Love On Ice: Don’t Leave Me, My Charming Liar

Chapter 42: "I understand," she said, her tone flat, as if she had been hollowed out. "Do you wish to go on with this?" Her detached query caused Ethan's brow to crease, his displeasure evident. "Nyla, stop playing games with me. Don't test my patience!" His warning was unmistakable-provoke him further, and she would be left undefended. Feeling unjustly treated yet restraining her emotions, Nyla realized the tension between them. Their disheveled appearances and the charged atmosphere confirmed the toxicity of their situation.

She knew she should comply and remain at his side as the dutiful partner. Yet desire was a tricky beast. Nyla's feelings for Ethan made the presence of other women unbearable. She told herself she was merely his paramour, but at night, her thoughts roamed wild. At times, she fantasized about jolting herself out of this self-inflicted humiliation. Despite her intentions, her heart rebelled. "What if I do play games with you? What are you going to do? I'm just a plaything in some people's eyes.

If a better offer comes along, why shouldn't I accept it?" Nyla's posture relaxed against the cabinet, her slight smile and the blush on her cheeks beneath the soft lighting enhancing her charm. Ethan hesitated, his reaction not lost on her. Nyla's provocative words pierced through the numbness of her heart. "Once certain things are spoken, they can't be unheard, can they?" "Huh, you're quite something." "I'll take that as a compliment." Ethan departed. Find your favorite stories at g Ɐ ln σ ν s., conn It was a first for him.

He initiated intimacy but then left abruptly without further engagement. Nyla leaned back against the cabinet, her support gone, her form gradually sinking to the floor by the door. The finality of the moment weighed on her. It felt as if her connection with Ethan had irrevocably frayed. Pain coursed through her, every part of her ached, each breath a struggle. Nyla's body screamed for release from the agony, but a resilient voice within urged her to persist. In the center of Ulares, a Maybach hurtled down the avenue, its pace relentless.

Ethan's expression was stoic, his aura formidable, broadcasting his rage to the world. Arriving at Night Charm, Ulares' most bustling bar, Ethan swung his car to a halt, the door slamming shut, drawing the gaze of the inebriated throng. As he strode into the bar, his presence commanded immediate attention. Among a crowd of striking individuals, Ethan's allure was unmatched. His imposing demeanor deterred the typically forward patrons from approaching. Keith Lawson, upon hearing of Ethan's unexpected visit, was stunned. Ethan typically preferred a discreet entry.

Keith, cocktail in hand, entered the most luxurious private room to find Ethan lounging on a couch, a bottle already uncorked. Loosening his tie, Ethan's usually reserved charm was now palpably intense, his every action mesmerizing. . . .