Chapter 8 How Could It Be Her

• His fingers dug into the flesh around the woman’s wrist, and there was a wildness in his eyes that was not there before.
• Before she could react, he grabbed her by the jaw and pressed his lips onto hers.
• “Hmph!”
• Eleanor’s eyes widened. In the next second, she found herself pinned against the slats of the wardrobe.
• “Let... me go...”
• The man’s onslaught came fast and furious that she had not even had the time to speak.
• No!
• Eleanor was in a panic; this was not what she signed up for!
• She had yet to get paid. Now, she could not even escape.
• “Let go of me... Is somebody out there? Help me...”
• No one answered.
• Like a relentless beast, he kept coming at her - over and over.
• As the dawn broke, the sky turned from tangerine to white.
• Casper opened his eyes and turned to regard the sleeping woman lying next to him.
• Her delicate brows were furrowed. Those long black tresses which extended away from her face adorned the bleached sheets.
• There was something aesthetically pleasing about that resultant tonal contrast.
• Casper frowned.
• He was one who had no lack of self-restraint. The situation would not have developed the way it did had it not been for that particular glass of wine he had.
• Then, the man narrowed his eyes as he took a closer look at the woman’s face.
• From where he stood, she was indeed slight of build. Through her curtain of hair, he could see how small her waxen face was. It measured less than the size of his own palm.
• He propped her chin and turned her towards him. On closer inspection, he recognized the woman as the girl from seven years ago.
• “How could it be her?”
• The man’s face fell. This was the same woman who seemingly vanished after delivering his son all those years ago.
• He had not expected to encounter her again under such circumstances.
• “Ugh...”
• The woman seemed depleted as her brows knotted in her sleep. “Don’t touch me...”
• He was not sure if she was having a nightmare. However, her lashes were wet, and she looked to be in some pain.
• Casper’s expression was grave as he took her by the jaw in an attempt to rouse her. “Why are you here? Tell me!”
• “I’m not...”
• She must have somehow heard him as she curled herself into a ball. “She hired me... to take photos...”
• He assumed that the “she” in question was none other than Anais.
• The man’s frown deepened. The four million he paid out seven years ago should have been sufficient for this woman to get by on.
• But for some reason, she seemed haggard and much worse off than when they last met.
• What happened to her?
• The woman’s muttering faded as she once again slipped out of consciousness.
• Casper scowled as he regarded her frazzled and frail disposition.
• No one was aware how much time had passed before Eleanor gradually came to.
• She rubbed her throbbing temples slowly for relief. As the curtains had been drawn over the windows, she had no clue as to which part of the day it was.
• As she groggily surveyed the elegant and lavish interiors of her surroundings, she was in a state of disorientation.
• Where is this place? Where am I?
• After a period of drawing blanks, she suddenly sat up as she snapped out of her stupor. A sharp aching pain shot up her hips as she did so.
• Just then, her memories of the night’s events came back to her in fragments. Nevertheless, she could only remember Casper pressing his lips to hers, and nothing else after that.
• But the soreness that penetrated her body told her what she needed to know.