Chapter 470

Two hours later, the wreckage of their passion lay strewn across the suite. Clothes were scattered everywhere, and the air hung heavy with a lingering musk.

“Mr. Hughes,” Annabelle murmured, her voice soft with exhaustion. “Would you like something to eat? I brought food from that delicious restaurant we visited earlier.”

She knew her skills in the bedroom were undeniable; Jeremy wouldn't keep returning if they weren't.

Jeremy, a cigarette dangling from his lips, exhaled a plume of smoke that obscured his features. He didn't respond, leaving Annabelle increasingly uneasy.

“Mr. Hughes?” she asked softly, her voice tinged with sweetness.

Jeremy stubbed out his cigarette and glanced at her. “Have you gained weight recently?”

Annabelle felt discouraged. She was always conscious of her figure. Even though she was pregnant, she didn’t overeat and continued to exercise daily.

“Maybe it’s because I’ve been staying home and eating more since I haven’t been working,” she said. “Mr. Hughes, do you dislike me? If you do, I’ll go on a diet.”

Her belly had indeed grown slightly rounder. It surprised her that Jeremy noticed such a subtle change.

Jeremy nodded slightly. Then, as an afterthought, he added, “You don’t need to return to Jipsburg City. Stay here from now on.”

Annabelle’s smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of something else. “Okay,” she said simply.

After each encounter, he retreated into his shell of indifference, ever wary of her clinging to him. His coldness was even more pronounced than she'd anticipated.

“Mr. Hughes,” she pleaded, her voice thick with unshed tears, “could you at least let me know when you’re coming to Yley City? I could keep you company; please don’t shut me out. You know how much I love you, how sincere I am. Please.”

Such a humble request was hard for any man to refuse. Jeremy lit another cigarette, took a drag, and finally said, “Alright. Let’s eat.”

He pushed her away, wrapped a towel around his waist, and strode out of bed. Annabelle followed suit.

They ate a few bites of the food Annabelle had brought. Afterward, Annabelle showered. She didn’t cling to Jeremy or ask for promises; she simply left.

Once Annabelle was gone, Jeremy called room service to clean the suite. The housekeeper, witnessing the disarrayed sheets, scoffed. “The rich sure know how to entertain themselves,” she muttered cynically.

Meanwhile, Annabelle checked into a different hotel. Despite Yley City being her hometown, she had no desire to return. It represented everything she was desperately trying to escape—the poverty, the dysfunction. Her sights were set on a different life, far above her current station. There would be no going back, no falling back into the same trap.

Sitting in her car, Annabelle recalled the night of her eighteenth birthday. Her stepfather, Mason Chavez, had brought her a birthday cake—a rare show of affection. Blinded by the gesture, she hadn’t been cautious. The cake, she later discovered, had been laced with drugs. While unconscious, Mason had raped her.

Her mother, Raelyn Hernandez, knew what Mason had done and did nothing to stop it. She even said that since Annabelle was going to sleep with other men eventually, she might as well let Mason enjoy it first.