"The owner of that coffee shop is incredibly beautiful. I'm a girl, and even I'm completely captivated by her."
"Is it really as exaggerated as you say?"
"Just go see for yourself."
Two girls pushed open the glass door of a coffee shop while chatting.
The weather outside was very cold. Inside, the shop was warm with heating. People tired from shopping could enjoy hot coffee and cozy warmth in the coffee shop. The shop was busy all day, with the staff enthusiastically attending to customers.
"Welcome!" The two girls were led to their seats by a server, who presented them with menus. "What would you like to drink?"
The long-haired girl didn't immediately state her drink order. Instead, she asked the server, "Is your owner in the shop today?"
"Not at the moment. She was busy all day and just went out for dinner."
"I see." The long-haired girl sounded a bit disappointed, then smiled and said to her short-haired friend, "It's fine. Maybe she'll come back while we're having our coffee. I absolutely have to show you what a real beauty looks like today. The ones you draw are nothing compared to her, honestly."
The server asked, "Are you students from the nearby art academy too?"
"Yes." The long-haired girl said coquettishly, "Sis, could you please ask your owner if she'd model for us just once? If she agrees, our art assignment would definitely get a high score. We'll come drink coffee here every day from now on, okay?"
The server found this amusing. "Our owner is beautiful, but that doesn't really have anything to do with how well you paint, does it? Some other students from your school have asked her before, and she didn't agree."
The girls were very disappointed. "We really, really want to paint her."
The server covered her mouth with her hand and lowered her voice. "Actually, it's not that our owner refuses. It's her boyfriend who's the difficult one. He doesn't allow people to just paint our owner."
"Not even if we're girls?"
The server laughed. "Probably not. That guy... he's got a cold personality and isn't easy to talk to."
Hearing this, the girls immediately forgot about their assignment, their gossip-loving souls igniting. "Really? Is your owner's boyfriend handsome? What's his type? Rich and handsome? Is he an older guy or a young hunk?"
Just as the server was about to answer, the shop door opened, and an elegant, gentle, and beautiful woman walked in.
The two girls looked over, their eyes widening.
Her features were like a painting. Her porcelain-white skin looked flawless and delicate. Her face was small and exquisitely shaped, like a beauty drawn in a manga, but because she was alive, she was even more vivid and stunning. Her attire was simple: a ponytail and the same apron uniform as the staff. Yet, because of her lovely face and well-proportioned figure, the uniform seemed different on her.
They finally understood what it meant for a beauty to overshadow everything else.
"She's the owner here. Didn't I tell you? Isn't she beautiful?" the long-haired girl said proudly to her short-haired friend.
The short-haired girl gazed at the beauty and sighed in admiration. "She's really so beautiful. If she wore traditional attire, she'd be absolutely heavenly!"
"And the man behind her is our owner's boyfriend," the server added, noticing the man following her.
"Wow, he's so handsome!" "He looks like Sebastian from Black Butler! His aura is incredible!" The two young girls exclaimed excitedly in hushed voices.
It wasn't just them; others in the shop were also looking at the two who had just entered.
Isabella Roscente was used to people's awestruck gazes directed at her. She had also gradually grown accustomed to the ambiguous, gossipy, and admiring looks people gave when they saw her with Alexander Sullivan.
"I've eaten dinner. You can go now. Didn't you say you have a business dinner tonight? Go ahead," she said to him.
These days, with Christmas approaching, the streets were crowded, and the shop was busy. She often forgot to eat when she was swamped with work. He always made time to come and make sure she ate. He had just taken her out for dinner and brought her back to the shop.
Alexander Sullivan nodded. "Alright, I'm leaving."
He said he would leave, but he didn't move, just kept looking at her.
"Aren't you going?"
Alexander smiled slightly, lowered his head, took her hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'll pick you up later."
"Okay."
He walked out the door, then remembered he hadn't told her that if he hadn't arrived by the time she finished work, she could go home first. He turned back and was just in time to encounter the two girls surrounding Isabella, pleading with her to be their painting model. He approached, his expression displeased. "Why do you keep pestering her? She's very busy and tired, barely has time to eat. How could she possibly have the energy to be your model?"
His aura was unusually strong and cold, instantly frightening the two girls into a stunned silence.
"We... we..."
"Don't be like that. You're scaring them." Like a beauty capable of taming a beast's heart, Isabella merely said this, and the man's expression softened considerably.
"I didn't even say anything," he defended himself.
Isabella reached up and touched the scar visible above his right eyebrow. She smiled. "Don't you know? Even when you say nothing, that stern face of yours is frightening."
"..." The man chuckled. "As long as you're not afraid of me, it's fine." The implication was that he didn't care about anyone else.
The girls thought: Even though we were scared, it feels like we just witnessed some sweet interaction too.
—
Sullivan Mansion.
In a room on the second floor, two bodies intertwined on the bed. One dark, one fair. One strong, one delicate. One on top, one beneath.
Isabella Roscente was nearly driven to unconsciousness by his thrusts.
How was this man so potent? His thick, lengthy member seemed to reach the deepest part of her, as if touching her very heart.
"Mmmph... ah..." She moaned helplessly, her fingers clawing at his back, her nails leaving scratches. "I'm going to break... enough... slower..."
"You won't break." He worked diligently, spreading her legs to their limit, plunging deeper and deeper into her. "So wet. You clearly love it. Inside, you're clenching around me desperately. It feels good, doesn't it, Isabella?"
"Yes... so good... ah..."
"Oh, fuck! So good!" the man roared. "My cock's going to be crushed!"
Sweat dripped onto her snow-white breasts. Her pert mounds were grasped in his hands, kneaded into various shapes. Tingling pleasure spread from her core to every limb. Her body felt light and euphoric, as if intoxicated.
She was addicted to the feeling of making love. It felt so good.
A year ago, it was this very pleasure, along with his promise of happiness, that had stopped her from ending her life.
Daniel Grant and Jacob Grant had become part of her past—she had to let them go to continue living—she needed to start life anew.
After their passion subsided, Alexander Sullivan carried her to the bathroom to clean her, just as he always did. The difference was, her aversion to him had long since cured. She no longer felt sick. They could share a bed and sleep together.
"Exhausted, aren't you?" He held her. "Sleep."
Isabella found a comfortable position in his embrace and closed her eyes.
"Alexander," her breath warmed his chest, "if I had remained lost back then, if I had still chosen to forget... would you really have let me go?"
Alexander smiled tenderly. "No," he lowered his head and kissed the top of her head. "I love you too much. Whether you were aware or not, I would have kept you by my side. But I much prefer you like this, not hating me. I like it far too much." He held her tightly.
--