wide apart and wedged his lower body between them.

Sally calmed her wildly pounding heart and stared at the sturdy man before her.

Today, she could fight.

Since Mrs. Winston would soon kick her out anyway, there was no need to hold back for fear of ruining her mission. She just needed to fight a little clumsily, without revealing her professional combat training. As long as she didn’t kill him, it was fine.

While Sally reviewed his weak points in her mind, preparing to fight, Winston had nothing but thoughts of ramming his own weak point into her.

“As you can see, you’ve completely failed.”

He unbuckled the belt of his officer’s jacket and took off his clothes, making it clear what he wanted her to see. The front of his trousers, hidden by the jacket’s hem, was so swollen it seemed about to burst, with one button’s thread already loose.

Winston neatly folded his jacket in half, draped it tidily over the billiard table, and began rolling up his sleeves. It was no different from the preparatory movements he made whenever he personally engaged in torture.

“Your method failed, so now I’ll try mine.”

Meanwhile, Sally glanced at the holster on the jacket, gauging the distance. A shot to the shoulder would be fine, she thought. Then Winston wouldn’t bother her again until she was safely dismissed.

He finished rolling up his other sleeve and prattled on, as if scolding Sally for her mistakes.

“Today, even if you cry, I won’t let you go.”

Winston leaned towards Sally, placing his hands on either side of her.

Their ragged breaths mingled, exhaled between slightly parted lips. Both flinched from the heat, but their meanings were different.

At a precarious distance where their noses almost touched, Winston met her gaze and spoke softly, as if whispering a secret.