Taken By My Fiancé's Uncle - Chapter 78: Chapter 78

"I'd rather you strangle me with the belt in bed," Eugene said calmly.
'What a pervert!' Lorraine thought. She shut her eyes and moved behind him, slipping her hand around his taut waist to grab his belt.
Eugene looked puzzled. "Why not come around front?"
"Afraid I'll see something gross."
"I don't mind if you look."
"I won't sneak a peek."
"Peeking's fine," Eugene offered casually.
"Thanks, but can we hurry this up?" Lorraine spat. 'What luck do I have to end up holding this guy's while he's peeing?'
The sound of the zipper was torture enough, and his size nearly made her lose her grip. As the urine started flowing, she shut her eyes, wishing she could disappear.
Their bodies pressed close. She could feel his muscular back against her chest—smooth lines that made her pulse race. His heartbeat was steady and strong, pounding in her ears like a drumbeat that made her blush.
Lorraine realized even without seeing, her imagination was more than capable of filling in the blanks.
"You done?" she asked. That thing kept growing, and she felt she might lose her grip at any moment.
"Not yet," Eugene replied boldly.
"Hurry up."
Eugene turned suddenly. "Do you want me to go faster?"
That thing slipped from Lorraine's hand as his chest pressed against her, his hot breath puffing against her ear.
"Whether you go fast or slow, I don't care," she said, her heart thumping wildly.
"So you like a mix of speeds? Got it."
"Keep talking like that and I'm leaving!" Lorraine stomped her foot, her ears reddening. Even being slow, she understood he was teasing her.
'Would he do this with other women? Did he treat Elsie the same way?' she wondered. Her mind was flooded with images she'd rather not imagine. Her chest felt tight, and she just wanted to get away from him.
Eugene gazed at her slender neck, noticing sadness in her voice. After a pause, he let her go. "The oatmeal's almost ready. Go check the kitchen."
Lorraine breathed a sigh of relief and stepped out of the bathroom. She dashed into the kitchen, patted her warm cheeks, and focused on the oatmeal, pushing away all other thoughts.
The oatmeal came out sticky, just like Lorraine's mood. She scooped it into a bowl and sat heavily at the table, only waking up when the doorbell rang several times.
Water splashed in the bathroom; Eugene was still showering. Recalling he said no one would come, Lorraine moved closer and asked through the door, "Who's there?"
"Sheila."
Lorraine fell silent. Suddenly, all the previous moments came flooding back, and she was on the verge of tears. She wanted nothing more than to disappear into the ground. Her palms were sweaty, and she couldn't bring herself to open the door.
"Don't you dare ignore me, or we're done," Sheila said firmly.
Lorraine forced herself to open the door, mustering a weak smile. "Sheila, what a surprise."
Sheila stepped in, giving a cold grin. "It's no surprise. I came to see you."
"How did you find me?"
"Find My iPhone!" Sheila said through gritted teeth, waving her phone.
Only then did Lorraine remember the phone Sheila had given her a few days ago, which did have the location tracking feature. "Sheila, you look amazing today," Lorraine said, trying to change the subject.
"Keep flattering me, and you'll regret it even more."
Lorraine bowed her head meekly and took her to the living room.
Sheila plopped down at the dining table, glaring at her for a long moment. "He took advantage of you last night, didn't he?"
"N-no!" Lorraine stammered, feeling nervous.
"Next time you mess around, put on a turtleneck, okay? You're covered in hickeys—who are you trying to fool? Were you just talking under the covers?" Sheila scoffed.
Lorraine ducked her head, tugging at her skirt uncomfortably.
Sheila sneered, "Where's Eugene?"
"He's showering."
Another mocking sneer escaped Sheila.
Lorraine hunched so low her forehead nearly touched the table.
Sheila hated seeing that timid look. She glared but her tone softened. "Alright, stop avoiding me. I actually have something to tell you."
"Huh? Aren't you here to pick me up?"
Sheila gave a dry laugh, glanced around the living room, and then said, "Go ahead with your work. I'll just look around."
"Have you eaten yet? Want me to make you some oatmeal?"
"Sure." Sheila waved dismissively.
Lorraine turned to leave but Sheila stopped her. "Is it true Eugene got hurt?"
"Yeah." Lorraine nodded. "Why?"
"Nothing, just curious," Sheila said casually. After Lorraine left, she got up and wandered around the room.
Though Sheila often acted tomboyish, growing up in an official's household made her observant. She was skeptical of Lorraine's story—her doubt wasn't directed at Lorraine, but at Eugene, the man who had brought her here.
Just then, the door behind Sheila swung open, and she whirled around. Eugene stood there in crisp white loungewear, fresh from the bathroom. They locked eyes in a charged silence.
"Ms. Stuard, I don't welcome strangers here," Eugene began, clearly telling Sheila to leave. "How'd you get here?"
"On foot," Sheila answered with a grin, sitting down.
Eugene glanced at the kitchen. "Please head back the way you came."
"So eager to kick me out? Feeling guilty?" Sheila asked casually.
Eugene gave her a cold glare and sat opposite her. "I'm not the uninvited guest. This is my property, my living room. Why should I feel guilty?"
Their gazes met, the calculating glint in their eyes a silent language understood only by their kind.
'Oh, poor Lorraine doesn't stand a chance against him. He'll totally eat her alive—no, he'll even swallow her whole,' Sheila thought.
She chuckled, "You can still shower with that injury? Feeling spirited, Mr. Moore?"
"Who says I can't shower when I'm injured?" Eugene responded flawlessly. "Maybe you should get injured and see how well you can wash up?"
Sheila grinned. "I've got great karma. I'm always the one causing injuries."
"You deserve to be the mayor's daughter. You're quite wild."
"Hardly. I'm an adult now; my actions are my own," Sheila deflected lightly. 'Trying to threaten me with my parents? Not a chance!'
Eugene smiled faintly, took the coffee cup from the table, and poured himself some coffee—it was freshly brewed by Lorraine and steaming hot.
Sheila poured herself a cup too, holding it without taking a sip. "Mr. Moore, there's a limit to lying. You rich guys love your little schemes, but Lorraine isn't someone you can mess with. Do you know how hard I worked to gain her trust?"
Back in middle school, the small, skinny Lorraine suddenly joined the class. All the girls pushed her away, except Sheila.
She deliberately walked Lorraine to and from school every day, sticking to the same route to keep bullies away. She made sure her grades were on par with Lorraine's, so the teacher would seat them together.
During lunch, she'd reserve an entire table just so Lorraine could sit with her when the cafeteria was packed.
It was only because Lorraine looked so vulnerable. Sheila's inner hero kicked in when Lorraine arrived and got out of hand. But even so, it took a year for Lorraine to truly trust her.
Eugene sure was handsome. Also, he was smart and had money to burn. But Sheila believed a guy like him was only around when Lorraine needed a rescue—a temporary refuge that couldn't protect her forever.
Ignoring all the complicated stuff like education, status, and family backgrounds, Sheila still found his past identity totally awkward.
Even though Stephen had been ousted from the Moore Group, Gordie was still in the picture. Those remaining Moores could easily cook up countless ways to mess with Lorraine. Sheila wouldn't let her take the hit.
Eugene stayed calm. He took a slow sip of his coffee. "What did I trick her about? Care to explain?"
Sheila snorted. She knew he was brushing it off, but there was nothing she could do—she was just guessing and needed proof.
Pausing, she spotted the first aid kit on the nearby coffee table. She got up and grabbed it.
"She's busy. You just showered. Let me help you change the bandage, okay?" Sheila asked. Not waiting for a reply, she moved around and grabbed his right arm.
Eugene's eyes darkened, and he tried to pull free. But Sheila clung to his arm tightly. He frowned, shoved her off, and sent her sprawling onto the sofa.
Lorraine came out of the kitchen, holding a steaming bowl of oatmeal. As she stepped into the living room, she saw Eugene fiercely shove Sheila out with a scowl.
Lorraine froze. Her gaze trailed up his right arm, hanging in mid-air, to the white bandage. "Your arm..." she murmured, disbelief in her voice.